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CARDINAL  WOLSEY, 


THE  LIFE  OF 

CARDINAL  WOLSEY 

By  MANDELL  CREIGHTON 


Bishop  of  London,  M.A.  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  D.C.L. 
wof  Durham,  LL.D.  of  Glasgow  and  Harvard 


WITH  EXPLANATORY  NOTES 

BY  HENKY   KETCHAM 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY,     *     J*     ^     # 
j*      &      j»      PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1908, 
BY  A.  L.  BUET  COMPANY. 


u 


978388 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK  _ 

I.  The  State  of  Europe,  1494-1512 1  ^ 

II.  The  French  Alliance,  1512-1515 30 

III.  The  Universal  Peace,   1515-1518. . . . , 61 

IV.  The  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold,  1518-1520 88 

V.  The  Conference  of  Calais,  1520-1521 110 

VI.  The  Imperial  Alliance,  1521-1523 130 

VII.  Renewal  of  Peace,  1523-1527 164 

VIII.  Wolsey's  Domestic  Policy 196  Vx^ 

IK.  The  King's  Divorce,  1527-1529 235  \X" 

X.  The  Fall  of  Wolsey,  1529-1530 281  * 

XI.  The  Work  of  Wolsey 317  ^ 


LIFE  OP  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    STATE   OF    EUROPE. 

1494-1512. 

ALL  men  are  to  be  judged  by  what  they  do,  and 
the  way  in  which  they  do  it.  In  the  case  of  great 
statesman  there  is  a  third  consideration  which  chal- 
lenges our  judgment — what  they  choose  to  do. 
This  consideration  only  presents  itself  in  the  case  of 
great  statesmen,  and  even  then  is  not  always  recog- 
nized. For  the  average  statesman  does  from  day  to 
day  the  business  which  has  to  be  done,  takes  affairs 
as  he  finds  them,  and  makes  the  best  of  them. 
Many  who  deliberately  selected  the  questions  with 
which  they  dealt  have  yet  shrunk  from  the  responsi- 
bility of  their  choice,  and  have  preferred  to  repre- 
sent their  actions  as  inevitable.  Few  can  claim  the 
credit  of  choosing  the  sphere  of  their  activity,  of 
framing  a  connected  policy  with  clear  and  definite 

1 


2  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ends,  and  of  applying  their  ideas  to  every  department 
of  national  organization.  In  short,  statesmen  are  gen- 
erally opportunists,  or  choose  to  represent  themselves 
as  such ;  and  this  has  been  especially  the  case  with 
English  statesmen — amongst  whom  "Wolsey  stands 
out  as  a  notable  exception.  For  Wolsey  claims  rec- 
ognition on  grounds  which  apply  to  himself  alone. 
His  name  is  not  associated  with  any  great  achieve- 
ment, he  worked  out  no  great  measure  of  reform, 
nor  did  he  contribute  any  great  political  idea  which 
was  fruitful  in  after  days.  He  was,  above  all  things, 
a  practical  man,  though  he  pursued  a  line  of  policy 
which  few  understood,  and  which  he  did  not  stop 
to  make  intelligible.  No  very  definite  results  came 
of  it  immediately,  and  the  results  which  came  of  it 
afterwards  were  not  such  as  Wolsey  had  designed. 
Yet,  if  we  consider  his  actual  achievements,  we  are 
bound  to  admit  that  he  was  probably  the  greatest 
political  genius  whom  England  has  ever  produced ; 
for  at  a  great  crisis  of  European  history  he  impressed 
England  with  a  sense  of  her  own  importance,  and  se- 
cured for  her  a  leading  position  in  European  affairs, 
which  since  his  days  has  seemed  her  natural  right. 

Thus  Wolsey  is  to  be  estimated  by  what  he  chose 
to  do  rather  than  by  what  he  did.  He  was  greater 
than  his  achievements.  Yet  Wolsey 's  greatness  did 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  3 

not  rise  beyond  the  conditions  of  his  own  age,  and 
he  left  no  legacy  of  great  thought  or  high  endeavor. 
The  age  in  which  he  lived  was  not  one  of  lofty  as- 
pirations or  noble  aims ;  but  it  was  one  of  large  de- 
signs and  restless  energy.  No  designs  were  cast  in 
so  large  a  mould  as  were  those  of  Wolsey ;  no  states- 
man showed  such  skill  as  he  did  in  weaving  patiently 
the  web  of  diplomatic  intrigue.  His  resources  were 
small,  and  he  husbanded  them  with  care.  He  had 
a  master  who  only  dimly  understood  his  objects,  and 
whose  personal  whims  and  caprices  had  always  to 
be  conciliated.  He  was  ill  supplied  with  agents. 
His  schemes  often  failed  in  detail ;  but  he  was  al- 
ways ready  to  gather  together  the  broken  threads 
and  resume  his  work  without  repining.  In  a  time 
of  universal  restlessness  and  excitement  Wolsey  was 
the  most  plodding,  the  most  laborious,  and  the  most 
versatile  of  those  who  labored  at  statecraft. 

The  field  of  action  which  Wolsey  deliberately 
chose  was  that  of  foreign  policy,  and  his  weapons 
were  diplomacy.  The  Englishmen  of  his  time  were 
like  the  Englishmen  of  to-day,  and  had  little  sym- 
pathy with  his  objects.  Those  who  reaped  the 
benefits  of  his  policy  gave  him  no  thanks  for  it,  nor 
did  they  recognize  what  they  owed  to  him.  Those 
who  exulted  in  the  course  taken  by  the  English  E-ef- 


4  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ormation  regarded  Wolsey  as  its  bitterest  foe,  and 
never  stopped  to  think  that  Wolsey  trained  the  hands 
and  brains  which  directed  it ;  that  Wolsey  inspired 
England  with  the  proud  feeling  of  independence  which 
nerved  her  to  brave  the  public  opinion  of  Europe  ; 
that  Wolsey  impressed  Europe  with  such  a  sense  of 
England's  greatness  that  she  was  allowed  to  go  her 
own  way,  menaced  but  unassailed.  The  spirit 
which  animated  the  England  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury was  due  in  no  small  degree  to  the  splendor  of 
Wolsey 's  successes,  and  to  the  way  in  which  he 
stamped  upon  men's  imagination  a  belief  in  Eng- 
land's greatness.  If  it  is  the  characteristic  of  a 
patriot  to  believe  that  nothing  is  beyond  the  power 
of  his  country  to  achieve,  then  Wolsey  was  the 
most  devoted  patriot  whom  England  ever  produced. 
When  Wolsey  came  to  power,  England  was  an 
upstart  trying  to  claim  for  herself  a  decent  position 
in  the  august  society  of  European  states.  It  was 
Wolsey 's  cleverness  that  set  her  in  a  place  far  above 
that  which  she  had  any  right  to  expect.  For  this 
purpose  Wolsey  schemed  and  intrigued ;  when  one 
plan  failed  he  was  always  ready  with  another.  It 
mattered  little  what  was  the  immediate  object  which 
he  had  in  hand ;  it  mattered  much  that  in  pursuing 
it  he  should  so  act  as  to  increase  the  credit  of  Eng- 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  5 

land,  and  create  a  belief  in  England's  power. 
Diplomacy  can  reckon  few  abler  practitioners  than 
was  Wolsey. 

There  is  little  that  is  directly  ennobling  in  the 
contemplation  of  such  a  career.  It  may  be  doubted 
if  the  career  of  any  practical  statesman  can  be  a 
really  ennobling  study  if  we  have  all  its  activity  re- 
corded in  detail.  At  the  best  it  tells  us  of  much 
which  seems  disingenuous  if  not  dishonest — much  in 
which  nobility  of  aim  or  the  complexity  of  affairs 
has  to  be  urged  in  extenuation  of  shifty  words  and 
ambiguous  actions. 

The  age  in  which  Wolsey  lived  was  immoral  in 
the  sense  in  which  all  periods  are  immoral,  when 
the  old  landmarks  are  disappearing  and  there  is  no 
certainty  about  the  future.  Morality  in  individuals 
and  in  states  alike  requires  an  orderly  life,  a  percep- 
tion of  limits,  a  pursuit  of  definite  ends.  When 
order  is  shattered,  when  limits  are  removed,  when 
all  things  seem  possible,  then  political  morality  dis- 
appears. In  such  a  condition  was  Europe  at  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  old  ideas, 
on  which  the  medieval  conception  of  Christendom 
depended,  were  passing  away.  No  one  any  longer 
regarded  Christendom  as  one  great  commonwealth, 
presided  over  by  Pope  and  Emperor,  who  were  the 


6  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

guardians  of  international  law  and  arbiters  of  inter- 
national relations.  The  Empire  had  long  ceased  to 
exercise  any  control,  because  it  was  destitute  of 
strength.  The  Papacy,  after  vainly  endeavoring  to 
unite  Europe  round  the  old  cry  of  a  crusade  against 
the  Turk,  had  discovered  that  there  was  no  Eu- 
ropean power  on  which  it  could  rely  for  support. 
The  old  ideas  were  gone,  the  old  tribunals  were 
powerless,  the  old  bonds  of  European  union  were 
dissolved. 

The  first  result  of  this  decay  in  the  mediaeval  state- 
system  of  Europe  was  the  emergence  of  vague  plans 
of  a  universal  monarchy.  The  Empire  and  the  Pa- 
pacy had  harmonized  with  the  feudal  conception  of 
a  regulative  supremacy  over  vassals  who  were  free 
to  act  within  the  limits  of  their  obligations  to  their 
superior  lord.  When  the  old  superiors  were  no 
longer  recognized,  the  idea  of  a  supremacy  still  re- 
mained ;  but  there  was  no  other  basis  possible  for 
that  supremacy  than  a  basis  of  universal  sovereignty 
It  was  long  before  any  state  was  sufficiently  power- 
ful to  venture  on  such  a  claim;  but  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  century  saw  France  and  Spain  united  into 
powerful  kingdoms.  In  France,  the  policy  of  Louis 
XI.  succeeded  in  reducing  the  great  feudatories,  and 
established  the  power  of  the  monarchy  as  the  bond 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  7 

of  union  between  provinces  which  were  conscious  of 
like  interests.  In  Spain,  the  marriage  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  united  a  warlike  people  who  swept 
away  the  remains  of  the  Moorish  kingdom.  Ger- 
many, though  nominally  it  recognized  one  ruler, 
had  sacrificed  its  national  kingship  to  the  futile 
claims  of  the  Empire.  The  emperor  had  great  pre- 
tensions, but  was  himself  powerless,  and  the  Ger- 
man princes  steadily  refused  to  lend  him  help  to  give 
reality  to  his  high-sounding  claims.  Unconsciously 
to  themselves,  the  rulers  of  France  and  Spain  were 
preparing  to  attempt  the  extension  of  their  power 
over  the  rest  of  Europe. 

France  under  Charles  VIII.  *  was  the  first  to  give 
expression  to  this  new  idea  of  European  politics. 
The  Italian  expedition  of  Charles  VIII.  marked  the 
end  of  the  Middle  Ages,  because  it  put  forth  a 
scheme  of  national  aggrandizement  which  was  for- 
eign to  mediaeval  conceptions.  The  scheme  sounded 

*  Charles  VIII.,  King  of  France,  was  born  in  1470  and  died 
in  1498.  He  ascended  the  throne  in  1483.  In  1491  he  married 
Anne,  Duchess  of  Brittany,  who  was  affianced  to  Maximilian 
of  Austria,  to  whom  she  had  actually  been  married  by  proxy. 
In  revenge  for  this  insult,  Maximilian  declared  war  against 
Charles  and  effected  an  alliance  for  this  purpose  with  Henry 
VII.  of  England.  Charles  managed  to  settle  this  matter  by 
negotiation  and  then  gave  his  whole  attention  to  the  con- 
quest of  Naples.  In  his  personal  character  he  is  "  represented 
as  having  been  amiable  and  gracious  in  the  highest  degree," 


8  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

fantastic,  and  was  still  cast  in  the  mould  of  mediae- 
val aspirations.  The  kingdom  of  Naples  had  long 
been  in  dispute  between  the  houses  of  Arragon  and 
Anjou.  As  heir  to  the  Angevin  line,  Charles  YIIL 
proposed  to  satisfy  national  pride  by  the  conquest  of 
Naples.  Then  he  appealed  to  the  old  sentiment  of 
Christendom  by  proclaiming  his  design  of  advancing 
against  Constantinople,  expelling  the  Turk  from 
Europe,  and  realizing  the  ideal  of  mediaeval  Chris- 
tianity by  planting  once  more  the  standard  of  the 
Cross  upon  the  Holy  Sepulchre  at  Jerusalem. 

The  first  part  of  his  plan  succeeded  with  a  rapidi- 
ty and  ease  that  bewildered  the  rest  of  Europe.  The 
French  conquest  of  Naples  awakened  men  to  the 
danger  which  threatened  them.  France,  as  ruler  of 
Naples,  could  overrun  the  rest  of  Italy,  and  as  mas- 
ter of  the  Pope  could  use  the  authority  of  the  head 
of  Christendom  to  give  legitimacy  to  further  schemes 
of  aggression.  A  sense  of  common  danger  drew 
the  other  powers  of  Europe  together ;  and  a  league 
of  Spain,  the  Empire,  the  Pope,  Milan,  and  Yenice 
forced  Charles  YIII.  to  retire  from  Naples  (1495), 
where  the  French  conquests  were  rapidly  lost.  A 
threat  of  his  return  next  year  led  to  an  emphatic  re- 
newal of  the  League  and  an  assertion  of  the  basis 
on  which  it  rested — "  the  mutual  preservation  of 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  $ 

states,  so  that  the  more  powerful  might  not  oppress 
the  less  powerful,  and  that  each  should  keep  what 
rightly  belongs  to  him." 

This  League  marks  a  new  departure  in  European 
affairs.  There  was  no  mention  of  the  old  ideas  on 
which  Europe  was  supposed  to  rest.  There  was 
no  recognition  of  papal  or  imperial  supremacy ;  no 
principle  of  European  organization  was  laid  down. 
The  existing  state  of  things  was  to  be  maintained, 
and  the  contracting  powers  were  to  decide  amongst 
themselves  what  rights  and  claims  they  thought 
fit  to  recognize.  Such  a  plan  might  be  useful  to 
check  French  preponderance  at  the  moment,  but  it 
was  fatal  to  the  free  development  of  Europe.  The 
states  that  were  then  powerful  might  grow  in  power ; 
those  that  were  not  yet  strong  were  sure  to  be  pre- 
vented from  growing  stronger.  Dynastic  interests 
were  set  up  as  against  national  interests.  European 
affairs  were  to  be  settled  by  combinations  of  power- 
ful states. 

The  results  of  this  system  were  rapidly  seen. 
France,  of  course,  was  checked  for  the  time;  but 
France,  in  its  turn,  could  enter  the  League  and  be- 
come a  factor  in  European  combinations.  The 
problem  now  for  statesmen  was  how  to  use  this  con- 
cert of  Europe  for  their  own  interests.  Dynastic 


10  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

considerations  were  the  most  obvious  means  of  gain- 
ing powerful  alliances.  Koyal  marriages  became 
matters  of  the  greatest  importance,  because  a  lucky 
union  of  royal  houses  might  secure  a  lasting  pre- 
ponderance. The  Emperor  Maximilian  married  his 
son  Philip  *  to  a  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 
Death  removed  the  nearer  heirs  to  the  Spanish 
rulers,  and  the  son  of  Philip  was  heir  to  Austria, 
the  Netherlands,  and  the  Spanish  kingdoms.  The 
notion  of  a  maintenance  of  European  equilibrium 
faded  away  before  such  a  prospect. 

This  prospect,  however,  was  only  in  the  future. 
For  the  present  there  was  an  opportunity  for  end- 
less scheming.  The  European  League  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  the  existing  state  of  things  resisted  any 
expansion  on  the  part  of  smaller  states,  but  encour- 
aged compacts  for  aggression  amongst  the  more 
powerful.  France,  Spain,  and  Germany  had  each 

*  Philip  (1478-1506),  King  of  Castile,  surnamed  "  Philip  the 
Handsome,"  was  the  son  of  Maximilian  I.  and  Mary  of  Bur- 
gundy. From  his  mother  he  inherited  seventeen  provinces  in 
the  Netherlands.  His  marriage  to  Joanna,  who  was  imbecile 
or  insane,  a  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  occurred  in 
1496.  In  early  life  Philip's  title  was  Archduke  of  Austria ; 
but  on  the  death  of  Isabella,  in  the  year  1504,  he  succeeded, 
through  his  wife's  disability,  to  the  royal  power  of  Castile. 
He  was  the  father  of  Charles  V.,  emperor  of  Germany  (who 
was  also  Don  Carlos  I.  of  Spain) ,  and  of  Ferdinand  I.  also 
emperor  of  Germany. 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  H 

of  them  a  national  existence,  while  Italy  consisted 
of  a  number  of  small  states.  If  Italy  was  to  sur- 
vive it  was  necessary  that  she  should  follow  the 
example  of  her  powerful  neighbors,  and  consolidate 
herself  as  they  had  done.  The  only  state  which 
was  at  that  time  likely  to  unite  Italy  was  Venice ; 
and  Venice,  in  consequence,  became  the  object  of 
universal  jealousy.  The  concert  of  Europe  was  ap- 
plied to  the  Venetian  question,  and  discovered  a 
solution  of  the  simplest  sort.  Instead  of  allowing 
Venice  to  unite  Italy,  it  was  judged  better  to  divide 
Venice.  A  secret  agreement  was  made  between 
Spain,  France,  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  and  the 
Pope  that  they  would  attack  Venice  simultaneously, 
deprive  her  of  her  possessions,  and  divide  them 
amongst  themselves.  There  was  no  lack  of  claims 
and  titles  to  the  possessions  which  were  thus  to  be 
acquired.  The  powers  of  Europe,  being  judges  in 
their  own  cause,  could  easily  state  their  respective 
pleas  and  pronounce  each  other  justified.  The 
League  of  Cambrai,*  which  was  published  at  the 
end  of  1508,  was  the  first  great  production  of  the 
new  system  of  administering  public  law  in  Eu- 
rope. 

*  For  the  League  of  Cambria,  see  below,  page  13,  note  on 
Julius  II. 


12  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Anything  more  iniquitous  could  scarcely  be  con- 
ceived. Venice  deserved  well  at  the  hands  of 
Europe.  She  had  developed  a  great  system  of  com- 
merce with  the  East ;  she  was  the  chief  bulwark 
against  the  advance  of  the  Turkish  power ;  she  was 
the  one  refuge  of  Italian  independence.  Those 
very  reasons  marked  her  out  for  pillage  by  the 
powers  who,  claiming  to  act  in  the  interests  of 
Europe,  interpreted  these  interests  according  to 
their  own  selfishness.  Each  power  hoped  to  appro- 
priate some  of  the  profits  of  Venetian  commerce ; 
each  power  wished  for  a  slice  of  the  domains  of 
Italy.  What  the  Turk  did  was  a  matter  of  little 
consequence ;  he  was  not  the  object  of  immediate 
dread. 

This  League  of  Cambrai  witnessed  the  assimila- 
tion by  the  new  system  of  the  relics  of  the  old.  Im- 
perial and  papal  claims  were  set  in  the  foreground. 
Venice  was  excommunicated  by  the  Pope,  because 
she  had  the  audacity  to  refuse  to  give  up  to  him  at 
once  his  share  of  the  booty.  The  iniquities  of  the 
European  concert  were  flimsily  concealed  by  the  rags 
of  the  old  system  of  the  public  law  of  Europe,  which 
only  meant  that  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor  were 
foremost  in  joining  in  the  general  scramble.  France 
was  first  in  the  field  against  Venice,  and  consequent- 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  13 

ly  France  was  the  chief  gainer.  Pope  Julius  II.,* 
having  won  from  Venice  all  that  he  could  claim, 
looked  with  alarm  on  the  increase  of  the  French 
power  in  Italy.  As  soon  as  he  had  satisfied  himself, 
and  had  reduced  Venice  to  abject  submission,  his 
one  desire  was  to  rid  himself  of  his  troublesome 

*  Julius  II.  (1443-1513),  who  previous  to  his  election  to 
the  papal  chair  was  known  as  Giuliano  della  Rovere,  is  known 
to  lovers  of  art  chiefly  for  his  sumptuous  luxury  and  his 
liberal  patronage  of  the  great  artists  of  his  time,  including 
Michelangelo  and  Raphael.  It  was  he  who,  in  the  last  year 
of  his  life,  laid  the  corner  stone  of  St.  Peter's,  in  Rome.  He 
was  nephew  of  Pope  Sixtus  IV. ,  and  through  his  high  con- 
nections, as  well  as  owing  to  his  own  talents,  he  rose  rapidly 
to  ecclesiastical  honors.  At  the  age  of  twenty-eight  he  was 
bishop  of  Carpentras,  archbishop  of  Avignon,  a  cardinal,  and 
he  held  also  eight  bishoprics  of  less  prominence.  He  owed 
his  election  to  the  Papacy,  in  1503,  to  the  influence  of  Caesar 
Borgia.  He  was  haughty,  of  a  warlike  spirit,  and  his  ambi- 
tion was  unbounded ;  though  the  purpose  of  this  ambition 
was  rather  the  glory  of  the  Church  than  his  own  personal 
aggrandizement.  His  great  aim  was  to  drive  the  foreigners 
out  of  Italy  and  to  free  the  Papacy  from  the  control  of  secular 
powers.  He  drove  Caesar  Borgia  out  of  the  Romagna,  and 
endeavored  unsuccessfully  to  drive  the  Venetians  out  of 
various  parts  of  his  dominions.  In  1508  he  formed  the  league 
of  Cambrai,  between  Louis  XII.,  Maximilian,  and  Ferdinand 
of  Aragon.  against  the  Venetian  republic.  Two  years  later, 
when  the  French  influence  became  dominant,  he  united  with 
the  Venetians  against  them.  He  gained  but  little  by  any  of 
his  alliances,  as  the  expulsion  of  one  power  was  only  followed 
by  the  domination  of  another  power.  He  formed  the  Holy 
League  (one  of  several  alliances  of  that  name)  between  the 
English,  Spaniards,  Swiss,  and  Venetians,  in  1511,  and  in  1512 
he  succeeded  in  driving  the  French  out  of  Italy. 


14-  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

allies.  The  papal  authority  in  itself  could  no  longer 
influence  European  politics ;  but  it  could  give  a  sanc- 
tion to  new  combinations  which  interested  motives 
might  bring  about.  With  cynical  frankness  the 
Papacy,  powerless  in  its  own  resources,  used  its 
privileged  position  to  further  its  temporal  objects. 
"We  cannot  wonder  that  Louis  XII.  of  France  tried 
to  create  a  schism,  and  promoted  the  holding  of  a 
general  council.  We  are  scarcely  surprised  that  the 
fantastic  brain  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian  formed  a 
scheme  of  becoming  the  Pope's  coadjutor,  and  finally 
annexing  the  papal  to  the  imperial  dignity.  On 
every  side  the  old  landmarks  of  Europe  were  disap- 
pearing, and  the  future  was  seen  to  belong  to  the 
strong  hand  and  the  adventurous  wit. 

During  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  England  had 
stood  aloof  from  these  complicated  intrigues.  In- 
deed England  could  not  hope  to  make  her  voice 
heard  in  the  affairs  of  Europe.  The  weak  govern- 
ment of  Henry  VI.,*  and  the  struggles  between  the 

*  Henry  VI.  (1421-1471),  only  son  of  Henry  V.  of  England 
and  Catherine  of  France,  was  a  contemporary  of  Joan  of 
Arc,  and  the  first  part  of  his  career  was  signalized  by  the 
loss  of  the  English  power  in  France.  In  1445  he  married 
Margaret  of  Anjou.  In  1451,  having  lost  all  his  possessions 
in  France,  he  returned  to  England.  While  he  was  remark- 
ably gentle  and  inoffensive,  he  was  weak  to  the  point  of  im- 
becility. His  reign  was  at  the  time  of  the  disastrous  civil 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  15 

Yorkist  and  Lancastrian  factions,  had  reduced  her  to 
political  exhaustion.  *  While  France  and  Spain  had 
grown  into  strong  kingdoms,  England  had  dwindled 

strife  known  as  the  Wai's  of  the  Roses,  and  his  life  was  one 
long  succession  of  disasters.  He  was  defeated,  imprisoned, 
several  times  liberated  and  recaptured,  and  finally  died,  or 
was  murdered,  in  prison.  His  wife,  Queen  Margaret,  fled  to 
Scotland  after  the  battle  of  Northampton,  in  1460,  and  from 
that  country  she  for  several  years  kept  up  the  war  against 
the  English  with  a  vigor  that  gave  her  husband's  enemies  no 
little  trouble.  For  a  good  interpretation  of  Henry's  traits 
and  of  the  leading  events  of  his  reign,  the  reader  is  referred 
to  Shakspeare's  drama,  "  Henry  VI.,"  in  three  parts. 

*  The  Wars  of  the  Roses  were  the  scourge  of  England  for 
thirty  years.  "These  ducal  ups  and  downs  gradually 
separated  the  whole  nation  into  the  two  parties  of  York  and 
Lancaster,  and  led  to  those  terrible  civil  wars  long  known  as 
the  Wars  of  the  Red  and  White  Roses,  because  the  Red  Rose 
was  the  badge  of  the  House  of  Lancaster,  and  the  White  Rose 
was  the  badge  of  the  House  of  York 

"Some  of  the  best  men,  seeing  the  danger  of  these  con- 
stant changes,  tried  even  then  to  prevent  the  Red  and  White 
Rose  Wars.  They  brought  about  a  great  council  in  London 
between  the  two  parties.  The  White  Roses  assembled  in 
Blackfriars,  and  the  Red  Roses  in  Whitefriars ;  and  some 
good  priests  communicated  between  them,  and  made  the 
proceedings  known  at  even  to  the  King  and  the  judges.  They 
ended  in  a  peaceful  agreement  that  there  should  be  no  more 
quarreling ;  and  there  was  a  great  royal  possession  to  St. 
Paul's,  in  which  the  Queen  walked  arm-in-arm  with  her  old 
enemy,  the  Duke  of  York,  to  show  the  people  how  comfort- 
able they  all  were.  This  state  of  peace  lasted  half  a  year, 
when  a  dispute  between  the  Earl  of  Warwick  (one  of  the 
Duke's  powerful  friends)  and  some  of  the  King's  servants  at 
Court,  led  to  an  attack  upon  that  Earl — who  was  a  White 
Eose — and  to  a  sudden  breaking  out  of  all  the  old  animosities. 


16  LIFE  OP  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

into  a  third-rate  power.  Henry  YII.  *  had  enough 
to  do  in  securing  his  own  throne  against  pretenders, 
and  in  reducing  the  remnants  of  the  feudal  nobility 
to  obedience.  He  so  far  worked  in  accordance  with 
the  prevailing  spirit  that  he  steadily  increased  the 
royal  power.  He  fell  in  with  the  temper  of  the 

So,  here  were  greater  ups  and  downs  than  ever.  There  were 
even  greater  ups  and  downs  than  these,  soon  after."  Dickens, 
Child's  History  of  England,  Chapter  xxii. 

The  cause  of  these  wars  was  that  both  parties  claimed  the 
right  of  succession  to  the  throne  by  reason  of  their  descent 
from  Edward  III.,  who  died  in  1377,  leaving  the  crown  to 
his  grandson,  Richard  II.  The  wars  lasted  from  1455  to  1485, 
and  were  exceedingly  bloody.  During  their  progress  the 
nobility  of  England  was  very  nearly  wiped  out.  These  wars 
were  brought  to  an  end  by  the  victory  of  Henry  VII.,  at  Bos- 
worth  in  1485.  See  note  on  Henry  VII. 

*  Henry  VII.  (1456-1509),  founder  of  the  line  of  Tudors 
and  father  of  Henry  VIII.,  was  a  son  of  Edmond  Tudor,  Earl 
of  Richmond,  and  Margaret  Beaufort,  of  the  line  of  John  of 
Gaunt,  head  of  the  house  of  Lancaster.  He  was  leader  of  the 
Lancastrian  forces  against  the  iniquitous  Richard  III.,  and  by 
the  defeat  and  death  of  Richard  at  the  battle  of  Bosworth,  in 
1485,  he  became  king.  (See  Shakspeare's  Richard  III.)  He 
was  in  the  main  a  prudent  and  vigorous  king,  but  his  rapa- 
cious and  grasping  disposition  was  a  bar  to  his  popularity 
even  in  his  own  party.  His  daughter  Margaret  wedded 
James  IV.  of  Scotland,  and  this  act  was  the  first  step  in  the 
union  of  the  two  countries.  His  son  Arthur  married  Katha- 
rine of  Aragon,  who  was  afterwards  wife  of  Henry  VIII, 
Arthur's  younger  brother.  The  entire  period  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  VII.  v  as  characterized  by  momentous  changes  :  two 
of  the  most  noteworthy  events  were  the  discovery  of  America 
and  the  invention  of  printing. 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  17 

time,  and  formed  matrimonial  alliances  which  might 
bear  political  fruits.  He  gave  his  daughter  in  mar- 
riage to  the  King  of  Scotland,  in  the  hopes  of  there- 
by bringing  the  Scottish  Crown  into  closer  relation 
with  England.  He  sought  for  a  connexion  with 
Spain  by  marrying  his  eldest  son  Arthur  to  Katha- 
rine,* a  daughter  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  on 
Arthur's  untimely  death  Katharine  became  the  wife 
of  his  next  son  Henry.  Further,  Henry  VII.  gave 
his  general  approval  to  the  League  of  1496 ;  he 

*  Katharine  of  Aragon  (1486-1536)  was  married  to  Arthur, 
eldest  son  of  Henry  VII.,  and  heir  apparent  to  the  throne  of 
England,  in  1501,  both  parties  being  at  the  time  fifteen  years 
of  age.  Arthur  died  the  next  year,  and  a  year  later,  in  1503, 
she  was  affianced  to  Prince  Henry,  afterward  Henry  VIII., 
who  was  six  years  younger  than  herself,  and  the  marriage 
was  solemnized  soon  after  he  ascended  the  throne  in  1509. 
The  proceedings  for  the  divorce  which  was  finally  secured, 
were  begun  in  1527.  Katharine  died  in  1536. 

Ludovico  Falier,  a  Venetian  ambassador  who  resided  in 
London  from  1528  to  1531,  describes  Queen  Katharine  in  the 
following  words: — "  My  lady  the  queen  is  low  of  stature,  in- 
clining to  corpulency,  a  handsome  woman,  of  great  repute, 
upright,  and  full  of  goodishness  and  devotion.  She  speaks 
Spanish,  Flemish,  French,  and  English.  She  is  beloved  by 
these  islanders  far  more  than  any  queen  they  have  had.  She 
is  forty-five  years  old,  thirty  of  which  have  passed  since  the 
death  of  her  first  husband.  By  the  present  king  she  has  had 
two  sons  and  a  daughter.  One  of  these  sons  died  at  the  age 
of  six  months.  The  second  lived  scarcely  long  enough  to  be 
baptized.  There  remains  only  the  daughter,  sixteen  years 
old,  a  beautiful,  kind,  and  most  accomplished  princess,  not  at 
all  inferior  to  her  mother." 
2 


18  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

joined  it,  but  would  promise  no  armed  aid  nor  money. 
In  short,  he  did  enough  to  claim  for  England  a 
place  in  the  new  system  of  the  European  common- 
wealth, though  he  himself  declined  to  take  any 
active  part  in  the  activity  that  was  consequently  de- 
veloped. He  was  old  before  his  years,  and  was  un- 
equal to  any  additional  labor.  He  had  saved  his 
reputation  by  his  cautious  and  skilful  policy  at  home. 
The  statesmen  of  Europe  respected  him  for  what  he 
had  done  already,  but  they  did  not  expect  him  to 
do  anything  more.  He  had  secured  his  dynasty, 
reduced  his  lands  to  order,  favored  its  commerce, 
and  secured  for  it  peace.  He  had  lived  frugally  and 
had  saved  money,  which  was  not  the  fortune  of  the 
more  adventurous  princes.  England  was  looked 
upon  with  an  eye  of  condescending  favor  by  the  great 
powers  of  Europe.  Her  population  was  small,  about 
three  millions  and  a  half ;  her  military  forces  had  not 
been  trained  in  the  new  methods  of  European  war- 
fare ;  her  navy  was  not  kept  up  on  a  war  footing. 
She  could  not  rank  higher  than  a  third-rate  power. 
So  England  stood  when  Henry  VII.  died,  and 
was  succeeded  by  his  son  Henry  VIII. ,  a  youth  of 
nineteen.  We  may  indulge  ourselves,  if  we  choose, 
in  speculations  on  the  probable  effects  if  Henry 
VIII.  had  been  content  to  pursue  his  father's  policy. 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  19 

The  picture  of  England,  peaceful  and  contented 
while  the  rest  of  Europe  is  engaged  in  wasteful  and 
wicked  war,  is  attractive  as  an  ideal  in  English 
politics.  England  in  the  sixteenth  century  might 
have  stood  aloof  from  European  affairs,  and  might 
have  prospered  in  her  own  fashion.  But  one  thing 
is  certain,  that  she  would  never  have  become  the 
England  of  to-day ;  the  JSTew  World,  and  the  pos- 
sessions of  the  British  Empire,  would  have  been 
divided  between  France  and  Spain;  the  course  of 
civilization  would  have  been  widely  different.  For 
good  or  for  evil  the  fortunes  of  England  were  given 
a  decided  direction  by  Henry  VIII. 's  advance  into 
the  sphere  of  European  politics.  England  took  up 
a  position  from  which  she  could  not  afterwards 
retire. 

It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  inquire  if  Henry 
VIII.  could  by  prudence  and  caution  have  continued 
to  keep  clear  of  the  complications  of  European  pol- 
itics, and  make  England  strong  by  husbanding  its 
resources  and  developing  its  commerce.  Such  a 
course  of  action  was  not  deemed  possible  by  any 
one.  All  classes  alike  believed  that  national  pros- 
perity followed  upon  the  assertion  of  national  power. 
The  commercial  interests  of  England  would  have 
had  little  chance  of  being  respected  unless  they 


20  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

were  connected  with  political  interests  as  well.  If 
Henry  VIII.  had  lived  frugally  like  his  father,  and 
avoided  adventurous  schemes  for  which  he  needed 
the  money  of  his  people,  the  English  monarchy 
would  have  become  a  despotism,  and  the  royal  will 
would  have  been  supreme  in  all  internal  affairs. 
England  was  not  exposed  to  this  danger.  Henry 
VIII.,  when  he  ascended  the  throne  at  the  age  of 
nineteen,  was  fully  imbued  by  the  spirit  of  his  time. 
The  story  goes  that  when  Leo  X.  was  elected  Pope 
he  turned  to  his  brother  and  said  with  a  smile, 
<  <  Let  us  enjoy  the  Papacy,  since  God  has  given  it 
to  us."  Henry  VIII.  was  resolved  to  enjoy  his 
kingship  to  the  full ;  he  wished  to  show  Europe  that 
he  was  every  inch  a  king,  and  equal  to  the  best. 

Henry  VIII.  in  his  early  days  had  been  educated 
with  a  view  to  high  ecclesiastical  preferment,  and 
was  a  youth  of  many  accomplishments  of  mind  and 
body.  His  tall  stalwart  frame,  his  fair  round  face 
and  profusion  of  light  hair,  his  skill  in  athletic  exer- 
cises, made  the  Venetian  envoy  pronounce  him  to  be 
the  handsomest  and  most  capable  king  in  Christen- 
dom.* He  inherited  the  geniality,  the  physical 

*  Ludovico  Falier,  as  quoted  by  Lingard,  describes  Henry 
VIII.  in  the  following  words  : 

"  His  features  are,  I  will  not  say  beautiful ;  they  are  an- 
gelic. His  look  is  commanding,  but  gentle.  Contrary  to  the 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  21 

strength,  the  resoluteness  of  the  Yorkist  house,  and 
combined  them  with  the  self-restraint  and  caution 

English  fashion,  he  wears  his  beard.  Who  can  look  at  him, 
when  he  is  in  action,  without  astonishment,  so  surpassing  is 
the  beauty  of  his  person,  so  winning  the  ease  and  graceful- 
ness of  his  manner.  He  sits  well  on  horseback  ;  he  is  com- 
pletely master  of  his  steed  ;  he  tilts,  and  bears  his  lance 
nobly;  he  draws  the  sword  and  the  bow  admirably,  and  plays 
at  tennis  with  extraordinary  skill.  He  applied  to  the  belles- 
lettres  from  his  childhood,  afterwards  to  the  study  of  phi- 
losophy and  theology,  so  that  he  has  acquired  the  name  of  a 
learned  and  accomplished  prince.  Besides  the  Latin  and  his 
mother  tongue,  he  learned  the  Spanish,  French,  and  Italian 
languages.  He  is  affable,  gracious,  very  polite  and  courteous  ; 
and  liberal  in  his  presents,  especially  to  men  of  learning. 
Yet  with  all  his  knowledge  and  acuteness,  he  allowed  himself 
to  fall  into  amorous  pursuits  so  far  that,  thinking  only  of  his 
pleasures,  he  left  the  government  of  his  kingdom  to  his  most 
trusty  ministers,  till  the  time  when  he  began  to  persecute  the 
cardinal  of  York  [Cardinal  WolseyJ.  From  that  moment  he 
has  been  quite  enamored  with  his  own  management,  and  is 
become  quite  another  man.  He  was  generous,  is  now  covet- 
ous ;  and,  as  formerly  no  one  took  leave  of  him  without  a  satis- 
factory present,  now  every  one  goes  away  in  discontent.  He 
appears  to  be  devout.  He  generally  hears  two  low  masses  ;  and 
the  high  mass  also  on  festivals.  He  is  exceedingly  charitable  to 
orphans  and  widows,  to  young  maidens,  and  persons  wounded 
or  maimed,  to  the  amount  of  about  10,000  ducats  [$32,800.] 
a  year.  He  is  beloved  by  all.  He  is  determined  on  effecting 
a  divorce.  His  object  is  to  have  a  legitimate  male  issue  ;  and 
as  he  has  no  hope  of  having  such  by  my  lady  Katherine.  he 
will  assuredly  marry  his  favorite,  a  daughter  of  the  earl  of 
Wiltshire.  There  cannot  be  a  doubt  that  such  a  marriage 
will  take  place  ;  after  which  it  is  possible  that  his  majesty 
may  be  troubled  with  insurrections  on  the  part  of  those  who 
favor  the  queen  ;  for  she  is  so  much  beloved  and  revered  by 
the  people  that  they  begin  already  to  show  their  discontent." 


22  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

of  the  Lancastrians.  ~No  king  began  his  reign  with 
greater  popularity,  and  the  belief  in  the  soundness 
of  his  head  and  heart  filled  all  men  with  hopes  of  a 
long  period  of  just  and  prosperous  government. 
But  many  hoped  for  more  than  this.  The  reign  of 
Henry  VII.  had  been  successful,  but  inglorious. 
The  strong  character  and  the  generous  impulses  of 
the  new  ruler  were  not  likely  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  cautious  intrigues  and  petty  calculations  of  his 
father.  England  looked  forward  to  a  glorious  and 
distinguished  future.  It  believed  in  its  king,  and 
clave  to  its  belief  in  spite  of  many  disappointments. 
Not  all  the  harsh  doings  of  Henry  VIII.  exhausted 
the  popularity  with  which  he  began  his  reign,  and 
in  the  midst  of  his  despotism  he  never  lost  his  hold 
upon  the  people. 

So  Henry  VIII.  carried  out  the  plan  which  his 
father  had  formed  for  him.  He  married  Katharine, 
his  brother's  widow,  and  so  confirmed  the  alliance 
with  Ferdinand  of  Spain.*  He  renewed  the  marri- 

*  This  marriage  between  Henry  VIII.  and  Katharine  of 
Aragon  led  to  momentous  consequences  a  generation  later. 
After  Henry  put  away  Katharine,  he  married  Anne  Boleyn 
to  whom  was  born  Elizabeth.  The  Spanish  nation  could 
never  forgive  the  insult  shown  in  the  divorce  of  Queen  Kath- 
arine, and  it  was  out  of  the  question  for  Philip  II.  of  Spain 
to  acknowledge  the  legitimacy  of  Elizabeth  or  to  make  an 
alliance  with  her  ;  and  to  his  dying  day  he  never  gave  up  th§ 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  23 

age  treaty  between  his  sister  Mary  and  Charles, 
Prince  of  Castile,  heir  of  the  Netherlands,  and  eld- 
est grandson  of  Ferdinand  and  Maximilian  alike. 
Charles  was  only  a  boy  of  nine,  aud  had  great  pros- 
pects of  a  large  heritage.  England  was  likely,  if 
this  arrangement  were  carried  out,  to  be  a  useful 
but  humble  ally  to  the  projects  of  the  houses  of 
Hapsburg  and  Spain,  useful  because  of  its  position, 
which  commanded  the  Channel,  and  could  secure 
communications  between  the  Netherlands  and  Spain, 
humble  because  it  had  little  military  reputation  or 
capacity  for  diplomacy. 

The  alliance,*  however,  between  Ferdinand  and 

hope  of  invading  that  country.  It  is  true  that  England  came 
out  of  the  conflict  with  great  glory,  but  it  was  at  the  cost  of 
millions  of  money  and  many  thousands  of  brave  men. 

*  The  alliance  here  referred  to  is  the  League  of  Cambrai. 
But  beyond  this,  the  two  emperors  were  allied  by  the  mar- 
riage between  Philip  the  Handsome,  son  of  Maximilian,  and 
the  Infanta  of  Spain.  This  marriage,  however,  was  not  only 
an  alliance,  it  was  a  cause  of  jealousy ;  for  it  raised  questions 
concerning  the  succession  of  both  empires,  that  caused  no 
little  anxiety  to  the  two  emperors. 

Maximilian  I.  (1459-1519),  emperor  of  Germany,  was  one 
of  the  most  powerful  of  European  monarchs.  His  first  wife 
was  Mary  of  Burgundy,  who  left  him  two  children  :  Philip 
and  Margaret.  After  the  death  of  Mary  of  Burgundy,  Mar- 
garet was  betrothed  to  the  Dauphin  of  France,  who  was 
afterward  Charles  VIII.,  but  the  latter  refused  to  keep  his 
marriage  engagement.  This  led  to  a  war,  and  though  matters 
were  arranged  by  negotiation — Charles  consenting  to  pay  a 


24:  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Maximilian  was  by  no  means  close.  Ferdinand  by 
his  marriage  with  Isabella  had  united  the  kingdoms 
of  Castile  and  Arragon ;  but  after  Isabella's  death 
he  had  no  claim  to  the  Crown  of  Castile,  which 
passed  to  his  daughter  Juana.  Already  Juana's 
husband,  the  Archduke  Philip,  had  claimed  the 
regency  of  Castile,  and  Ferdinand  was  only  saved 
by  Philip's  death  from  the  peril  of  seeing  much  of 

dowry — the  relations  between  the  two  kings  never  became 
friendly.  Maximilian  greatly  enlarged  the  German  army  and 
introduced  effective  discipline.  He  was  a  liberal  patron  of 
learning.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  grandson,  Charles  V., 
who  was  also  grandson  of  Ferdinand,  and  who  was  known 
also  as  Don  Carlos  I.,  of  Spain. 

Ferdinand  (1452-1516).  surnamed  the  Catholic,  was  king  of 
Castile  and  Aragon.  His  wife  Isabella  was  the  patron  of 
Columbus  in  his  discovery  of  America.  The  fame  of  these 
two  monarchs  is  sullied  by  the  establishment,  or  the  enlarge- 
ment, of  the  Inquisition.  On  the  other  hand,  they  were  mu- 
nificent patrons  of  learning,  and  universities  were  founded 
throughout  the  kingdom  for  the  education  of  the  Spanish. 
The  conquest  of  Grenada,  and  the  opening  of  the  newly  dis- 
covered America,  with  the  conquest  of  Mexico,  Peru,  etc., 
gave  Spain  a  glorious  empire.  It  was  a  warlike  age,  and 
Ferdinand,  perpetually  engaged  in  one  or  more  of  his  numer- 
ous wars,  had  little  chance  to  enjoy  the  triumphs  of  Peace. 
"  As  a  sovereign,  he  was  brave,  affable,  indefatigable  in  busi- 
ness, temperate  in  his  habits,  and  strongly  attached  to  the 
Catholic  religion  ;  but  he  was  bigoted,  cruel,  selfish  in  the 
extreme,  and  ungenerous  to  those  to  whom  he  was  greatly 
indebted.  For  shrewdness  and  policy  he  excelled  every  other 
monarch  of  his  age."  He,  like  Maximilian,  was  succeeded 
by  his  grandson,  Charles  V.  of  Germany,  who  was  also  Don 
Carlos  I.  of  Spain. 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  25 

his  work  undone.  The  claim  to  Castile  had  now 
passed  to  the  young  Charles,  and  Ferdinand  was 
afraid  lest  Maximilian  should  at  any  time  revive  it 
in  behalf  of  his  grandson.  He  was  unwilling  to 
help  in  any  way  to  increase  Maximilian's  power, 
and  rejoiced  that  in  the  results  of  the  League  of 
Cambrai  little  profit  fell  to  Maximilian's  share.  The 
Pope  gained  all  that  he  wished ;  Ferdinand  acquired 
without  a  blow  the  Venetian  possessions  in  the 
Neapolitan  kingdom ;  the  French  arms  were  trium- 
phant in  North  Italy ;  but  Yenice  continued  to  offer 
a  stubborn  resistance  to  Maximilian.  In  vain  Maxi- 
milian implored  Ferdinand's  help.  He  was  un- 
moved till  the  successes  of  the  French  awakened  in 
his  mind  serious  alarm.  The  authors  of  the  League 
of  Cambrai  began  to  be  afraid  of  the  catastrophe 
which  they  had  caused.  They  did  not  wish  to  see 
the  French  supreme  in  Italy,  but  their  combination 
had  gone  far  to  ensure  the  French  supremacy. 

Pope  Julius  II.  felt  himself  most  directly  threatened 
by  the  growth  of  the  French  power.  He  resolved 
to  break  up  the  League  of  Cambrai,  and  so  undo 
his  own  work,  He  tried  to  gain  support  from  the 
Swiss  and  from  England.  He  released  Yenice 
from  her  excommunication,  and  showed  himself 
steadfastly  opposed  to  France.  He  did  his  utmost 


26  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

to  induce  Ferdinand  and  Maximilian  to  renounce 
the  League.  Ferdinand  was  cautious,  and  only  gave 
his  secret  countenance  to  the  Pope's  designs.  Maxi- 
milian, anxious  to  make  good  his  claims  against 
Venice,  wavered  between  an  alliance  with  France 
and  a  rupture.  Louis  XII.  of  France  was  embar- 
rassed by  the  hostility  of  the  Pope,  whom  he  tried 
to  terrify  into  submission.  His  troops  advanced 
against  Bologna,  where  Julius  II.  was  residing. 
The  Pope  fled,  but  the  French  forces  did  not  pur- 
sue him.  Louis  was  not  prepared  to  treat  the  Pope 
as  merely  a  temporal  sovereign,  andKome  was  spared 
a  siege.  But  Louis  was  so  ill- judging  as  to  attack 
the  Pope  on  his  spiritual  side.  He  raised  the  old 
cry  of  a  General  Council  for  the  reform  of  the 
Church,  and  drew  to  his  side  a  few  disaffected  car- 
dinals, who  summoned  a  Council  to  assemble  at 
Pisa. 

This  half-hearted  procedure  was  fatal  to  all  hopes 
of  French  supremacy.  Had  Louis  XII.  promptly 
dealt  with  Julius  II.  by  force  of  arms  he  would 
have  rendered  the  Pope  powerless  to  interfere  with 
his  political  plans,  and  no  one  would  have  inter- 
posed to  help  the  Pope  in  his  capacity  of  an  Italian 
prince.  But  when  the  French  king  showed  that  he 
was  afraid  of  the  papal  dignity  in  temporal  matters, 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  27 

while  he  was  ready  to  attack  it  in  spiritual  matters 
he  entered  upon  a  course  of  action  which  was  dan- 
gerous to  Europe.  Ferdinand  was  waiting  for  a 
good  pretext  to  free  himself  from  further  share  in 
the  policy  of  the  League  of  Cambrai,  and  Louis 
provided  him  with  the  pretext  which  he  sought. 
Shocked  at  the  danger  of  a  neAV  schism,  Ferdinand, 
in  October  1511,  entered  into  a  League  with  the 
Pope  and  Venice,  a  League  which  took  the  high- 
sounding  title  of  the  Holy  League,*  since  it  was 
formed  for  the  protection  of  the  Papacy. 

Of  this  Holy  League  Henry  VIII.  became  a 
member  in  December,  and  so  stepped  boldly  into 
the  politics  of  Europe.  He  was  at  first  a  submis- 
sive son  of  King  Ferdinand,  whose  daughter,  Queen 
Katharine,  acted  as  Spanish  ambassador  at  the  Eng- 
lish Court.  Henry  wished  to  make  common  cause 

*  The  phrase  "  Holy  League  "  is  not  uncommon  in  history, 
and  the  one  here  mentioned  is  one  of  half  a  dozen  of  the 
same  name.  The  real  occasion  of  this  was  the  success  of  the 
League  of  Cambrai,  formed  in  1508,  or  rather,  certain  results 
that  followed  that  success.  By  the  latter  alliance,  the  Pope, 
Julius  II.,  had  brought  the  French  into  his  dominions  to  drive 
out  the  Venetians  ;  but  when  that  object  was  accomplished, 
his  holiness  found  the  presence  of  the  French  quite  as  dis- 
agreeable to  him  as  that  of  the  Venetians  had  been,  and  so  it 
was  necessary  to  form  this  new  alliance,  the  Holy  League,  to 
drive  out  the  French.  This  plan  of  using  one  nation  to  drive 
out  another,  proved  to  be  very  nearly  an  endless  chain. 


28  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

with  his  father-in-law,  and  trusted  implicitly  to 
him  for  assurances  of  goodwill.  He  made  a  sepa 
rate  accord  with  Ferdinand  that  a  combined  army 
should  invade  Guienne.  If  the  French  were  de- 
feated Ferdinand  would  be  able  to  conquer  Na- 
varre, and  England  would  seize  Guienne.  The 
gain  to  England  would  be  great,  as  Guienne  would 
be  a  secure  refuge  for  English  commerce,  and  its 
possession  would  make  the  English  king  an  impor- 
tant personage  in  Europe,  for  he  would  stand  be- 
tween Spain  and  France. 

The  scheme  was  not  fantastic  or  impossible,  pro- 
vided that  Ferdinand  was  in  earnest.  Henry  be- 
lieved in  his  good  faith,  but  he  still  had  the  confi- 
dence of  youth.  Ferdinand  trusted  no  one,  and  if 
others  were  like  himself  he  was  wise  in  his  distrust. 
Every  year  he  grew  more  suspicious  and  fonder  of 
crooked  ways.  He  took  no  man's  counsel;  he 
made  fair  professions  on  every  side;  his  only  ob- 
ject was  to  secure  himself  at  the  least  cost.  His 
confiding  son-in-law  was  soon  to  discover  that  Fer- 
dinand only  meant  to  use  English  gold  as  a  means 
for  furthering  his  own  designs  against  France ;  he 
did  not  intend  that  England  should  have  any  share 
in  the  advantage. 

Unconscious  of  the  selfishness  of  his  ally,  Henry 


THE  STATE  OF  EUROPE.  29 

VIII .  prepared  for  war  in  the  winter  of  1512.  In 
these  preparations  the  capacity  of  Thomas  Wolsey 
first  made  itself  felt,  and  the  course  of  the  war  that 
followed  placed  Wolsey  foremost  in  the  confidence 
of  the  English  king. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FKENCH  ALLIANCE, 
1512-1515. 

THOMAS  WOLSEY  was  born  at  Ipswich,*  probably 
in  March  1471.  He  was  the  son  of  Robert  Wolsey 
and  Joan  his  wife.  Contemporary  slander,  wishing 
to  make  his  fortunes  more  remarkable  or  his  pre- 
sumption more  intolerable,  represented  his  father  as 
a  man  of  mean  estate,  a  butcher  by  trade.  How- 
ever, Robert  Wolsey 's  will  shows  that  he  was  a 
man  of  good  position,  probably  a  grazier  and  wool 
merchant,  with  relatives  who  were  also  well-to-do. 
Thomas  seems  to  have  been  the  eldest  of  his  family, 
and  his  father's  desire  was  that  he  should  enter  the 
priesthood.  He  showed  quickness  in  study;  so 
much  so  that  he  went  to  Oxford  at  the  early  age  of 

*  Ipswich,  the  birthplace  of  Cardinal  Wolsey,  is  sixty-six 
miles  northeast  of  London.  It  is  a  very  old  town ,  and  was 
twice  burnt  by  the  Danes  :  once  in  the  year  991,  and  again  in 
1000.  William  the  Conqueror  (1025-1087)  strengthened  it  by 
the  building  of  a  castle  which  has  long  since  gone  to  ruins. 
It  is,  in  a  small  way,  an  educational  centre,  having  a  number 
of  schools ;  the  grammar  school  was  restored  by  Wolsey. 
The  present  population  is  about  50,000. 

30 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  31 

eleven,  and  became  Bachelor  of  Arts  when  he  was 
fifteen.  His  studies  do  not  seem  to  have  led  him  in 
the  direction  of  the  new  learning;*  he  was  well 
versed  in  the  theology  of  the  schools,  and  is  said  to 
have  been  a  devoted  adherent  to  the  system  of  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas,  f  But  it  was  not  by  the  life  of  a 

*  The  New  Learning  was  the  name  given  in  England  to 
that  intellectual  awakening  of  Europe  that  was  led  by  the 
Renaissance  in  Italy.  The  pre-eminent  leader  of  the  intel- 
lectual, as  distinguished  from  the  artistic,  phase  of  this  move- 
ment, was  the  famous  scholar  Erasmus  (1465?-1536).  The 
leaders  in  England  were  Sir  Thomas  More,  Colet,  and  War- 
ham,  besides  Erasmus  himself.  The  latter,  though  not  an 
Englishman,  was  welcomed  in  that  country,  and  he  spent,  in 
all,  five  or  six  years  in  forwarding  the  movement  in  connec- 
tion with  the  universities.  More's  celebrated  book,  Utopia 
(meaning  Nowhere) ,  is  an  excellent  exposition  of  the  spirit  of 
the  New  Learning.  See  also  below,  p.  156,  note. 

f  Thomas  Aquinas  (1225?-1274),  called  "  the  Angelic  Doc- 
tor "  because  of  the  purity  of  his  life,  was  born  near  Naples, 
studied  under  Albertus  Magnus,  and  taught  and  preached  in 
Paris  and  Rome.  His  talents  brought  him  many  offers  of 
ecclesiastical  promotion,  all  of  which  he  modestly  and  humbly 
refused.  One  well-known  anecdote  illustrates  the  wit  and 
spirit  of  the  man.  He  was  once  in  the  presence  of  Pope  In- 
nocent IV.,  before  whom  a  large  sum  of  money  was  spread 
out.  "  You  see,"  said  the  Pope,  "  the  Church  is  no  longer  in 
that  age  in  which  she  said,  *  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none.'  " 
"  True,  holy  father,"  quickly  responded  the  doctor  ;  "  neither 
can  she  any  longer  say  to  the  lame,  Rise  up  and  walk." 
Hallam  says:  "The  greatest  of  the  schoolmen  were  the  Do- 
minican Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the  Franciscan  Duns  Scotus. 
They  were  founders  of  rival  sects,  which  wrangled  with  each 
other  for  two  or  three  centuries."  His  most  important  work 
was  entitled  Summa  Theologian,  or  Sum  of  Theology. 


32  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

student  or  the  principles  of  a  philosopher  that  Wol- 
sey  rose  to  eminence.  If  he  learned  anything  in 
his  University  career  he  learned  a  knowledge  of  men 
and  of  their  motives. 

In  due  course  he  became  a  Fellow  of  Magdalen,* 


*  Magdalen  (pronounced  Maudlin)  College  in  the  University 
of  Oxford  was  founded  by  William  Waynflete,  bishop  of 
Winchester.  In  1448  he  obtained  a  royal  licence  for  the 
foundation  of  an  academical  hall  at  Oxford,  under  the  patron- 
age of  St.  Mary  Magdalen.  Just  ten  years  later,  the  founder 
issued  a  formal  charter  establishing  the  College  of  the  blessed 
Mary  Magdalen,  commonly  called  Magdalen  College.  The 
foundation  stone  was  laid  in  1474,  and  the  building  is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  of  mediaeval  or  modern  times. 

Wolsey's  connection  with  Oxford  dates  from  an  early 
period  of  his  life,  for  he  was  made  Bachelor  of  Arts  at  fifteen 
years  of  age  *  which,'  Cavendish  notes,  '  was  a  rare  thing  and 
seldom  seen,'  and  led  to  his  being  called  '  the  Boy  Bachelor.' 
In  1497  his  name  occurs  in  a  list  of  Masters  of  Arts  holding 
Fellowships  at  Magdalen  College,  and  in  the  following  year 
he  was  one  of  the  bursars  of  that  wealthy  institution.  For 
six  months  he  acted  as  master  of  the  school  established  there 
by  William  Waynflete,  and  he  had  among  his  pupils  the  three 
sons  of  the  Marquess  of  Dorset,  through  whose  favor  he  was 
destined  to  obtain  his  first  ecclesiastical  benefice.  Neverthe- 
less John  Skelton,  the  poet,  does  not  scruple  to  deride  him  as 
an  unlearned  man  : — 

'  He  was  but  a  poor  master  of  art 
God  wot,  had  little  part 
Of  the  quadrivals 
Nor  yet  of  tri vials 
Nor  of  philosophy. 

His  Latin  tongue  doth  hobble, 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  33 

and  master  of  the  grammar  school  attached  to  the 
College.     Soon  afterwards,  in  1498,  he  was  bursar ; 

He  doth  but  clout  and  cobble 
In  Tully's  faculty.' 

A  greater  poet  than  Skelton  has  recorded  the  opinion  of  the 
next  generation  very  differently  : — 

'  This  Cardinal 

Though  from  an  humble  stock,  undoubtedly 
Was  fashion'd  to  much  honor,  from  his  cradle. 
He  was  a  scholar,  and  a  ripe  and  good  one  ; 
Exceeding  wise,  fair-spoken,  and  persuading : 
Lofty  and  sour  to  them  that  lov'd  him  not, 
But,  to  those  men  that  sought  him,  sweet  as  summer.' 
(Shakspeare,  Henry  the  Eighth,  Act  iv.,  sc.  2.) 

"  Wolsey  was  senior  bursar  of  Magdalen  College  in  1499  and 
1500,  and  in  the  latter  year  he  retired  to  a  living  in  Somerset- 
shire. While  he  was  being  rapidly  promoted  from  benefice  to 
benefice,  he  maintained  friendly  relations  with  his  former  col- 
leagues at  Oxford,  and  in  1510  he  took  the  degree  of  Bachelor 
of  Divinity.  During  his  brief  occupation  of  the  see  of  Lincoln, 
the  resident  graduates  of  the  University  began  to  recognize 
his  growing  power  in  the  State,  and  wrote  to  solicit  his  as- 
sistance in  defence  of  their  privileges.  A  few  months  later, 
when  he  was  Archbishop  of  York,  they  addressed  him  as 
their  Maecenas,  their  intercessor,  their  patron,  their  spokes- 
man, and  their  special  advocate  at  Court.  A  little  later,  they 
wrote  again,  saying  that  their  hopes  depended  on  him  alone, 
and  that  they  had  resolved  to  raise  him  to  the  highest  degree 
in  Divinity.  In  a  subsequent  letter  they  spontaneously  prom- 
ised that  his  name  should  be  commemorated  by  their  public 
preachers  at  Oxford  and  in  London  alike.  When  at  last  they 
found  it  difficult  to  devise  any  new  compliments  for  the  all- 
powerful  Cardinal,  they  sought  to  gratify  his  vanity  by  ap- 
plying to  him  the  title  of  Majestas,  in  some  cases  three  or  four 
times  in  the  course  of  a  letter." 

Lyte,  History  of  the  University  of  Oxford. 
3 


34  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

and  tradition  has  connected  with  him  the  building 
of  the  graceful  tower  which  is  one  of  the  chief  arch- 
itectural ornaments  of  Oxford.  Unfortunately  the 
tower  was  finished  in  the  year  in  which  Wolsey  be- 
came bursar,  and  all  that  he  can  have  done  was  the 
prosaic  duty  of  paying  the  bills  for  its  erection. 
He  continued  his  work  of  schoolmaster  till  in  1500 
the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  whose  sons  Wolsey  had  taught, 
gave  him  the  living  of  Lymington  in  Somerset. 

So  Wolsey  abandoned  academic  life  for  the  quiet- 
ness of  a  country  living,  which,  however,  did  not 
prove  to  be  entirely  free  from  troubles.  For  some 
reason  which  is  not  clear,  a  neighboring  squire,  Sir 
Amy  as  Paulet,*  used  his  power  as  justice  of  peace 
to  set  Wolsey  in  the  stocks,  an  affront  which  Wolsey 
did  not  forgive,  but  in  the  days  of  his  power  pun- 
ished by  confining  Sir  Amyas  to  his  London  house, 
where  he  lived  for  some  years  in  disgrace.  If  this 
story  be  true,  it  is  certainly  not  to  Wolsey 's  dis- 
credit, who  can  have  been  moved  by  nothing  but  a 
sense  of  injustice  in  thus  reviving  the  remembrance 
of  his  own  past  history.  Moreover,  Wolsey 's  char- 

*  Sir  Amyas  Paulet  (died  1538)  was  brought  up  a  Lancas- 
trian. He  was  attainted  after  Buckingham's  rebellion,  but 
was  restored  in  1485.  He  held  various  offices  in  his  own 
county  of  Somerset,  and  became  one  of  the  most  prominent 
of  the  west  country  gentlemen. 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  35 

acter  certainly  did  not  suffer  at  the  time,  as  in  1501 
he  was  made  chaplain  to  Dean,*  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury.  After  Dean's  death  in  1503,  his  capa- 
city for  business  was  so  far  established  that  he  was 
employed  by  Sir  Richard  Nanfan,f  Deputy-Lieu- 
tenant of  Calais,  to  help  him  in  the  duties  of  a  post 
which  advancing  years  made  somewhat  onerous. 
When  Nanfan,  a  few  years  afterwards,  retired 
from  public  life,  he  recommended  Wolsey  to  the 
king,  and  Wolsey  entered  the  royal  service  as  chap- 
lain probably  in  1506. 

At  Court  Wolsey  allied  himself  with  Eichard 
Fox,;):  Bishop  of  Winchester,  Lord  Privy  Seal,  and 

*  Henry  Deane,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  the  close 
friend  and  councillor  of  Henry  VII.,  who  gave  him  much 
employment  in  affairs  of  state.  His  principal  success  in 
diplomacy  was  the  arrangement  of  the  marriage  of  Margaret, 
King  Henry's  daughter,  with  James  IV.  of  Scotland.  He  was 
never  installed  at  Canterbury,  probably  on  the  ground  of 
expense  ;  and  it  is  greatly  to  his  credit  that,  in  that  age  of 
ecclesiastical  luxury,  he,  the  Primate  of  England,  lived  and 
died  poor. 

f  Sir  Richard  Nanfan,  or  Nanphant,  received  many  honors 
and  emoluments  under  Henry  VII.  In  1489  he  was  sent  on  a 
mission  to  Spain  and  Portugal,  and  had  an  interview  with 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  Later  he  was  deputy  of  Calais, 
where  he  became  patron  of  Wolsey  and  made  him  known  to 
the  king.  He  died  in  1507. 

J  Richard  Fox  (1466-1528)  was  a  prominent  ecclesiastic  and 
statesman  under  Henry  VII. ,  whose  favor  and  confidence  he 
maintained  until  the  death  of  the  latter.  Previous  to  1500  he 


36  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

at  first  seems  to  have  acted  as  one  of  his  secre- 
taries. 

Fox  was  a  well-trained  and  careful  official,  who 
had  been  in  Henry  VII. 's  employment  all  through 
his  reign.  Cold  and  cautious  by  nature,  Henry 
YIL  had  to  pick  his  way  through  many  difficulties, 
and  took  no  man  unreservedly  into  his  confidence. 
He  was  his  own  minister,  and  chose  to  be  served  by 
men  of  distinguished  position  who  were  content  to 
do  his  bidding  faithfully,  and  were  free  from  per- 
sonal ambition.  For  this  purpose  ecclesiastics  were 
best  adapted,  and  Henry  YIL  did  much  to  secular- 
ize the  Church  by  throwing  the  weight  of  public 
business  into  the  hands  of  men  like  Morton  and  Fox, 
whom  he  rewarded  by  the  highest  ecclesiastical 
offices.  In  such  a  school  Wolsey  was  trained  as  a 
statesman.  He  regarded  it  as  natural  that  the  King 
should  choose  his  ministers  for  their  readiness  to 
serve  his  purposes,  and  should  reward  them  by 
ecclesiastical  preferments.  The  State  might  gain  by 
such  a  plan,  but  the  Church  undoubtedly  lost ;  and 

held  the  bishopric  of  several  sees,  and  at  that  date  he  was 
appointed  to  the  important  see  of  Winchester.  In  sympathy 
with  the  New  Learning,  he  founded  the  College  of  Corpus 
Christi,  Oxford,  with  a  chair  of  Greek  and  Latin.  As  states- 
man, he  was  Keeper  of  the  Seal,  secretary  of  state,  and  several 
times  ambassador  to  foreign  courts.  When  Henry  VIII.  be- 
came king,  Fox  was  succeeded  by  Wolsey. 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  37 

in  following  the  career  of  Wolsey  there  is  little  to 
remind  us  of  the  ecclesiastic,  however  much  we  may 
admire  the  statesman. 

It  was  well  for  England  that  Wolsey  was  trained 
in  the  traditions  of  the  policy  of  Henry  VII. ,  which 
he  never  forgot.  Henry  VII.  aimed,  in  the  first 
place,  at  securing  his  throne  and  restoring  quiet  and 
order  in  his  kingdom  by  developing  trade  and  com- 
merce. For  this  purpose  he  strove  to  turn  his  for- 
eign neighbors  into  allies  without  adventuring  into 
any  military  enterprises.  He  did  not  aspire  to 
make  England  great,  but  he  tried  to  make  her 
secure  and  prosperous.  "Wolsey  gained  so  much 
insight  into  the  means  which  he  employed  for  that 
end  that  he  never  forgot  their  utility ;  and  though 
he  tried  to  pass  beyond  the  aim  of  Henry  VII. ,  he 
preferred  to  extend  rather  than  abandon  the  means 
which  Henry  VII.  had  carefully  devised.  Nor  was 
Wolsey  merely  a  spectator  of  Henry  VII. 's  diplo- 
macy ;  he  was  soon  employed  as  one  of  its  agents. 
In  the  spring  of  1508  he  was  sent  to  Scotland  to 
keep  King  James  IV.  true  to  his  alliance  with  Eng- 
land, and  explain  misunderstandings  that  had  arisen. 
In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  he  was  sent  to 
Mechlin  to  win  over  the  powerful  minister  of  Maxi- 
milian, the  Bishop  of  Gurk,  to  a  project  of  mar- 


38  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

riage  between  Henry  VII.  and  Maximilian's  daugh- 
ter Margaret,  by  which  Henry  hoped  that  he  would 
get  control  of  the  Low  Countries.  Here  Wolsey 
learned  his  first  practical  lesson  of  diplomatic  meth- 
ods, and  uttered  the  complaint,  which  in  later  years 
he  gave  so  much  reason  to  others  to  pour  forth, 
1  i  There  is  here  so  much  inconstancy,  mutability, 
and  little  regard  of  promises  and  causes,  that  in 
their  appointments  there  is  little  trust  or  surety ;  for 
things  surely  determined  to  be  done  one  day  are 
changed  and  altered  the  next. ' ' 

Nothing  came  of  Wolsey 's  embassy,  nor  can  we 
be  sure  that  Henry  VII.  was  much  in  earnest  in  his 
marriage  schemes.  However,  he  died  in  April  next 
year,  and  was  succeeded  by  a  son  whose  matrimo- 
nial hesitations  were  destined  to  give  Wolsey  more 
trouble  than  those  of  his  father.  Before  his  death 
he  laid  the  foundation  of  Wolsey 's  clerical  fortunes 
by  bestowing  on  him  the  rich  deanery  of  Lincoln. 

The  accession  of  Henry  VIII.  made  little  change 
in  the  composition  of  the  King's  Council.  The 
Lady  Margaret  survived  her  son  long  enough  to 
make  her  influence  felt  in  the  choice  of  her  grand- 
son's advisers.  Archbishop  Warham,*  Bishop 

*  William  Warham  (1450  ?-1554)  was,  with  Erasmus,  Colet, 
and  More,  a  leader  of  the  New  Learning.  He  was  Keeper  of 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  39 

Fox,  and  Thomas  Howard,*  Earl  of  Surrey,  were 
the  men  into  whose  hands  public  business  natu- 
rally fell.  But  "Warham  was  somewhat  stiff  and 
crabbed,  so  that  he  did  not  commend  himself  to  the 
young  king.  Fox  represented  the  opinions  of  the 
old  officials,  while  the  Earl  of  Surrey  was  the 
natural  leader  of  the  old  nobility,  who  could  not 
help  resenting  the  subordinate  position  into  which 
they  had  been  reduced  by  Henry  VII. ,  and  hoped 
that  a  new  reign  would  give  them  fresh  opportuni- 
ties. So  Fox  urged  caution  and  carefulness,  while 

the  Great  Seal  from  1502  to  1515.  In  1504  he  was  raised  to 
the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury,  the  highest  ecclesiastical 
preferment  in  England. 

*  Thomas  Howard  (1473  ?-1547)  was  eminent  as  a  soldier 
and  statesman.  He  was  the  third  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  son 
of  Thomas  Howard,  the  second  Duke  of  Norfolk.  "In 
1513  he  was  chosen  high  admiral  of  England,  and,  in  co- 
operation with  his  father,  defeated  the  Scotch  at  the  battle  of 
Flodden.  For  this  service  he  was  made  Earl  of  Surrey,  while 
his  father  was  made  Duke  of  Norfolk.  In  1523  he  became 
lord  high  treasurer,  and  in  1524,  at  the  death  of  his  father, 
inherited  his  title.  His  devotion  to  the  Church  of  Rome 
made  him  hostile  to  Anne  Boleyn,  though  she  was  his 
own  niece.  After  Henry  VIII.  had  married  Catherine 
Howard,  the  Duke,  who  was  her  uncle,  had  much  influence 
in  the  royal  councils,  and  used  it  for  the  persecution  of  the 
Protestants.  In  1547  he  was  arrested  on  a  charge  of  treason, 
and  ordered  for  execution ;  but  before  the  fatal  day  came, 
the  king  died.  Norfolk  was  released  from  prison  in  1553,  and 
died  the  next  year.  His  son,  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  was  executed 
in  1547."— "Lippincott's  Pronouncing  Biographical  Dictionary. 


40  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Surrey  favored  extravagance  and  military  ambition. 
Fox  felt  that  he  was  growing  old,  and  the  pres- 
sure of  a  continued  conflict  of  opinion  was  irk- 
some to  him.  Much  as  the  ecclesiastics  of  that 
time  were  secular  in  their  lives,  they  were  rarely 
entirely  forgetful  of  their  priestly  office,  and  were 
genuinely  anxious  to  rid  themselves  of  the  burden 
of  affairs  and  spend  their  last  years  in  quiet.  So 
Fox  chose  Wolsey  as  the  man  to  take  his  place, 
perhaps  because  he  saw  in  him  the  qualities  neces- 
sary to  influence  the  young  king.  Besides  him  he 
favored  Ruthal,  another .  experienced  official,  who 
was  rewarded  by  the  rich  bishopric  of  Durham,  but 
who  was  soon  eclipsed  by  the  superior  genius  of 
Wolsey,  which  he  frankly  admitted,  and  willingly 
accepted  the  post  of  Wolsey 's  assistant  and  subordi- 
nate. 

So  Wolsey  was  made  the  king's  almoner,  and 
had  sundry  preferments  bestowed  on  him  as  marks 
of  the  royal  favor.  He  ingratiated  himself  with 
the  king,  and  worked  with  Fox  and  Kuthal  to  coun- 
teract the  influence  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey.  Prob- 
ably in  1511  he  was  called  to  the  King's  Council, 
but  neither  he  nor  Fox  had  it  in  their  power  to 
shape  the  king's  policy  as  they  wished,  or  to  direct 
his  doings.  His  warlike  ardor  was  against  their 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  41 

will;  but  from  the  beginning  of  his  reign  Henry 
VIII.  went  his  own  way,  and  others  had  to  fol- 
low. All  they  could  do  was  to  show  him  that 
they  were  the  most  capable  of  his  servants,  and 
when  Henry  VIII.  had  determined  on  war  they 
were  the  men  to  whom  he  turned  to  carry  out  the 
necessary  details.  On  Wolsey  as  the  youngest  the 
chief  labor  was  thrown.  England  was  unprepared 
for  war,  and  every  branch  of  the  military  service 
had  to  be  almost  created.  Wolsey  had  at  all  events 
a  sufficient  opportunity  for  displaying  his  practical 
capacity  as  an  organizer. 

So  Wolsey  worked  at  providing  for  the  troops 
who  were  sent  to  Guienne  in  1512;  but  the  expe- 
dition itself  was  a  complete  failure.  Ferdinand 
played  his  own  game  of  procrastination,  and  sent 
no  succors.  The  Marquis  of  Dorset  was  an  inca- 
pable leader.  The  English  troops  were  not  inured 
to  hardships,  and  soon  grew  discontented;  at  last 
they  rose  in  open  mutiny,  and  clamored  to  be  led 
back  to  England.  Dorset  was  driven  to  retire 
without  striking  a  blow.  The  first  attempt  of  Eng- 
land to  assert  her  prowess  ended  in  disaster.  The 
statesmen  of  the  Continent  made  merry  over  the 
blundering  efforts  of  an  upstart  power.  "  The 
English,"  they  said,  "are  so  unaccustomed  to  war 


4:2  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

that  they  have  no  experience  to  guide  them." 
Henry  longed  to  wipe  out  this  disgrace,  and  pre- 
pared to  invade  the  north  of  France  in  the  next 
year.  Wolsey  was  not  yet  of  sufficient  importance 
to  direct  the  king's  policy,  and  had  no  experience 
of  war.  But  he  threw  himself  heart  and  soul  into 
the  task  of  military  organization,  and  the  adminis- 
trative capacity  which  he  displayed  secured  his  hold 
on  the  king's  favor.  He  provided  for  victualling 
the  fleet,  raised  the  necessary  number  of  ships, 
selected  their  captains,  and  even  apportioned  the 
gunners.  Nothing  was  too  trivial  for  his  attention, 
even  down  to  beer-barrels  and  biscuits.  It  is  not 
surprising  that  his  colleague,  Bishop  Fox,  wrote  to 
him,  "I  pray  God  send  us  with  speed,  and  soon 
deliver  you  of  your  outrageous  charge  and  labor. ' ' 

The  fleet  put  to  sea  in  March  1513,  under  the 
command  of  the  Lord  Admiral  Sir  Edward  Howard.  * 
The  French  fleet  was  far  superior  in  numbers,  and 
prepared  to  prevent  the  English  from  landing  on 

*  Sir  Edward  Howard  (1477  ?-1513)  began  his  naval  service 
at  the  age  of  fifteen  and  rose  to  the  position  of  Lord  High 
Admiral.  "  His  death  was  felt  as  a  national  disaster,"  writes 
one.  James  IV.  of  Scotland  wrote  to  the  king  of  England  : 
— "Surely,  dearest  brother,  we  think  more  loss  is  to  you  of 
your  late  admiral,  who  deceased  to  his  great  honor  and  laud, 
than  the  advantage  might  have  been  of  the  winning  of  all  the 
French  galleys  and  their  equipage." 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  43 

the  French  coast.  Sir  Edward  Howard  was  burning 
with  desire  for  a  decisive  engagement,  and  on  25th 
April  attacked  the  French  galleys  as  they  lay  in 
shallow  water.  He  boarded  them  with  his  boats,  and 
himself  leapt  on  to  the  ship  of  the  French  admiral, 
but  before  his  men  could  follow  him  their  cable  was 
cut  away,  and  he  was  left  almost  alone.  Seeing 
that  there  was  no  hope  of  support,  he  took  his  whis- 
tle from  his  neck  and  cast  it  into  the  sea ;  then  with 
his  gilt  target  on  his  arm  he  fought  till  the  enemy's 
pikes  thrust  him  overboard  and  he  was  drowned. 
The  English  attack  was  driven  back ;  but  its  gal- 
lantry and  the  bravery  of  Sir  Edward  Howard  pro- 
duced a  great  impression.  It  was  clear  that  after 
all  the  Englishmen  had  not  forgotten  how  to  fight. 

The  efforts  of  the  English  fleet  were  successful  in 
securing  the  peaceful  landing  of  the  army  at  Calais, 
where  Henry  arrived  at  the  end  of  June.  With 
him  went  Wolsey,  commanding  two  hundred  men, 
and  now  a  necessary  personage  in  the  king's  train. 
Such  confidence  was  placed  in  him  by  Queen  Kath- 
arine that  she  requested  him  to  write  to  her  fre- 
quently and  inform  her  of  the  king's  health,  while  in 
return  she  poured  her  household  troubles  into  his 
sympathetic  ear.  No  doubt  Wolsey's  hands  were 
full  of  business  of  many  kinds  during  this  brief  and 


44  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

glorious  campaign,  glorious  in  the  sense  that  suc- 
cess attended  its  operations,  but  fruitless  because 
the  things  done  were  scarcely  worth  the  doing. 
The  English  army  took  Terouenne,  more  owing  to 
the  feebleness  of  the  French  than  to  their  own 
valor.  Louis  XII.  was  prematurely  old  and  ailing ; 
things  had  gone  against  him  in  Italy,  and  there  was 
little  spirit  in  the  French  army. 

The 'defeat  of  the  French  outside  Terouenne  was 
so  rapid  that  the  battle  was  derisively  called  the 
Battle  of  Spurs.  Henry's  desire  for  martial  glory 
was  satisfied  by  the  surrender  of  Terouenne,  and  his 
vanity  was  gratified  by  the  presence  of  Maximilian, 
who  in  return  for  a  large  subsidy  brought  a  few 
German  soldiers,  and  professed  to  serve  under  the 
English  king.  From  Terouenne  he  advanced  to 
Tournai,  which  surrendered  at  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber. Maximilian  was  delighted  at  these  conquests, 
of  which  he  reaped  all  the  benefits ;  with  Tournai 
in  the  hands  of  England,  Flanders  had  a  strong  pro- 
tection against  France.  So  Maximilian  would 
gladly  have  led  Henry  to  continue  the  campaign  in 
the  interests  of  the  Flemish  frontier.  But  Henry 
had  no  taste  for  spending  a  winter  in  the  field ;  he 
pleaded  that  his  presence  was  needed  in  England, 
and  departed,  promising  to  return  next  year. 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  45 

In  truth  the  arms  of  England  had  won  a  greater 
victory  on  English  ground  than  anything  they  had 
achieved  abroad.  The  war  against  France  awak- 
ened the  old  hostility  of  Scotland,  and  no  sooner 
was  Henry  YIIL  encamped  before  Terouenne  than 
he  received  a  Scottish  herald  bringing  a  message  of 
defiance.  u  I  do  not  believe  that  my  brother  of 
Scotland  will  break  his  oath, ' '  said  Henry,  ' i  but  if 
he  does,  he  will  live  to  repent  it."  Kepentance 
came  rapidly  on  the  Field  of  Flodden,*  where  the 

*"Tke  Earl  of  Surrey  .  .  .  setup  the  standard  of  St. 
George  at  Newcastle ;  and  with  a  numerous  force  marched 
on  to  Alnwick,  which  he  reached  on  the  3d  of  September. 
According  to  the  practice  of  chivalry  Surrey  offered  battle 
to  James,  on  the  following  Friday,  in  a  message  which  he 
sent  by  a  pursuivant -at-arms.  The  king  of  Scotland  cour- 
teously accepted  the  challenge.  To  an  insolent  defiance  from 
Lord  Thomas  Howard,  that  he  had  come  to  justify  the  death 
of  Andrew  Barton,  and  would  neither  give  nor  receive 
quarter,  the  king  returned  no  answer.  *  The  king  lay  upon 
the  side  of  a  high  mountain  called  Flodden,  on  the  edge  of 
Cheviot,  where  was  but  one  narrow  field  for  any  man  to 
ascend  up  the  said  hill  to  him,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  lay 
all  his  ordnance.  On  the  one  side  of  his  army  was  a  great 
marish,  and  compassed  with  the  hills  of  Cheviot,  so  that  he  lay 
too  strong  to  be  approached  of  any  side,  except  that  the  Eng- 
lish would  have  temerariously  run  on  his  ordnance.'  James 
was  rash  ;  but  he  kept  his  strong  position,  in  spite  of  a  taunt- 
ing message  from  Surrey  to  take  up  a  ground  where  the 
battle  might  be  fairly  tried.  The  English  commander  was  an 
experienced  soldier ;  and  he  showed  his  knowledge  of 
strategy  by  an  unexpected  and  masterly  movement.  The 
Till,  a  branch  of  the  Tweed,  lay  between  the  two  armies. 


46  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY.  \ 

Scottish  army  was  almost  cut  to  pieces.  This  bril- 
liant victory  was  greatly  due  to  the  energy  of  Queen 
Katharine,  who  wrote  to  Wolsey,  "My  heart  is 

Surrey  had  crossed  the  river  on  the  8th  of  September,  at  a 
distant  point  from  Flodden  by  which  manoeuvre  he  deceived 
James  as  to  his  real  intentions ;  but  on  the  morning  of  the 
9th  with  his  van  and  cannon,  he  suddenly  re-crossed  it  at 
Twissel-bridge,  near  the  junction  of  the  Till  with  the  Tweed, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  army  passed  a  ford.  Surrey  was 
now  in  a  position  in  which  he  could  cut  off  the  communica- 
tion of  James  with  his  supplies  from  Scotland.  The  English 
were  marching  rapidly  to  secure  the  eminence  of  Branksome, 
when  the  Scots  descended  the  heights  of  Flodden  to  seize  this 
position,  setting  fire  to  their  tents.  The  king,  who  had  made 
no  attempt  to  prevent  the  English  crossing  the  Till,  had  now 
"  his  enemies  before  him  on  a  plain  field,"  as  his  wish  is 
declared  to  have  been.  The  battle  began  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  9th  of  September. 

"  The  English  line  stretched  east  and  west, 
And  southward  were  their  faces  set ; 

The  Scottish  northward  proudly  prest, 
And  manfully  their  foes  they  met." 

Each  of  the  sons  of  Surrey  commanded  a  division  of  the 
right  wing  ;  Surrey  himself  was  in  the  centre ;  Sir  Edward 
Stanley  headed  the  left  wing.  The  Scottish  earls  Huntley 
and  Home,  who  commanded  their  left  wing,  attacked  the 
Howards  with  a  vigor  that  might  have  decided  the  battle, 
had  not  Lord  Dacre  come  to  their  aid  with  the  reserve  of 
horse.  The  Scottish  right  wing,  which  consisted  chiefly  of 
Highlanders,  was  unable  to  stand  up  against  the  archers  of 
Lancashire.  James  and  Surrey  met  in  close  conflict  in  the 
the  centres  of  their  armies.  Never  was  king,  in  the  extremity 
of  danger,  surrounded  by  more  gallant  supporters.  But 
though  he  and  his  knights  were  struggling  in  no  unequal 
Strife  with  Surrey,  whose  standard  was  nearly  won,  the  rapid 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  47 

very  good  to  it,  and  I  am  horribly  busy  with  mak- 
ing standards,  banners,  and  badges. ' '  She  ad- 
dressed the  English  leaders  before  they  started  for 
the  war,  bade  them  remember  that  the  English 
courage  excelled  that  of  other  nations,  and  that  the 
Lord  smiled  on  those  who  stood  in  defence  of  their 
own.  With  a  proud  heart  she  sent  her  husband  the 
blood-stained  plaid  of  the  Scottish  king,  taken  from 
his  corpse.  "  In  this,"  she  wrote,  "  your  Grace 
shall  see  how  I  keep  my  promise,  sending  you  for 
your  banner  a  king's  coat." 

The  victory  of  Flodden  Field  was  of  great  im- 
portance, for  it  delivered  England  from  the  fear  of 
a  troublesome  neighbor,  and  showed  Europe  that 
England  could  not  be  muzzled  by  the  need  of  care 

triumph  of  Stanley  over  the  right  wing  enabled  him  to  at- 
tack the  Scottish  centre  in  the  rear.  James  fell  within  a 
lance's  length  of  Surrey.  None  of  his  division  were  made 
prisoners.  They  all  perished  with  their  king.  As  night 
came  on  Surrey  drew  back  his  men.  Before  the  dawn  the 
Scots  had  left  the  field.  The  loss  of  the  Scottish  army  has 
been  computed  at  ten  thousand  men  ;  that  of  the  English  at 
about  seven  thousand.  '  Scarce  a  family  of  eminence  but  has 
an  ancestor  killed  at  Flodden,'  says  Scott.  In  the  words  of 
the  ballad,— 

'The  flowers  of  the  forest  were  a'  wede  away.' " 

Knight,  History  of  England. 

The  English  forces  engaged  in  this  battle  numbered  about 
32,000  ;  the  Scottish  forces  were  about  30,000, 


48  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

for  her  own  borders.  The  Scottish  power  was 
broken  for  many  years  to  come,  and  England  was 
free  to  act  as  she  would.  Europe  began  to  respect 
the  power  of  England,  though  there  was  little 
reason  to  rate  highly  the  wisdom  of  her  king. 
Henry  had  won  little  by  his  campaign;  he  had 
gratified  his  vanity,  but  he  had  not  advanced  to- 
wards any  definite  end. 

Henry  YIII.  was  young  and  simple.  He  ex- 
pected to  captivate  the  world  by  brilliant  deeds,  and 
fascinate  it  by  unselfish  exploits.  He  soon  found 
that  his  pretended  allies  were  only  seeking  their  own 
advantage.  The  name  of  the  ' c  Holy  League ' '  was 
the  merest  pretext.  The  new  Pope,  Leo  X. ,  *  a  sup- 
ple time-serving  intriguer,  trained  in  the  deceitful 

*Pope  Leo  X.  was  Giovanni  de'  Medici  (1475-1521),  son  of 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici  (Lorenzo  the  Magnificent)  of  Florence. 
He  ascended  the  papal  chair  in  1513  upon  the  death  of  Julius 
II.  He  continued  the  policy  of  his  predecessor  in  patronizing 
literature  and  the  fine  arts,  but  his  patronage  was  on  a  scale 
of  unparalleled  munificence.  Raphael,  Michaelangelo,  and  the 
galaxy  of  artists  by  which  they  were  surrounded,  were  en- 
couraged to  prosecute  the  work  they  had  already  begun  under 
the  patronage  of  Julius  II.  The  university  of  Rome  was  re- 
stored with  its  one  hundred  salaried  professors,  and  a  Greek 
college  was  founded  in  the  same  city.  His  luxury  and  munifi- 
cence demanded  a  larger  revenue  than  the  Church  provided, 
and  to  meet  this  demand  he  sold  indulgences  in  great  numbers 
all  over  Europe.  This  indiscriminate  sale  of  indulgences 
shocked  the  moral  consciousness  of  large  numbers  of  people, 
and  was  the  direct  cause  that  led  to  the  Reformation. 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  49 

policy  of  the  Medici  House,  was  willing  to  patch  up 
the  quarrel  between  France  and  the  Papacy.  Fer- 
dinand of  Spain  wished  only  to  keep  things  as  they 
were.  As  he  grew  older  he  grew  more  suspicious, 
and  clung  to  the  power  which  he  possessed.  His 
one  dread  was  lest  Charles,  the  grandson  of  himself 
and  Maximilian,  should  demand  his  maternal  heri- 
tage of  Castile.  Ferdinand  was  resolved  to  keep  the 
two  Spanish  kingdoms  united  under  his  own  rule  un- 
til his  death,  and  considered  European  affairs  in  the 
first  instance  as  they  were  likely  to  affect  that  issue. 
He  was  of  opinion  that  France  was  no  longer  formi- 
dable to  Spanish  interests  in  Italy,  while  English 
successes  on  the  Flemish  frontier  might  make  Charles 
more  powerful  than  he  wished  him  to  be.  Accord- 
ingly he  set  to  work  to  undermine  Henry's  position 
by  making  an  alliance  with  France.  He  was  still 
Henry's  ally  and  had  promised  him  to  help  him  to 
continue  the  Avar  in  the  spring  of  1514.  None  the 
less  he  entered  into  secret  negotiations  with  France, 
and  cautiously  endeavored  to  persuade  Maximilian  to 
join  him.  Maximilian  was  still  at  war  with  Venice, 
and  was  aggrieved  that  he  was  the  only  member  of  the 
plundering  gang  who  had  not  gained  by  the  League  of 
Cambrai.  Ferdinand  allured  him  from  his  interest 
in  Flanders  by  the  prospect  of  a  renewal  of  the  League 
4 


50  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

against  Venice  in  his  special  behalf,  and  Maximilian 
was  sanguine  enough  to  listen  to  the  temptation.  He 
faintly  stipulated  that  the  consent  of  England  should 
be  obtained,  but  was  satisfied  with  Ferdinand's  as- 
surance that  Henry  would  have  no  objection  to  a 
truce  with  France.  Early  in  April  1514  a  truce  for 
a  year  was  made  between  Louis  XII. ,  Maximilian, 
and  Ferdinand.  Henry  found  himself  tricked  by 
his  father-in-law,  and  abandoned  by  the  ally  whom  he 
had  largely  subsidized,  and  had  greatly  benefited. 

It  is  no  wonder  that  Henry  was  greatly  angered  at 
this  result,  and  declared  that  he  would  trust  no  man 
any  more.  He  had  taken  the  measure  of  the  good 
faith  of  European  rulers,  and  had  learned  the  futility 
of  great  undertakings  for  the  general  welfare.  In 
truth,  the  difficulty  of  European  politics  always  lies 
in  the  fact  that  the  general  welfare  can  only  be  pro- 
moted by  the  furtherance  of  particular  interests, 
which  threaten  in  their  turn  to  become  dangerous. 
The  interests  of  the  sixteenth  century  were  purely 
dynastic  interests,  and  seem  trivial  and  unworthy. 
"We  are  not,  however,  justified  in  inferring  that  dy- 
nastic interests,  because  they  are  concerned  with 
small  arrangements,  are  in  their  nature  more  selfish 
or  more  iniquitous  than  interests  which  clothe  them- 
selves in  more  fair-sounding  phrases.  Their  selfish- 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  51 

ness  is  more  apparent ;  it  does  not  follow  that  it  is 
less  profound. 

However  that  may  be,  the  desertion  of  Maximilian 
and  Ferdinand  put  a  stop  to  Henry's  warlike  pro- 
jects, and  restored  England  to  peace.  Henry  had 
had  enough  of  fighting  other  people's  battles.  He 
was  willing  to  pursue  his  own  course  by  the  means 
which  others  used,  and  trust  henceforth  to  the  blood- 
less battles  of  diplomacy.  In  this  new  field  Wolsey 
was  the  English  champion,  and  for  the  next  sixteen 
years  the  history  of  England  is  the  history  of  Wol- 
sey's  achievements. 

"Wolsey's  services  in  the  campaign  of  1513  gave 
him  a  firm  hold  of  the  king's  favor,  and  secured 
for  him  large  rewards.  As  he  was  an  ecclesiastic 
his  salary  was  paid  out  of  the  revenues  of  the 
Church.  "When  Tournai  became  an  English  posses- 
sion its  bishopric  was  conferred  on  Wolsey  and  on  a 
vacancy  in  the  bishopric  of  Lincoln  in  the  beginning 
of  1514  that  see  was  given  him  in  addition.  How 
the  officers  of  the  Church  were  in  those  days  used 
as  rewards  for  service  to  the  State  may  be  seen 
by  the  fact  that  the  English  representative  in  Rome 
was  the  Archbishop  of  York,  Thomas  Bainbridge, 
who  lived  as  Cardinal  in  the  Papal  Court.  More- 
over, an  Italian,  Silvestro  de'  Gigli,  held  the  bish- 


52  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

opric  of  "Worcester,  though  he  lived  habitually  in 
Eome,  and  devoted  his  energies  to  the  furtherance 
of  the  interests  of  England.  In  July  1514  Cardinal 
Bainbridge  died  in  Koine,  poisoned  by  one  of  his 
servants.  The  Bishop  of  Worcester  was  suspected 
of  being  privy  to  the  deed  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
moving out  of  the  way  a  troublesome  rival.  It 
would  seem,  .however,  that  the  murder  was  prompted 
by  vengeful  feelings  and  the  desire  to  hide  pecula- 
tions. The  Pope  investigated  the  charge  against  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester,  and  he  was  acquitted;  but 
the  story  gives  a  poor  picture  of  morality  and  secu- 
rity of  life  at  Eome.  On  the  death  of  Bainbridge 
the  vacant  archbishopric  of  York  was  also  con- 
ferred on  Wolsey,  who  was  now  enriched  by  the 
revenues  of  three  sees,  and  was  clearly  marked  out 
as  the  foremost  man  in  England. 

He  rose  to  this  position  solely  by  the  king's 
favor,  as  the  king  alone  chose  his  own  ministers  and 
counsellors,  and  there  existed  no  external  pressure 
which  could  influence  his  decisions.  The  Wars  of 
the  Roses  had  seen  the  downfall  of  the  baronial 
power,  and  Henry  VII.  had  accustomed  men  to 
see  affairs  managed  almost  entirely  by  a  new  class 
of  officials.  The  ministers  and  counsellors  of  Henry 
VIII.  were  chosen  from  a  desire  to  balance  the 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  53 

old  and  the  new  system.  The  remnants  of  the 
baronial  party  were  associated  with  officials,  that 
they  might  be  assimilated  into  the  same  class.  The 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  as  the  greatest  nobleman  in  Eng- 
land, was  powerful,  and  was  jealous  of  the  men 
with  whom  he  found  himself  called  upon  to  work. 
Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  was  the  per- 
sonal friend  of  the  king,  and  shared  in  his  private 
more  than  in  his  public  life.  The  Earl  of  Surrey 
had  done  good  service  at  Flodden  Field,  and  was  a 
man  of  practical  capacity.  The  other  ministers 
were  most  of  them  ecclesiastics.  Warham,  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  was  respected  rather  than 
trusted.  Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  was  a  capa- 
ble and  painstaking  official.  Kuthal,*  Bishop  of 
Durham,  was  destitute  of  real  insight,  and  was 
content  to  follow  Wolsey's  lead.  Wolsey  won  his 

*  Thomas  Ruthall,  or  Rowthall,  bishop  of  Durham,  was 
educated  at  Oxford  but  received  his  degree  of  D.D.  at  Cam- 
bridge. He  was  a  trusted  servant  of  Henry  VII.,  from  whom 
he  received  a  large  number  of  ecclesiastical  preferments. 
When  Buckingham  was  examined  by  Henry  VIII. ,  in  1521, 
Ruthall  was  present  as  secretary.  A  story  is  told  of  him,  that, 
being  asked  to  make  up  an  account  of  the  kingdom,  he  did 
so  ;  but  accidentally  he  gave  in  to  the  king  another  account 
treating  of  his  own  property,  which  was  very  large.  His 
chagrin  over  this  blunder  brought  on  an  illness.  The  bishop 
was  interested  in  architecture  and  education,  and  he  furthered 
by  personal  effort  both  causes.  From  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography, 


54  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

way  by  his  political  genius,  his  quickness,  and  his 
vast  power  of  detailed  work.  He  owed  his  posi- 
tion entirely  to  the  king,  and  was  responsible  to 
him  alone.  The  king  consulted  his  Council  only 
about  such  matters  as  he  thought  fit ;  foreign  affairs 
were  managed  almost  entirely  according  to  his  own 
will  and  pleasure. 

The  English  have  never  been  famous  for  diplomacy, 
and  Wolsey  was  ill  supplied  with  agents  for  his  work. 
The  English  residents  at  foreign  Courts  were  not 
men  of  mark  or  position.  John  Stile  at  the  Court 
of  Ferdinand,  and  Thomas  Spinelly  in  Flanders 
seem  to  have  been  merchants  carrying  on  their  own 
business.  "With  Maximilian  was  a  more  important 
man,  Sir  Eichard  Wingfield,*  a  Suffolk  knight,  who 
was  too  self-satisfied  and  too  dull-witted  to  under- 
stand Wolsey 's  schemes.  For  special  work  special 
agents  had  to  be  sent,  who  went  unwillingly  to  a 
thankless  and  laborious  task.  They  were  ill  paid 

*  Sir  Richard  Wingfield  (1469  ?— 1525)  was  a  soldier,  states- 
man, and  scholar  of  eminence  in  his  day.  He  served  his 
country  as  ambassador  on  many  occasions.  In  1524  he  was 
appointed  high  steward  of  the  university  of  Cambridge.  Sir 
Thomas  More  had  received  from  the  university  the  promise  of 
this  position,  but  at  the  request  of  the  king  he  withdrew  in 
favor  of  Wingaeld.  In  1525  Wingfield  was  sent  by  Henry 
VIII.,  on  an  important  mission  to  Spain,  and  he  died  in  the 
city  of  Toledo  July  22  of  that  year. 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  55 

and  ill  supported ;  but  even  here  Wolsey  knew  how 
to  choose  the  right  men,  and  he  managed  to  inspire 
them  with  his  own  zeal  and  tenacity  of  purpose.  It 
is  a  striking  proof  of  Wolsey 's  genius  that  he  knew 
whom  he  could  trust,  and  that  his  trust  was  never 
misplaced. 

When  Henry  VIII.  was  smarting  under  his  rebuff 
from  Maximilian  and  Ferdinand,  he  concerted  with 
Wolsey  how  he  might  avenge  himself,  and  Wolsey 
devised  his  scheme  in  entire  secrecy.  Ferdinand 
and  Maximilian  had  left  England  in  the  lurch  by 
making  a  truce  with  France.  Wolsey  resolved  to 
outdo  them  in  their  own  lines.  They  had  elected 
to  maintain  the  existing  condition  of  affairs  by 
checking  England's  aspirations  and  lending  a  cold 
support  to  France.  Wolsey  resolved  to  turn  France 
into  a  firm  ally,  that  so  England  and  France  united 
might  form  a  new  combination,  before  which  the 
schemes  of  Ferdinand  would  be  powerless. 

Wolsey  luckily  had  the  means  of  approaching 
Louis  XII.  without  attracting  attention.  Amongst 
the  prisoners  taken  in  the  Battle  of  the  Spurs  *  was 

*  There  were  two  battles  that  are  known  as  Battles  of  the 
Spurs.  The  one  here  referred  to  was  the  second  and  less  im- 
portant one.  It  was  fought  near  Guinegate  in  1513,  and  the 
result  was  an  easy  victory  of  the  English  over  the  French. 
It  is  said  to  have  taken  its  name  from  the  precipitate  flight  of 


56  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

the  young  Duke  of  Longueville,  a  favorite  of  the 
French  king.  He  had  been  sent  to  London,  to  the 
sore  disturbance  of  Queen  Katharine,  who,  being  a 
sensible  woman,  thought  that  the  best  thing  to  do 
with  a  prisoner  was  to  confine  him  in  the  Tower. 
On  Henry's  return  the  Duke  of  Longueville  was 
released,  and  amused  himself  at  Court  like  any  one 
else.  Through  him  Wolsey  opened  up  secret  com- 
munications with  Louis  XII. ,  whose  domestic  cir- 
cumstances luckily  gave  a  handle  for  "Wolsey's  de- 
signs. In  January,  1514,  the  French  queen  died; 
and  although  the  widowed  husband  had  reached  the 
age  of  fifty -two,  it  was  known  that  he  was  looking 
out  for  a  young  bride. 

It  has  always  been  one  of  the  most  revolting 
features  of  dynastic  politics  that  the  private  relation- 
ships of  members  of  ruling  families  have  been 
entirely  determined  by  considerations  of  dynastic 
expediency.  In  the  sixteenth  century  this  was  emi- 
nently the  case.  Alliances  were  family  arrange- 
ments, and  corresponded  to  motives  of  family  ag- 
grandizement rather  than  to  national  interests. 
They  were  sealed  by  marriages,  they  were  broken 
by  divorces.  So  great  were  the  responsibilities  of 

the  French  :  that  is,  their  chief  weapon  of  defence  was  their 
spurs,  or  the  fleetness  of  their  horses. 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  57 

royalty  that  the  private  life  of  members  of  royal 
houses  was  entirely  sunk  in  their  official  position. 
They  were  mere  counters  to  be  moved  about  the 
board  at  will,  and  disposed  of  according  to  the  needs 
of  family  politics.  Such  a  victim  of  circumstances 
was  Henry  VIII.  's  younger  sister,  the  Princess 
Mary,  a  bright  and  intelligent  girl  of  seventeen. 
She  was  betrothed  to  Charles,  Prince  of  Castile,  and 
it  had  been  arranged  that  the  marriage  should  take 
place  when  he  reached  the  age  of  fourteen.  The 
time  was  come  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise ; 
but  Ferdinand  did  not  wish  to  see  his  troublesome 
grandson  more  closely  united  to  England,  which  had 
shown  such  ambitious  inclinations.  Maximilian,  the 
guardian  of  Charles,  wavered  between  his  desire  to 
please  Henry  and  Ferdinand,  and  invented  one  ex- 
cuse after  another  for  not  proceeding  with  his  grand- 
son's  marriage. 

Wolsey  allowed  Maximilian  to  go  on  with  his 
shifty  talk,  and  was  only  too  glad  to  see  him  fall 
into  the  trap.  His  negotiations  with  France  were 
progressing,  and  the  outward  sign  of  the  new  alli- 
ance was  to  be  the  marriage  of  Mary  to  Louis  XII. 
So  secretly  were  the  arrangements  made  that  Europe 
was  taken  by  surprise  when,  at  the  end  of  July,  it 
was  gradually  known  that  the  alliance  between 


58  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

France  and  England  was  an  accomplished  fact. 
The  marriage  contract  was  soon  signed,  and  in  Oc- 
tober Mary  went  to  Abbeville,*  where  she  was  met 
by  her  elderly  husband. 

The  result  of  this  clever  diplomacy  was  to  secure 
England  the  respect  and  envy  of  Europe.  It  was 
clear  that  henceforth  England  was  a  power  which 
had  to  be  reckoned  with.  Ferdinand  was  taught 
that  he  could  no  longer  count  on  using  his  dutiful 
son-in-law  as  he  thought  most  convenient  to  him- 
self. Maximilian  sadly  reflected  that  if  he  needed 
English  gold  in  the  future  he  must  show  a  little 
more  dexterity  in  his  game  of  playing  fast  and  loose 
with  everybody.  Pope  Leo  X.  was  not  over- 
pleased  at  seeing  England  develop  a  policy  of  her 

*  Mary  of  France  (1496-1533)  was  the  daughter  of  Henry 
VII.,  and  Elizabeth  of  York,  and  sister  of  Henry  VIII. 
She  consented  to  wed  the  elderly  and  infirm  Louis  XII.  of 
France,  upon  the  promise  that  if  she  survived  him  she  should 
have  her  own  choice  the  next  time.  The  period  of  her 
married  life  was  less  than  three  months :  her  wedding  oc- 
curred October  9,  1514,  and  Louis  died  on  January  1,  1515. 
She  afterwards  married  Charles  Brandon,  duke  of  Suffolk, 
and  by  this  marriage  she  was  the  mother  of  Frances,  who  was 
the  mother  of  the  ill-fated  Lady  Jane  Grey. 

The  town  of  Abbeville,  at  which  the  marriage  of  Louis  XII. 
and  Mary  was  celebrated,  is  situated  near  the  coast  of  the 
English  Channel,  about  half  way  between  Boulogne  and 
Dieppe.  It  was  one  of  the  gathering  places  of  the  crusades. 
The  gorgeous  church  of  St.  Walfram  was  then  in  process  of 
erection,  having  been  begun  in  1488  by  Louis  XII, 


THE  FRENCH  ALLIANCE.  59 

own,  and  looked  coldly  on  Wolsey.  After  the 
death  of  Cardinal  Bainbridge  Henry  wrote  to  the 
Pope  and  begged  him  to  make  Wolsey  cardinal  in 
his  room.  "  Such  are  his  merits,"  said  the  king, 
"that  I  esteem  him  above  my  dearest  friends,  and 
can  do  nothing  of  importance  without  him. ' '  Leo 
X.  coldly  replied  that  there  were  great  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  creating  a  cardinal :  the  title,  he  re- 
minded the  king,  was  much  sought  after,  and  ad- 
mitted its  bearer  to  the  highest  rank :  he  must  wait 
a  more  suitable  time.  It  would  seem  that  the  Pope 
wished  to  have  further  guarantees  of  England's 
good-will,  and  hinted  that  Wolsey  must  give 
pledges  of  his  good  behavior. 

England  did  not  long  enjoy  the  diplomatic  vic- 
tory which  Wolsey  had  won  by  his  brilliant  scheme 
of  a  French  alliance.  Henry  still  had  a  longing  for 
military  glory,  with  which  Wolsey  had  little  sym- 
pathy. He  wished  to  revenge  himself  on  his  per- 
fidious father-in-law,  and  proposed  to  Louis  XII.  an 
attack  upon  Navarre,  and  even  thought  of  claiming 
a  portion  of  the  kingdom  of  Castile,  as  rightfully 
belonging  to  Queen  Katharine.  Whatever  projects 
Henry  may  have  had  came  to  an  end  on  the  death 
of  Louis  on  the  1st  of  January  1515.  The  elderly 
bridegroom,  it  was  said,  tried  too  well  to  humor 


60  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

the  social  disposition  of  his  sprightly  bride.  He 
changed  his  manner  of  life,  and  kept  late  hours,  till 
his  health  entirely  gave  way,  and  he  sank  under 
his  well-meant  efforts  to  renew  the  gallantry  of 
youth. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE. 
1515-1518. 

THE  death  of  Louis  XII.  was  a  severe  blow  to 
Wolsey.  The  French  alliance  was  not  popular  in 
England,  and  was  bitterly  opposed  by  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  and  the  party  of  the  old  nobility,  who  saw 
with  dislike  the  growing  influence  of  Wolsey. 
They  now  had  an  opportunity  of  reversing  his  policy 
and  securing  his  downfall.  It  required  all  Wolsey 's 
sagacity  to  devise  a  means  of  solving  the  difficulties 
Avhich  the  death  of  Louis  created.  The  new  king 
of  France,  Francis  I.,*  was  aged  twenty-one,  and 

*  Francis  I.  (1494-1547)  succeeded  Louis  XII.,  who  was  his 
uncle  and  his  father-in-law,  as  king  of  France  January  1, 
1515.  His  reign  was  marked  by  wars  in  Italy  which,  in 
spite  of  some  brilliant  successes,  left  his  power  on  the 
whole  weaker  at  the  end  than  when  be  began.  "  Super- 
ficially a  man  of  brilliant  parts,  Francis  had  in  reality  at  bot- 
tom a  frivolous,  changeable,  licentious  nature.  Nevertheless 
he  greatly  fostered  learning  and  art,  inviting  painters  and 
scholars  to  his  kingdom,  founding  libraries,  opening  schools, 
and  building  several  of  the  finest  palaces  in  France  ;  but  his 

61 


62  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

was  as  ambitious  of  distinction  as  was  Henry.  The 
treaty  between  France  and  England  had  not  yet 
been  carried  out,  and  it  would  require  much  dexter- 
ity to  modify  its  provisions.  The  kings  of  the  six- 
teenth century  were  keen  men  of  business,  and 
never  let  money  slip  through  their  hands.  The 
widowed  Queen  of  France  must,  of  course,  return 
to  England,  but  there  were  all  sorts  of  questions 
about  her  dowry  and  the  jewels  which  Louis  had 
given  her.  Henry  claimed  that  she  should  bring 
back  with  her  everything  to  which  any  title  could 
be  urged :  Francis  I.  wished  to  give  up  as  little  as 
possible.  The  two  monarchs  haggled  like  two 
hucksters,  and  neither  of  them  had  any  care  of  the 
happiness  or  reputation  of  the  young  girl  round 
whom  they  bickered.  In  the  background  stood 
Wolsey's  enemies,  who  saw  that  if  they  could  create 
a  rupture  between  France  and  England  Wolsey's 
influence  would  be  at  an  end. 

In  these  dangerous  conditions  Wolsey  had  to  seek 
an  ally  in  Charles  Brandon,*  Duke  of  Suffolk,  and 

persecution  of  the  Vaudois  [or  Waldenses]  and  other  Protes- 
tant sects  has  left  a  dark  stain  on  his  memory  which  all  his 
patronage  of  artists  and  men  of  letters  will  not  efface." 

*  Charles  Brandon,  the  date  of  whose  birth  is  not  even  ap- 
proximately known,  was  the  bearer  of  the  standard  of  Henry 
VII.  on  the  field  of  Bosworth  in  1485.  He  was  a  great  favorite 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEAC&  63 

had  to  trust  to  his  private  knowledge  of  the  char- 
acter of  Queen  Mary.  She  had  the  strong  will  of 
the  Tudors,  and  had  also  their  craving  for  admira- 
tion. These  two  qualities  seem  to  have  drawn  her 
in  opposite  directions.  While  her  marriage  with 
Prince  Charles  was  talked  of  she  professed  the  great- 
est admiration  for  him,  and  gazed  with  rapture  on 
a  very  bad  portrait  of  her  intended  husband.  But 
this  did  not  prevent  her  from  being  attracted  by 
the  personal  fascinations  of  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  as 
"Wolsey  knew.  When  he  negotiated  the  French 
alliance  he  had  some  difficulty  in  overcoming  Mary's 
repugnance  to  an  old  husband ;  but  she  viewed  the 
proposal  in  a  business-like  way,  and  was  not  indif- 
ferent to  the  position  of  Queen  of  France.  She 
looked  forward  to  a  speedy  widowhood,  and  ex- 
tracted from  Henry  a  promise  that,  if  she  under- 
took to  marry  for  the  first  time  to  please  him,  she 
might  choose  her  second  husband  to  please  herself. 
When  Mary  was  free  the  hopes  of  the  Duke  of  Suf- 
folk revived,  and  Wolsey  knowing  this,  chose  him 

of  Henry  VIII.  who  created  him  Duke  of  Suffolk  in  1514.  He 
was  employed  on  many  diplomatic  missions,  and  commanded 
the  armies  that  invaded  France  in  the  years  1523  and  1544. 
He  died  at  Guildford,  England,  in  1545,  and  although  he  ex- 
pressed in  his  will  the  desire  to  be  buried  at  Tattershall, 
Lincolnshire,  the  king  did  him  the  honor  of  causing  him  to 
be  buried  at  Windsor  at  his  own  charge. 


64  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

as  the  best  instrument  for  clearing  away  the  diffi- 
culties raised  by  Francis  L,  and  bringing  back  Mary 
honorably  to  England. 

Francis,  on  his  side,  used  his  knowledge  of  the 
current  rumor  to  extract  from  Mary  her  confidences 
about  Suffolk,  and  with  this  knowledge  approached 
Suffolk  as  a  friend.  By  alternately  encouraging 
Suffolk  and  terrifying  Mary  he  turned  Wolsey 's 
ambassador  into  an  anxious  lover.  Still  Wolsey 
trusted  that  Suffolk  would  the  more  bestir  himself 
to  bring  Mary  back,  and  would  make  such  terms 
with  Francis  as  would  commend  his  suit  to  Henry. 
But  Wolsey 's  enemies  led  Henry  to  make  exorbi- 
tant demands,  which  Francis  met  by  redoubling  his 
persecution  of  Mary.  At  last  she  asked  Suffolk  to 
marry  her,  which  he  did  in  secret.  After  this 
Francis  was  free  from  any  further  need  of  concilia- 
ting Henry,  who  must  take  back  his  sister  on  any 
terms,  and  Wolsey  was  left  to  appease  Henry  as 
best  he  could.  In  April  Mary  and  Suffolk  returned 
to  England,  and  in  May  the  luckless  pair  were  pub- 
licly married.  Wolsey  manfully  befriended  Suffolk 
in  this  matter,  but  the  calculations  of  his  diplomacy 
were  hopelessly  upset  by  private  feelings  and  the 
rashness  of  passion. 

However,  Mary  received  part  of  her  dowry  and 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  65 

some  of  her  jewels.  Francis  I.  had  no  wish  to 
quarrel  with  England,  but  only  to  make  the  best 
terms  for  himself.  He  was  bent  upon  gathering 
laurels  in  Italy,  and  on  5th  April  renewed  the  alli- 
ance between  France  and  England.  This  time, 
however,  the  treaty  was  little  more  than  a  truce, 
and  many  questions  were  left  untouched ;  no  men- 
tion was  made  of  the  return  of  Tournai,  and  the 
question  of  Mary's  jewels  was  left  undecided. 
Francis  I.  counted  on  keeping  England  quiet  by  an 
alliance  which  he  formed  at  the  same  time  with 
Ferdinand,  while  he  won  over  the  Flemish  counsel- 
lors of  Prince  Charles,  who  betrothed  himself  to  the 
infant  daughter  of  Louis  XII. ,  Eenee,  a  child  of  four. 
Thus  he  had  cleared  the  way  for  an  expedition  to 
Italy,  where  he  longed  to  claim  for  France  the 
Duchy  of  Milan,  that  had  been  won  and  lost  by 
Louis  XII.  In  July  he  set  out  contentedly,  know- 
ing that  Henry  was  powerless  to  interfere.  He 
treated  England  with  neglect,  and  gave  Henry  no 
information  of  his  movements.  England  looked  on 
with  growing  jealousy  while  Francis  crossed  the 
Alps  and  in  September  defeated  the  Swiss  merce- 
naries who  held  Milan  in  the  name  of  the  lastSforza 
Duke.  The  battle  of  Marignano  *  (14th  Septem- 

*  Marignano,  now  called  Melegnano,  is  situated  nine  miles 

5 


66  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ber)  was  a  splendid  success  for  Francis,  who  there 
beat  back  the  Swiss  infantry,  hitherto  considered 
invincible  in  Europe.  The  star  of  France  had  risen, 

south-east  of  Milan,  Italy.  It  was  about  noon  of  the  13th  of 
September  that  the  Swiss,  issuing  from  Milan,  came  upon  the 
French  army.  "  The  king,  who  was  purposing  to  sit  down  to 
supper,  left  it  on  the  spot  and  went  straight  towards  the 
enemy  who  were  already  engaged  in  skirmishing,  which 
lasted  a  long  while  before  they  were  at  the  great  game.  The 
king  had  great  numbers  of  lanzknechts,  the  which  would 
fain  have  done  a  bold  deed  in  crossing  a  ditch  to  go  after  the 
Swiss  ;  but  these  latter  let  seven  or  eight  ranks  cross  and 
then  thrust  yon  them  back  in  such  sort  that  all  that  had 
crossed  got  hurled  into  the  ditch.  The  said  lanzknechts  were 
mighty  frightened  ;  and,  but  for  the  aid  of  a  troop  of  men-at- 
arms,  amongst  the  which  was  the  good  knight  Bayard  who 
bore  right  down  through  the  Swiss,  there  had  been  a  sad 
disaster  there,  for  it  was  now  night,  and  night  knows  no 
shame.  A  band  of  Swiss  came  passing  in  front  of  the  king, 
who  charged  them  gallantly.  There  was  heavy  fighting 
there  and  much  danger  to  the  king's  person,  for  his  great 
buffalo  [that  is,  the  top  of  the  vizor  of  his  helmet,  so  called 
because  it  was  made  of  the  leather  of  buffalo  hide]  was 
pierced  so  as  to  let  in  daylight,  by  the  thrust  of  a  pike. 

"  It  was  now  so  late  that  they  could  not  see  one  another  ; 
and  the  Swiss  were,  for  the  evening,  forced  to  retire  on  the 
one  side  arid  the  French  on  the  other.  They  lodged  as  they 
could  ;  but  well  I  trow  that  none  did  rest  at  ease.  The  king 
of  France  put  as  good  a  face  on  matters  as  the  least  of  all 
his  soldiers  did,  for  he  remained  all  night  a-horseback  like 
the  rest.  According  to  some  accounts,  however,  he  had  a 
little  sleep,  lying  on  a  gun  carriage.  On  the  morrow  at  day- 
break the  Swiss  were  for  beginning  again,  and  they  came 
straight  towards  the  French  artillery,  from  wliich  they  had 
a  good  peppering.  Howbeit,  never  did  men  fight  better,  and 
the  affair  lasted  three  or  four  good  hours.  At  last  they  were 
broken  and  beaten,  and  there  were  left  on  the  field  ten  or 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  67 

and  Francis  could  look  round  with  proud  superi- 
ority. 

The  princes  of  Europe  were  alarmed  beyond 
measure  at  the  completeness  of  the  French  success. 
They  had  looked  with  equanimity  at  the  prepara- 
tions of  Francis,  because  they  expected  that  he 
would  be  delayed,  or,  if  he  attacked  the  Swiss, 
would  be  defeated.  But  his  rapid  march  soon  con- 
vinced men  that  he  was  in  earnest,  and  especially 
excited  the  fear  of  Pope  Leo  X. ,  whose  ingenious 
policy  of  being  secretly  allied  with  everybody  was 
disturbed  by  this  display  of  unexpected  vigor.  The 
alarm  of  the  Pope  was  useful  to  Wolsey.  It 
awakened  him  to  the  need  of  making  the  English 
king  his  friend,  and  fulfilling  his  desire  to  have 
"Wolsey  created  cardinal.  Wolsey  had  not  ceased, 
through  his  agent,  the  Bishop  of  Worcester,  to 
urge  this  point  upon  the  Pope,  and  when  Francis 
was  well  advanced  on  his  road  to  Milan  the  plead- 
ings of  Wolsey  were  irresistible.  <  <  If  the  King  of 
England  forsake  the  Pope,"  wrote  Wolsey  to  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester,  < c  he  will  be  in  greater  dan- 
ger on  this  day  two  years  than  ever  was  Pope 

twelve  thousand  of  them.  The  remainder  withdrew  in  pretty 
good  order  along  a  high-road  to  Milan,  whither  they  were 
hotly  pursued."  [Histoire  du  bon  Chevalier  sans  Peur  et  sans 
Reproche,  ii.,  p.  99  ff.J 


68  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Julius."  Leo  X.  had  no  wish  to  run  the  risks 
which  the  impetuous  Julius  II.  faced  with  unbroken 
spirit.  He  prepared  to  keep  himself  supplied  with 
allies  to  protect  him  against  all  emergencies,  and  on 
10th  September  (1515)  nominated  Wolsey  cardinal 
sole,  a  special  mark  of  favor,  as  cardinals  were  gen- 
erally created  in  batches  at  intervals. 

Wolsey 's  creation  was  not  popular  in  the  Eoman 
Court.  Cardinal  Bain  bridge  had  been  overbearing 
in  manner  and  hasty  in  temper,  and  the  English 
were  disliked  for  their  outspokenness.  England 
was  regarded  as  a  political  upstart,  and  Wolsey  was 
considered  to  be  a  fitting  emblem  of  the  country 
which  he  represented.  Moreover,  the  attitude  of 
England  in  ecclesiastical  matters  was  not  marked  by 
that  subservience  which  the  Papacy  wished  to  ex- 
act, and  many  doubted  the  expediency  of  exalting 
in  ecclesiastical  authority  an  English  prelate  of  such 
far-reaching  views  as  "Wolsey  was  known  to  hold. 
An  official  of  the  Koman  Court  gives  the  following 
account  of  the  current  opinion  :— 

"  Men  say  that  an  English  Cardinal  ought  not  to 
be  created  lightly,  because  the  English  behave 
themselves  insolently  in  that  dignity,  as  was  shown 
in  the  case  of  Cardinal  Bainbridge  just  dead. 
Moreover,  as  Wolsey  is  the  intimate  friend  of  the 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  69 

king,  he  will  not  be  contented  with  the  Cardinalate 
alone,  but,  as  is  the  custom  of  these  barbarians,  will 
wish  to  have  the  office  of  legate  over  all  England. 
If  this  be  granted  the  influence  of  the  Eoman  Court 
will  be  at  an  end ;  if  it  be  not  granted  the  Cardinal 
will  be  the  Pope's  enemy  and  will  favor  France. 
JBut  despite  all  this  the  Pope,  in  whose  hands  alone 
the  matter  was,  created  him  Cardinal  on  the  seventh 
of  September. ' ' 

This  elevation  of  Wolsey  was  due  to  the  strong 
expression  of  desire  on  the  part  of  Henry,  who  fur- 
ther asked  that  legatine  powers  should  be  given  to 
the  new  cardinal.  This  Leo  refused  for  the  present ; 
he  had  done  enough  to  induce  Henry  to  enter  into  a 
secret  league  for  the  protection  of  the  Church, 
which  meant  a  convenient  pretext  for  attacking 
Francis  if  he  became  too  powerful  in  Italy.  When 
this  was  arranged  the  red  hat  was  sent  to  England, 
and  its  reception  gave  Wolsey  an  opportunity  of  dis- 
playing his  love  for  magnificent  ceremonial.*  On 

*  ''The  ostentation  of  Wolsey,  as  far  as  we  may  infer  from 
the  character  of  his  display,  was  the  result  rather  of  policy 
than  of  temperament.  He  filled  the  two  highest  offices  in 
the  country,  secular  and  ecclesiastical.  He  had  been  raised 
from  the  ranks  of  the  people  to  be  chancellor  and  cardinal. 
He  was  surrounded  by  a  proud  nobility,  with  whom  he  was 
'the  butcher's  cur.'  He  exhibited  the  pomp  of  his  high 
stations  to  demand  the  respect  which  would  have  been  with- 


70  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

17th  November  it  was  placed  on  his  head  by  Arch- 
bishop  Warham  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Ceremonial,  however  splendid,  was  but  an  episode 

held  from  his  talents  and  learning,  under  a  cloud  of  the 
meanness  of  his  birth.  It  was  an  age  of  display,  when  the 
king  set  the  example  to  his  court  of  the  most  extravagant 
splendor,  which  many  of  the  nobles  ruined  themselves  to 
imitate.  The  simplicity  of  private  life,  of  which  More,  as 
chancellor,  afterwards  furnished  so  admirable  a  pattern,  was 
scarcely  compatible  with  Wolsey's  great  position  as  an 
ecclesiastic.  He  was  the  representative  of  the  pomp  and 
luxury  of  Leo  X. ;  and  he  had  the  same  exalted  ideas  as  the 
Pope  evinced  of  bestowing  a  magnificent  patronage  upon 
learning  and  the  arts.  « Thus  passed  the  Cardinal,'  says 
Cavendish,  '  his  life  from  day  to  day,  and  year  to  year,  in 
such  great  wealth,  joy,  and  triumph,  and  glory,  having 
always  upon  his  side  the  king's  especial  favor.'  But  it  was 
not  that  alone  which  upheld  Wolsey.  His  position  as  the 
greatest  of  English  ecclesiastics  commanded  the  reverence 
that  might  have  been  denied  to  his  civil  abilities ;  his  just 
administration  in  his  court  of  equity  ;  and  the  extraordinary 
influence  over  a  despotic  king,  by  which,  for  so  long  a  period, 
he  preserved  him,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  from  any 
sanguinary  course  of  jealousy  or  revenge,  or  any  blood-guilty 
violation  of  the  rights  of  the  people.  Wolsey's  real  worth 
was  duly  estimated  by  More,  a  very  competent  judge,  who 
said  of  his  administration  of  the  powers  of  the  great 
seal, —  '  he  behaves  most  beautifully.'  Still,  the  sumptuous 
churchman  commanded  a  respect  which  the  wise  chancellor 
might  scarcely  have  propitiated.  In  his  hour  of  misfortune 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  said  to  him,  '  I  regarded  your  honor,  for 
that  ye  were  archbishop  of  York,  and  a  cardinal,  whose 
estate  of  honor  surmounted  any  duke  now  living  within  this 
realm.'  It  was  this  reverence  to  his  spiritual  dignity  which 
made  him  capricious  and  overbearing  in  his  civil  relations." 
Knight,  History  of  England,  ii.  278. 
"  The  king  loaded  him  with  new  proofs  of  his  favor.  The 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  71 

in  Wolsey's  diplomatic  business.  The  news  of  the 
French  victory  at  Marignano  was  so  unpleasant  that 
Henry  VIII.  for  some  time  refused  to  believe  it  to 
be  true.  When  at  last  it  was  impossible  to  doubt 
any  longer,  the  necessity  became  urgent  to  put  a 
spoke  in  the  wheel  of  Francis  I.  England  was  not 
prepared  to  go  to  war  with  France  without  allies, 
and  "Wolsey  developed  his  cleverness  in  attaining  his 
ends  by  secret  means.  Nothing  could  be  done  by 
uniting  with  the  cautious  Ferdinand ;  but  the  flighty 
Maximilian  was  a  more  hopeful  subject.  The  only 
troops  that  could  be  used  against  France  were  the 
German  and  Swiss  mercenaries,  men  who  made  war 
a  trade,  and  were  trained  and  disciplined  soldiers. 
The  first  means  of  injuring  France  was  to  prevent 
her  from  hiring  Swiss  soldiers,  and  the  second  was 

revenues  of  two  sees  whose  tenants  were  foreigners  fell  into 
his  hands ;  he  held  the  bishopric  of  Winchester  and  the 
abbacy  of  St.  Albans.  He  spent  this  vast  wealth  with 
princely  ostentation.  His  pomp  was  almost  royal.  A  train 
of  prelates  and  nobles  followed  him  as  he  moved  ;  his  house- 
hold was  composed  of  five  hundred  persons  of  noble  birth, 
and  its  chief  posts  were  occupied  by  knights  and  barons  of 
the  realm.  Two  of  the  houses  he  built,  Hampton  Court  and 
York  House,  the  later  Whitehall,  were  splendid  enough  to 
serve  at  his  fall  as  royal  palaces.  [The  same  might  be  said  of 
his  palace  in  Rome.]  Nor  was  this  magnificence  a  mere 
show  of  power.  The  whole  direction  of  home  and  foreign 
affairs  rested  with  Wolsey  alone." 

J.  R.  Green,  flistory  of  the  English  People,  ii.  111. 


72  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

to  induce  Maximilian  to  undertake  an  Italian  ex- 
pedition in  his  own  interests.  As  regards  the 
Swiss,  it  was  merely  a  matter  of  money,  for  they 
were  ready  to  sell  themselves  to  the  highest  bidder. 
In  like  manner  it  was  easy  to  subsidize  Maximilian, 
but  it  was  difficult  to  hold  him  to  his  promise  and 
be  sure  that  he  would  spend  the  money  on  the  right 
purpose.  Wolsey,  however,  resolved  to  try  and 
use  Maximilian ;  he  offered  him  the  aid  of  a  large 
contingent  of  the  Swiss  if  he  would  attack  Milan. 
Knowing  the  delicacy  of  the  enterprise  and  the 
slipperiness  of  Maximilian,  Wolsey  entrusted  this 
matter  to  a  man  whose  pertinacity  had  been  al- 
ready tried, — Eichard  Pace,*  secretary  of  Cardinal 

i  Richard  Pace  (1482  ?-15B6)  was  intimately  connected  with 
many  of  the  political  and  diplomatic  movements  of  his  day. 
In  the  year  1509  he  accompanied  Cardinal  Bainbridge  to 
Rome,  where  the  latter  perished  by  assassination.  In  1515 
he  was  sent  to  France  "  on  a  difficult  and  somewhat  dangerous 
mission.  Henry  had  become  jealous  of  the  growing  power  of 
France.  Her  prestige  had  been  greatly  increased  by  her 
victory  over  the  Swiss  at  the  battle  of  Marignano.  The  Swiss, 
sore  at  their  repulse,  might  possibly  be  induced  to  attack 
afresh  the  forces  of  Francis  I.  on  their  side  of  the  Alps.  Pace 
was  entrusted  with  a  limited  amount  of  English  gold  and 
unlimited  promises  .  .  .  Pace's  extant  letters  graphically 
describe  the  incidents  of  his  mission  :  the  insatiable  greed  of 
the  Swiss,  the  indiscretion  of  Sir  Robert  Wingfield,  the 
caprices  and  embarrassments  of  Maximilian,  which  combined 
to  render  abortive  the  scheme  of  wresting  Milan  from  the 
French.  His  negotiations  with  the  Swiss  led  more  than  once 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  73 

Bainbridge,  who  had  stubbornly  insisted  on  an  in- 
vestigation of  the  circumstances  of  his  master's 
death,  and  had  annoyed  the  Eoman  Court  by  his 
watchful  care  of  his  master's  effects.  Pace  was 
sent  to  hire  soldiers  amongst  the  Swiss,  and  Wol- 


to  his  imprisonment  .  .  .  His  tact  and  untiring  energy 
were  duly  appreciated  at  home,  and  on  his  return  he  was 
duly  appointed  secretary  of  state,  besides  being  rewarded 
with  benefices  in  the  Church."  In  1519  he  was  sent  to 
Germany  to  further  the  interests  of  Henry  VIII.,  as  candi- 
date for  the  imperial  throne  left  vacant  by  the  death  of 
Maximilian,  but  the  plan  met  with  no  success.  The  following 
year  he  accompanied  his  king  to  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  displays,  f eastings,  sports,  and  merry- 
makings, he  preached  a  sermon  on  the  blessings  of  peace.  In 
1521,  after  the  death  of  Pope  Leo  X.,  he  was  sent  to  Rome  to 
further  the  interests  of  Wolsey  as  candidate  for  the  vacant 
papal  chair,  but  this  was  without  substantial  result.  In  1523, 
while  in  Venice,  he  was  engaged  in  various  diplomatic 
schemes  when  his  health  gave  way  and  he  was  recalled  to 
England.  Owing  to  the  continuance  of  his  feeble  health  he 
took  no  further  prominent  activity  in  the  affairs  of  state. 
Lupton  says  of  him  that  he  "was  an  amiable  and  accom- 
plished man.  His  skill  in  three  learned  languages  is  praised 
by  his  contemporaries.  He  was  the  friend  of  More  and  of 
Erasmus,  and  Erasmus  in  his  extant  correspondence  addresses 
Pace  more  frequently  than  any  other  correspondent."  There 
is  no  doubt  that  Wolsey  was  jealous  of  his  influence  with  the 
king  at  the  time  of  his  recall  from  Venice.  Whether  that 
recall  was  honestly  due  to  the  failure  of  Pace's  health,  or 
whether  the  condition  of  health  was  only  a  convenient  excuse 
to  disguise  Wolsey's  jealousy,  cannot  now  be  certainly 
known.  His  nature  was  so  sensitive  that  it  is  entirely  credible 
that  his  prolonged  ill-health,  lasting  over  a  dozen  years,  may 
have  been  caused  by  worry  over  Wolsey's  jealousy. 


74  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

sey's  ingenuity  was  sorely  tried  to  supply  him  with 
money  secretly  and  safely. 

The  hindrances  which  beset  Pace  in  carrying  out 
his  instructions  decorously  were  very  many.  Not 
the  least  troublesome  was  the  want  of  intelligence 
displayed  by  Sir  Kobert  Wingfield,  the  English  en- 
voy to  Maximilian.  Wingfield  belonged  to  the  old 
school  of  English  officials,  honest  and  industrious, 
but  entirely  incapable  of  finesse.  He  did  not  under- 
stand what  Pace  was  about ;  he  could  not  compre- 
hend Wolsey's  hints,  but  was  a  blind  admirer  of 
Maximilian,  and  was  made  his  tool  in  his  efforts  to 
get  the  gold  of  England  and  do  nothing  in  return. 
But  Pace  was  deaf  to  the  entreaties  of  Maximilian 
and  to  the  lofty  remonstrances  of  Wingfield.  He 
raised  17,000  Swiss  soldiers,  who  were  to  serve 
under  their  own  general,  and  whose  pay  was  not  to 
pass  through  Maximilian's  hands.  Maximilian  was 
sorely  disappointed  at  this  result,  but  led  his  troops 
to  join  the  Swiss  in  an  attack  on  Milan.  On  24th 
March,  1516,  the  combined  army  was  a  few  miles 
from  Milan,  which  was  poorly  defended,  and  vic- 
tory seemed  secure.  Suddenly  Maximilian  began 
to  hesitate,  and  then  drew  off  his  forces  and  retired. 
We  can  only  guess  at  the  motive  of  this  strange 
proceeding ;  perhaps  he  had  never  been  in  earnest, 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  f5 

and  only  meant  to  extract  money  from  England. 
When  Pace  refused  to  pay  he  probably  negotiated 
with  Francis  L,  and  obtained  money  from  him. 
Anyhow  his  withdrawal  was  fatal  to  the  expedition. 
The  Germans  at  Brescia  seized  the  money  which 
was  sent  to  Pace  for  the  payment  of  the  Swiss. 
The  Swiss  in  anger  mutinied,  and  Pace  was  for 
some  days  thrown  into  prison.  Maximilian  vaguely 
promised  to  return,  but  the  Swiss  troops  naturally 
disbanded.  Such  was  Maximilian's  meanness  that 
he  threatened  Pace,  now  deserted  and  broken  by 
disappointment,  that  if  he  did  not  advance  him  money 
he  would  make  peace  with  France.  Pace,  afraid  to 
run  the  risk,  pledged  Henry  VIII.  to  pay  60,000 
florins.*  All  this  time  Wingfield  was  convinced 
that  it  was  Pace's  ill-judged  parsimony  that  had 
wrought  this  disaster,  and  he  continued  to  write  in 
a  strain  of  superior  wisdom  to  Wolsey.  He  even, 
at  Maximilian's  bidding,  forged  Pace's  name  to  re- 
ceipts for  money.  Never  was  diplomat  in  more 
hopeless  plight  than  the  unlucky  Pace. 

Wolsey  saw  that  his  plan  had  failed,  but  he  put  a 

good  face  upon  his  failure.     Maximilian  enjoyed  the 

advantage  which  consummate  meanness  always  gives 

for  a  moment.     He  put  down  the  failure  to  niggardli- 

*  In  this  case  the  florin  was  worth  about  forty  cents. 


76  lFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ness  in  the  supplies,  and  showed  his  good-will 
towards  Henry  by  treating  him  to  fantastic  propos- 
als. If  Henry  would  only  cross  to  Flanders  with 
6000  men,  Maximilian  would  meet  him  with  his 
army,  set  him  up  as  Duke  of  Milan,  and  resign  the 
Empire  in  his  favor.  This  preposterous  scheme  did 
not  for  a  moment  dazzle  the  good  sense  of  the  Eng- 
lish counsellors.  Pace,  in  announcing  it  to  Wolsey, 
pointed  out  that  the  Emperor  spoke  without  the 
consent  of  the  Electors,  that  Maximilian  was  thor- 
oughly untrustworthy,  and  that  Henry  in  such  an 
enterprise  might  imperil  his  hold  upon  the  English 
Crown,  "which,"  writes  Pace  with  pardonable 
pride,  "is  this  day  more  esteemed  than  the  Em- 
peror's crown  and  all  his  empire."  Henry  was  of 
the  same  opinion;  and  Maximilian  failed  on  this 
plea  ' '  to  pluck  money  from  the  king  craftily. ' ' 
Pace  remained,  and  jingled  English  money  in  Maxi- 
milian's ear,  as  a  means  of  preventing  him  from 
turning  to  France;  but  not  a  penny  was  Maxi- 
milian allowed  to  touch,  to  Sir  Eobert  Wingfield's 
great  annoyance.  Pace  so  far  succeeded,  that 
when,  in  November,  1516,  Francis  I.  made  an  alli- 
ance with  the  Swiss,  five  of  the  cantons  stood  aloof. 
Pace  was  rewarded  for  his  labors  and  sufferings  by 
being  made  a  secretary  of  state.  Sir  Eobert  Wing- 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  f7 

field  received  a  severe  rebuke  from  the  king,  which 
sorely  disturbed  his  self-complacency.  But  it  is 
characteristic  of  Wolsey's  absence  of  personal  feel- 
ing that  Wingfield  was  not  recalled  from  his  post. 
Wolsey  saw  that  he  had  been  no  more  foolish  than 
most  other  Englishmen  would  have  been  in  his  place. 
Meanwhile  a  change  had  taken  place  in  the  affairs 
of  Europe  which  turned  the  attention  of  France  and 
England  alike  in  a  new  direction.  Ferdinand  the 
Catholic  died  in  January  1516,  and  the  prepon- 
derance of  France  had  so  alarmed  him  that  he  laid 
aside  his  plan  of  dividing  the  power  of  the  House 
of  Austria  by  instituting  his  second  grandson, 
Ferdinand,  King  of  Spain.  After  the  battle  of 
Marignano  he  changed  his  will  in  favor  of  his 
eldest  grandson,  the  Archduke  Charles,  who  now 
added  the  Spanish  kingdoms  to  his  possession  of 
the  Netherlands.  The  young  prince  had  just 
emancipated  himself  from  the  tutelage  of  Maxi- 
milian, but  was  under  the  influence  of  ministers 
who  pursued  a  purely  Flemish  policy,  and  longed 
to  give  peace  to  the  Netherlands  by  an  alliance 
with  France.  England  was  connected  with  Flan- 
ders by  commercial  interests,  and  long  negotiations 
had  been  conducted  with  the  Flemish  Govern- 
ment for  a  close  alliance.  But  Charles's  advisers 


78  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

were  won  over  by  France,  and  Charles  himself 
was  attracted  by  the  hope  of  a  French  marriage. 
His  position  was  difficult,  as  he  was  poor  and 
helpless;  he  could  not  even  go  to  take  possession 
of  the  Spanish  Crowns  without  help  from  one  side 
or  the  other.  Had  he  been  older  and  wiser  he 
would  have  seen  that  it  was  safer  to  accept  the  gold 
of  Henry  VIII. ,  from  whose  future  projects  he  had 
nothing  to  fear,  rather  than  try  and  secure  a  pre- 
carious peace  for  the  Netherlands  by  an  alliance 
with  France.  However,  Charles  turned  a  cold  ear 
to  the  English  ambassadors,  and  his  ministers 
secretly  brought  about  a  treaty  with  France,  which 
was  signed  at  Noyon  in  August,  1516. 

The  Treaty  of  Noyon  was  a  further  rebuff  to 
Wolsey,  England  was  passed  by  in  silence,  and  a 
tempting  bait  was  laid  to  draw  Maximilian  also  into 
the  French  alliance,  and  so  leave  England  entirely 
without  allies.  Maximilian  had  been  for  some  time 
at  war  with  Venice  about  the  possession  of  the 
towns  of  Brescia  and  Verona.  The  treaty  of  No- 
yon  provided  that  the  Venetians  should  pay  the 
Emperor  200,000  crowns*  and  remain  in  possession 


*  The  Austrian  crown,  which  is  doubtless  the  one  meant  in 
this  treaty,  was  valued  at  24$  cents.  The  English  crown  was 
worth  $1.21. 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  79 

of  the  disputed  territory.  Maximilian  used  this 
offer  to  put  himself  up  to  auction ;  he  expressed  his 
detestation  of  the  peace  of  Noyon,  but  pleaded  that 
unless  Henry  came  to  his  help  he  would  be  driven 
by  poverty  to  accept  the  proffered  terms.  Henry 
answered  by  a  proposal  that  Maximilian  should 
earn  the  price  he  fixed  upon  his  services :  let  him 
come  into  the  Netherlands,  and  work  the  over- 
throw of  the  unworthy  ministers  who  gave  such 
evil  advice  to  their  sovereign.  Maximilian  stipu- 
lated for  the  allowance  which  he  was  to  receive  for 
the  expenses  of  a  journey  to  the  Netherlands,  for 
which  he  began  to  make  preparations.  He  raised 
all  possible  doubts  and  difficulties,  and  received  all 
the  money  he  could  extract  on  any  pretext  from 
Henry  VIII. ;  at  last  he  secretly  signed  the  Treaty 
of  Noyon  in  December,  and  drew  his  payments 
from  both  parties  so  long  as  he  could  keep  his  game 
unsuspected. 

But  Wolsey  was  not  so  much  deceived  as  Maxi- 
milian thought,  and  showed  no  discomfiture  when 
Maximilian's  shiftiness  at  length  came  to  light.  If 
Maximilian  would  not  be  faithful  it  was  well  that 
his  untrustworthiness  should  be  openly  shown,  and 
Francis  I. ,  who  was  watching  his  manoeuvres,  could 
not  feel  proud  of  his  new  ally.  He  knew  what  he 


80  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

had  to  expect  from  Maximilian  when  the  200,000 
crowns  were  spent.  The  money  that  had  been 
spent  on  Maximilian  was  not  wasted  if  it  gave  him 
an  encouragement  to  display  his  feebleness  to  the 
full. 

So  Henry  maintained  a  dignified  attitude,  and 
showed  no  resentment.  He  received  Maximilian's 
excuses  with  cold  politeness,  and  waited  for  Francis 
I.  to  discover  the  futility  of  his  new  alliances. 
Maximilian  was  clearly  of  no  account.  Charles  had 
gained  all  that  he  could  gain  from  his  League  with 
France  towards  quieting  the  Netherlands;  for  his 
next  step,  a  journey  to  Spain,  he  needed  the  help 
of  England,  and  soon  dropped  his  attitude  of  indif- 
ference. After  thwarting  England  as  much  as  he 
could,  he  was  driven  to  beg  for  a  loan  to  cover  the 
expenses  of  his  journey,  and  England  showed  no 
petty  resentment  for  his  past  conduct.  The  loan 
was  negotiated,  Charles's  ambassadors  were  honor- 
ably received,  it  was  even  proposed  that  he  should 
visit  Henry  on  his  way.  This  honor  Charles  cau- 
tiously declined  on  the  ground  of  ill  health ;  but  all 
the  other  marks  of  Henry's  good- will  were  accepted 
with  gratitude,  and  in  September,  1517,  Charles  set 
out  on  his  voyage  to  Spain,  where  he  found  enough 
to  employ  his  energies  for  some  tune. 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  81 

This  conciliatory  attitude  of  England  was  due  to 
a  perception  that  the  time  had  come  when  simple 
opposition  to  France  was  no  longer  useful.  Eng- 
land had  so  far  succeeded  as  to  prevent  the  French 
ascendency  from  being  complete ;  she  had  stemmed 
the  current,  had  shown  Francis  I.  the  extent  of  her 
resources,  and  had  displayed  unexpected  skill. 
Moreover,  she  had  made  it  clear  that  neither  she 
nor  France  could  form  a  combination  sufficiently 
powerful  to  enable  the  one  to  crush  the  other,  and 
had  given  Francis  I.  a  lesson  as  to  the  amount  of 
fidelity  he  might  expect  from  his  allies.  When  it 
was  clear  to  both  sides  that  there  was  no  hope  for 
far-reaching  schemes,  it  was  natural  for  the  two 
powers  to  draw  together,  and  seek  a  reasonable  re- 
dress for  the  grievances  which  immediately  affected 
them. 

Chief  amongst  these  on  the  French  side  was  the 
possession  of  Tournai  by  the  English,  glorious,  no 
doubt,  as  a  trophy  of  English  valor,  but  of  very 
doubtful  advantage  to  England.  Negotiations  about 
its  restoration  were  begun  as  early  as  March,  1517, 
and  were  conducted  with  profound  secrecy.  Of 
course  Charles  hoped  to  get  Tournai  into  his  own 
hands,  and  did  not  wish  it  to  be  restored  to  France. 

It  was  necessary  to  keep  him  in  ignorance  of  what 
6 


82  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

was  going  on,  and  not  till  he  had  sailed  to  Spain 
were  there  any  rumors  of  what  was  passing. 

Wolsey  and  Henry  VIII.  deceived  the  ambassa- 
dors of  Charles  and  of  Venice  by.  their  repeated  pro- 
fessions of  hostility  against  France,  and  Charles's  re- 
monstrances were  answered  by  equivocations,  so  that 
he  had  no  opportunity  for  interfering  till  the  matter 
had  been  agreed  upon  as  part  of  a  close  alliance  be- 
tween England  and  France.  The  negotiations  for 
this  purpose  were  long  and  intricate,  and  form  the 
masterpiece  of  Wolsey 's  diplomatic  skill.  They 
were  made  more  difficult  by  the  outbreak  in  Eng- 
land of  a  pestilence,  the  sweating  sickness,  before 
which  Henry  fled  from  London  and  moved  uneasily 
from  place  to  place.  Wolsey  was  attacked  by  it  in 
June  so  seriously  that  his  life  was  despaired  of; 
scarcely  was  he  recovered  when  he  suffered  from  a 
second  attack,  and  soon  after  went  on  a  pilgrimage 
to  Walsingham  to  perform  a  vow  and  enjoy  change 
of  air.  But  with  this  exception,  he  stuck  manfully 
to  his  work  in  London,  where,  beside  his  manifold 
duties  in  internal  administration,  he  directed  the 
course  of  the  negotiations  with  France. 

In  fact  Wolsey  alone  was  responsible  for  the 
change  of  policy  indicated  by  the  French  alliance. 
He  had  thoroughly  carried  the  king  with  him ;  but 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  83 

he  was  well  aware  that  his  course  was  likely  to  be 
exceedingly  unpopular,  and  that  on  him  would  fall 
the  blame  of  any  failure.  Henry  did  not  even  in- 
form his  Council  of  his  plans.  He  knew  that  they 
would  all  have  been  opposed  to  such  a  sudden  change 
of  policy,  which  could  only  be  justified  in  their  eyes 
by  its  manifest  advantage  in  the  end.  Wolsey  was 
conscious  that  he  must  not  only  conclude  an  alliance 
with  France,  but  must  show  beyond  dispute  a  clear 
gain  to  England  from  so  doing. 

Wolsey 's  difficulties  were  somewhat  lessened  by 
the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  French  Crown  in  February, 
1518.  France  could  now  offer,  as  a  guarantee  for 
her  close  alliance  with  England,  a  proposal  of  marri- 
age between  the  Dauphin  and  Henry's  only  daughter 
Mary.  Still  the  negotiations  cautiously  went  on 
while  Wolsey  drove  the  hardest  bargain  that  he 
could.  They  were  not  finished  till  September, 
when  a  numerous  body  of  French  nobles  came  on 
a  splendid  embassy  to  London.  Never  had  such 
magnificence  been  seen  in  England  before  as  that 
with  which  Henry  VIII.  received  his  new  allies. 
Even  the  French  nobles  admitted  that  it  was  be- 
yond their  power  to  describe.  Wolsey  entertained 
the  company  at  a  sumptuous  supper  in  his  house  at 
Westminster,  "  the  like  of  which,"  says  theVene- 


84  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

tian  envoy,  *  <  was  never  given  by  Cleopatra  or  Cali- 
gula, the  whole  banqueting  hall  being  decorated  with 
huge  vases  of  gold  and  silver. ' '  After  the  banquet 
a  band  of  mummers,  wearing  visors  on  their  faces, 
entered  and  danced.  There  were  twelve  ladies  and 
twelve  gentlemen,  attended  by  twelve  torch-bearers ; 
all  were  clad  alike  c  <  in  fine  green  satin,  all  over 
covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  undertied  together  with 
laces  of  gold."  They  danced  for  some  time  and 
then  removed  their  masks,  and  the  evening  passed 
in  mirth.  Such  were  the  festivities  of  the  English 
Court,  which  Shakespeare  has  produced,  accurately 
enough,  in  his  play  of  Henry  VIII. 

But  these  Court  festivities  were  only  preliminary 
to  the  public  ceremonies  whereby  Wolsey  impressed 
the  imagination  of  the  people.  The  proclamation  of 
the  treaty  and  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Mary  by 
proxy  were  both  the  occasions  of  splendid  ceremo- 
nies in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  The  people  were  de- 
lighted, by  pageantry  and  good  cheer ;  the  opposi- 
tion of  old-fashioned  politicians  was  overborne  in 
the  prevailing  enthusiasm ;  and  men  spoke  only  of 
the  triumph  of  a  pacific  policy  which  had  achieved 
results  such  as  warfare  could  not  have  won.  Indeed, 
the  advantages  which  England  obtained  were  sub- 
stantial. France  bought  back  Tournai  for  600,000 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  85 

crowns,*  and  entered  into  a  close  alliance  with  Eng- 
land, which  cut  it  off  from  interference  in  the  affairs 
of  Scotland,  which  was  included  in  the  peace  so 
long  as  it  abstained  from  hostilities.  But  more  im- 
portant than  this  was  the  fact  that  Wolsey  insisted 
on  the  alliance  between  France  and  England  being 
made  the  basis  of  a  universal  peace.  The  Pope,  the 
Emperor,  the  King  of  Spain,  were  all  invited  to 
join,  and  all  complied  with  the  invitation. 

None  of  them,  however,  complied  with  good-will, 
least  of  all  Pope  Leo  X. ,  whose  claim  to  be  the  of- 
ficial pacifier  of  Europe  was  rudely  set  aside  by  the 
audacious  action  of  Wolsey.  Leo  hoped  that  the 
bestowal  of  a  cardinal's  hat  had  established  a  hold 
on  Wolsey 's  gratitude;  but  he  soon  found  that  he 
was  mistaken,  and  that  his  cunning  was  no  match 
for  Wolsey 's  force.  No  sooner  had  Wolsey  ob- 
tained the  cardinalate  than  he  pressed  for  the  fur- 
ther dignity  of  papal  legate  in  England.  Not  un- 
naturally Leo  refused  to  endow  with  such  an  office 
a  minister  already  so  powerful  as  to  be  almost  inde- 
pendent ;  but  Wolsey  made  him  pay  for  his  refusal. 
Leo  wanted  money,  and  the  pressure  of  the  Turk 
on  Southern  Europe  lent  a  color  to  his  demand  of 

*  If  English  crowns  are  intended  here,  the  sum  would  amount 
to  more  than  $675,000. 


86  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

clerical  taxation  for  the  purposes  of  a  crusade.  In 
1517  he  sent  out  legates  to  the  chief  kings  of  Chris- 
tendom ;  but  Henry  refused  to  admit  Cardinal  Cam- 
peggio,*  saying  that  "it  was  not  the  rule  of  this 

*  The  legatus  a  latere  (legate  from  the  side)  is  of  two  kinds  : 
the  first  is  called  ordinary,  and  governs  provinces  ;  the  second 
is  extraordinary,  and  is  sent  to  foreign  countries  on  extraor- 
dinary occasions,  to  all  intents  and  purposes  the  same  as 
minister  plenipotentiary.  ' '  Such  a  legate  was  entrusted 
with  powers  almost  as  full  as  those  of  the  Pope  himself  ;  his 
jurisdiction  extended  over  every  bishop  and  priest,  it  over- 
rode every  privilege  or  exemption  of  abbey  or  cell,  while  his 
court  superseded  that  of  Rome  as  the  final  court  of  ecclesias- 
tical appeal  for  the  realm." 

"  Lorenzo  Campeggio  (1472-1539),  cardinal,  and  although  a 
foreigner,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  occupied  on  his  second  mission 
to  England  the  utterly  unprecedented  position  of  a  judge 
before  whom  the  King  of  England  consented  to  sue  in  per- 
son. .  .  .  He  was  sent  to  England  as  legate  to  incite  Henry 
VIII.  to  unite  with  other  princes  in  a  crusade  against  the 
Turks.  He  was  detained  some  time  at  Calais  before  being  al- 
lowed to  cross,  Henry  VIII.  having  insisted  with  the  Pope  that 
his  favorite,  Cardinal  Wolsev,  should  be  invested  with  equal 
legatine  functions  before  he  landed.  ...  In  152?  he  was  be- 
sieged with  Pope  Clement  VII.  at  Rome,  in  the  castle  of  St. 
Angelo.  Next  year  he  was  sent  into  England  on  his  most 
celebrated  mission,  in  which  Wolsey  was  again  joined  with 
him  as  legate,  to  hear  the  divorce  suit  of  Henry  VIII.  against 
Katharine  of  Arragon.  On  this  occasion  he  suffered  much, 
both  physically  and  mentally.  He  was  severely  afflicted 
with  gout,  and  had  to  be  carried  about  in  a  Jitter ;  and,  while 
he  was  pledged  to  the  Pope  in  private  not  to  deliver  judgment 
without  referring  the  matter  to  Rome,  he  was  pressed  by 
Wolsey  to  proceed  without  delay.  Some  of  his  ciphered  de- 
spatches from  London  at  this  time  have  been  deciphered 
within  the  last  few  years,  and  show  a  very  creditable  deter- 
mination on  his  part  not  to  be  made  the  instrument  of  injus- 
tice, whatever  might  be  the  cost  to  himself.  The  cause,  as  is 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PEACE.  87 

realm  to  admit  legates  d  latere. ' '  Then  Wolsey  in- 
tervened and  suggested  that  Campeggio  might  come 
if  he  would  exercise  no  exceptional  powers,  and  if 
his  dignity  were  shared  by  himself.  Leo  was  forced 
to  yield,  and  Campeggio' s  arrival  was  made  the  oc- 
casion of  stately  ceremonies  which  redounded  to 
Wolsey '  s  glorification .  Campeggio  got  little  for  the 
crusade,  but  served  to  grace  the  festivities  of  the 
French  alliance,  and  afterwards  to  convey  the  Pope's 
adhesion  to  the  universal  peace.  Wolsey  had  taken 
matters  out  of  the  Pope's  hand,  and  Leo  was  driven 
to  follow  his  lead  with  what  grace  he  could  muster. 
Perhaps  as  he  sighed  over  his  discomfiture  he  con- 
soled himself  with  the  thought  that  the  new  peace 
would  not  last  much  longer  than  those  previously 
made ;  if  he  did,  he  was  right  in  his  opinion. 

well  known,  was  revoked  to  Rome,  and  so  his  mission  ter- 
minated. On  leaving  the  kingdom  he  was  treated  with 
singular  discourtesy  by  the  officers  of  customs,  who  insisted 
on  searching  his  baggage ;  and  on  his  complaining  to  the 
king,  it  was  clear  that  the  insult  was  premeditated,  and  it 
was  really  a  petty- minded  indication  of  the  royal  displeasure. 
Five  years  later  he  was  deprived  of  the  bishopric  of  Salisbury 
by  act  of  parliament,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  an  alien  and 
non-resident,  though  the  king  had  certainly  never  expected 
him  to  keep  residence  when  he  gave  him  the  bishopric.  He 
died  at  Rome  in  1539." — James  Gairdner,  in  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography.  At  Nuremberg,  in  1524,  Campeggio 
tried  to  win  Luther  back  to  the  Catholic  Church.  At  the 
Diet  of  Augsburg,  in  1530,  he  advised  Charles  V.  to  adopt  a 
relentless  policy  toward  the  Protestants  of  Germany. 


CHAPTEE  IY. 

THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD. 
1518-1520. 

THE  object  of  Wolsey's  foreign  policy  had  been 
attained  by  the  universal  peace  of  1518.  England 
had  been  set  up  as  the  mediator  in  the  politics  of 
Europe.  The  old  claims  of  the  empire  and  the 
papacy  had  passed  away  in  the  conflict  of  national 
and  dynastic  interests,  in  which  papacy  and  empire 
were  alike  involved.  England,  by  virtue  of  its 
insular  position,  was  practically  outside  the  objects 
of  immediate  ambition  which  distracted  its  Conti- 
nental neighbors ;  but  England's  commercial  inter- 
ests made  her  desirous  of  influence,  and  Henry  VIII. 
was  bent  upon  being  an  important  personage.  It 
was  Wolsey's  object  to  gratify  the  king  at  the  least 
expense  to  the  country,  and  so  long  as  the  king 
could  be  exalted  by  peaceful  means,  the  good  of 
England  was  certainly  promoted  at  the  same  time. 
The  position  of  England  as  the  pacifier  of  Europe 
was  one  well  qualified  to  develop  a  national  con- 

88 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.     89 

sciousness  of  great  duties  to  perform;  and  it  may 
be  doubted  if  a  country  is  ever  great  unless  it  has  a 
clear  consciousness  of  some  great  mission. 

Wolsey's  policy  had  been  skilful,  and  the  results 
which  he  had  obtained  were  glorious;  but  it  was 
difficult  to  maintain  the  position  which  he  had  won. 
It  was  one  thing  to  proclaim  a  peace ;  it  was  an- 
other to  contrive  that  peace  should  be  kept.  One 
important  question  was  looming  in  the  distance 
when  Wolsey's  peace  was  signed, — the  succession 
to  the  empire  on  Maximilian's  death.  Unfortu- 
nately this  question  came  rapidly  forward  for  deci- 
sion, as  Maximilian  died  suddenly  on  12th  January, 
1519,  and  the  politicians  of  Europe  waited  breath- 
lessly to  see  who  would  be  chosen  as  his  successor. 

The  election  to  the  empire  rested  with  the  seven 
electors,  the  chief  princes  of  Germany ;  but  if  they 
had  been  minded  on  this  occasion  to  exercise  freely 
their  right,  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  them  to 
do  so.  The  empire  had  for  a  century  been  with 
the  house  of  Austria,  and  Maximilian  had  schemed 
eagerly  that  it  should  pass  to  his  grandson  Charles. 
It  is  true  that  Charles  was  already  King  of  Spain, 
Lord  of  the  Netherlands,  and  King  of  Naples  and 
Sicily,  so  that  it  seemed  dangerous  to  increase  still 
further  his  great  dominions.  But  Charles  urged 


90  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

his  claim,  and  his  great  rival,  Francis  I.  of  France, 
entered  the  lists  against  him.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem  that  a  French  king  should  aspire  to  rule  over 
Germany,  Francis  I.  could  urge  that  he  was  almost 
as  closely  connected  with  Germany  as  was  Charles, 
whose  interests  were  bound  up  with  those  of  Spain 
and  the  Netherlands.  In  the  face  of  these  two 
competitors,  it  was  hard  for  the  electors  to  find  a 
candidate  of  a  humbler  sort  who  would  venture  to 
draw  upon  himself  the  wrath  of  their  disappoint- 
ment. Moreover,  the  task  of  ruling  Germany  was 
not  such  as  to  attract  a  small  prince.  The  Turks 
were  threatening  its  borders,  and  a  strong  man  was 
needed  to  deal  with  many  pressing  problems  of  its 
government.  The  electors,  however,  were  scarcely 
guilty  of  any  patriotic  considerations ;  they  quietly 
put  up  their  votes  for  auction  between  Francis  and 
Charles,  and  deferred  a  choice  as  long  as  they  could. 
Both  competitors  turned  for  help  to  their  allies, 
the  Pope  and  the  King  of  England,  who  found 
themselves  greatly  perplexed.  Leo  X.  did  not 
wish  to  see  French  influence  increased,  as  France 
was  a  dangerous  neighbor  in  Italy  ;  nor  did  he 
wish  to  see  the  empire  and  the  kingdom  of  Naples 
both  held  by  the  same  man,  for  that  was  against 
the  immemorial  policy  of  the  Papacy.  So  Leo  in- 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.  91 

trigued  and  prevaricated  to  such  an  extent  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  determine  what  he  was 
aiming  at.  He  managed,  however,  to  throw  hin- 
drances in  Wolsey's  path,  though  we  cannot  be  sure 
that  he  intended  to  do  so. 

Wolsey's  plan  of  action  was  clear,  though  it  was 
not  dignified.  Pie  wished  to  preserve  England's 
mediating  attitude  and  give  offence  to  no  one; 
consequently,  he  secretly  promised  his  help  both 
to  Charles  and  Francis,  and  tried  to  arrange  that 
each  should  be  ignorant  of  his  promises  to  the  other. 
All  went  well  till  Leo,  in  his  diplomatic  divaga- 
tions, commissioned  his  legate  to  suggest  to  Henry 
VIII.  that  it  might  be  possible,  after  all,  to  find 
some  third  candidate  for  the  empire,  and  that  he 
was  ready  to  try  and  put  off  the  election  for  that 
purpose,  if  Henry  agreed.  Henry  seems  to  have 
considered  this  as  a  hint  from  the  Pope  to  become 
a  candidate  himself.  He  remembered  that  Maxi- 
milian had  offered  to  resign  the  empire  in  his  favor, 
but  he  forgot  the  sufficient  reasons  which  had  led 
him  to  dismiss  the  proposal  as  fantastic  and  absurd. 
His  vanity  was  rather  tickled  with  the  notion  of 
rivalling  Charles  and  Francis,  and  he  thought  that 
if  the  Pope  were  on  his  side,  his  chances  would  be 
as  good  as  theirs. 


92  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

We  can  only  guess  at  Wolsey 's  dismay  when  his 
master  laid  this  project  before  him.  Whatever 
Wolsey  thought,  he  knew  that  it  was  useless  to 
offer  any  opposition.  However  much  he  might  be 
able  to  influence  the  king's  opinions  in  the  making, 
he  knew  that  he  must  execute  them  when  they  were 
made.  If  Henry  had  made  up  his  mind  to  become 
a  candidate  for  the  empire,  a  candidate  he  must 
be.  All  that  could  be  done  was  to  prevent  his 
determination  from  being  hopelessly  disastrous. 
So  Wolsey  pointed  out  that  great  as  were  the  ad- 
vantages to  be  obtained  by  gaining  the  empire, 
there  were  dangers  in  being  an  unsuccessful  candi- 
date. It  was  necessary  first  to  make  sure  of  the 
Pope,  and  then  to  prosecute  Henry's  candidature 
by  fair  and  honorable  means.  Francis  was  spend- 
ing money  lavishly  to  win  supporters  to  his  side ; 
and  Charles  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  follow 
his  example  lest  he  should  be  outbid.  It  would  be 
unwise  for  Henry  to  squander  his  money  and  simply 
raise  the  market  price  of  the  votes.  Let  him  make 
it  clear  to  the  greedy  Germans  that  they  would  not 
see  the  color  of  England's  money  till  the  English 
king  had  been  really  elected. 

So  Wolsey  sent  the  most  cautious  instructions  to 
his  agent  in  Koine  to  see  if  the  Pope  would  take  the 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.     93 

responsibility  of  urging  Henry  to  become  a  candidate ; 
but  Leo  was  too  cautious,  and  affected  not  to  under- 
stand the  hint.  Then  in  May,  Pace,  who  was  now  the 
king's  secretary,  was  sent  to  Germany  to  sound  the 
electors  with  equal  care.  He  was  to  approach  the  elec- 
tors who  were  on  Francis's  side,  as  though  Henry 
were  in  favor  of  Francis,  and  was  to  act  similarly 
to  those  who  were  in  favor  of  Charles ;  then  he  was 
to  hint  cautiously  that  it  might  be  well  to  choose 
some  one  more  closely  connected  with  Germany, 
and  if  they  showed  any  acquiescence,  was  to  suggest 
that  Henry  was  "of  the  German  tongue,"  and 
then  was  to  sing  his  praises.  Probably  both  Pace 
and  Wolsey  knew  that  it  was  too  late  to  do  any- 
thing serious.  Pace  reported  that  the  money  of 
France  and  Spain  was  flowing  on  all  sides,  and  was 
of  opinion  that  the  empire  was  ' c  the  dearest  mer- 
chandise that  ever  was  sold,"  and  would  prove 
"  the  worst  that  ever  was  bought  to  him  that  shall 
obtain  it. ' '  Yet  still  he  professed  to  have  hopes, 
and  even  asked  for  money  to  enter  the  lists  of  cor- 
ruption. But  this  was  needless,  as  the  election  at 
last  proceeded  quickly.  The  Pope  came  round  to 
the  side  of  Charles  as  being  the  least  of  two  evils, 
and  Charles  was  elected  on  28th  June. 

Thus  Wolsey  succeeded  in  satisfying  his  master's 


94  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

demands  without  committing  England  to  any  breach 
with  either  of  her  allies.  Henry  VIII.  could 
scarcely  be  gratified  at  the  part  that  he  had  played, 
but  "Wolsey  could  convince  him  that  he  had  tried 
his  best,  and  that  at  any  rate  no  harm  had  been 
done.  Though  Henry's  proceedings  were  known 
to  Francis  and  Charles,  there  was  nothing  at  which 
they  could  take  offence.  Henry  had  behaved  with 
duplicity,  but  that  was  only  to  be  expected  in  those 
days;  he  had  not  pronounced  himself  strongly 
against  either.  The  ill-will  that  had  long  been  sim- 
mering between  Charles  V.  and  Francis  I.  had  risen 
to  the  surface,  and  the  long  rivalry  between  the 
two  monarchs  was  now  declared.  Each  looked  for 
allies,  and  the  most  important  ally  was  England. 
Each  had  hopes  of  winning  over  the  English  king, 
and  Wolsey  wished  to  keep  alive,  without  satisfy- 
ing, the  hopes  of  both,  and  so  establish  still  more 
securely  the  power  of  England  as  holding  the  bal- 
ance of  the  peace  of  Europe. 

Wolsey 's  conduct  in  this  matter  throws  much 
light  on  his  relations  to  the  king,  and  the  method 
by  which  he  retained  his  influence  and  managed  to 
carry  out  his  own  designs.  He  appreciated  the 
truth  that  a  statesman  must  lead  while  seeming  to 
follow — a  truth  which  applies  equally  to  all  f prms 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.  95 

of  government.  Wolsey  was  responsible  to  no  one 
but  the  king,  and  so  had  a  better  opportunity  than 
has  a  statesman  who  serves  a  democracy  to  obtain 
permission  to  carry  out  a  consecutive  policy.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  was  more  liable  to  be 
thwarted  and  interrupted  in  matters  of  detail  by 
the  interference  of  a  superior.  Wolsey's  far-see- 
ing policy  was  endangered  by  the  king's  vanity 
and  obstinacy ;  he  could  not  ask  for  time  to  justify 
his  own  wisdom,  but  was  forced  to  obey.  Yet 
even  then  he  would  not  abandon  his  own  position 
and  set  himself  to  minimize  the  inconvenience.  It 
is  impossible  to  know  how  often  Wolsey  was  at 
other  times  obliged  to  give  way  to  the  king  and 
adopt  the  second-best  course;  but  in  this  case  we 
find  clear  indications  of  the  process.  When 
he  was  driven  from  his  course,  he  contrived  that 
the  deviation  should  be  as  unimportant  as  possi- 
ble. 

Wolsey's  task  of  maintaining  peace  by  English 
mediation  was  beset  with  difficulties  now  that  the 
breach  between  Francis  I.  and  Charles  V.  was  clearly 
made.  It  was  necessary  for  England  to  be  friendly 
to  both,  and  not  to  be  drawn  by  its  friendliness  to- 
wards either  to  offend  the  other.  In  the  matter  of 
the  imperial  election  English  influence  had  been, 


96  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

somewhat  on  the  side  of  Charles,  and  Francis  was 
now  the  one  who  needed  propitiation.  The  treaty 
with  France  had  provided  for  a  personal  interview 
between  the  two  kings,  and  Francis  was  anxious 
that  it  should  take  place  at  once.  For  this  purpose  he 
strove  to  win  the  good  offices  of  Wolsey .  He  assured 
him  that  in  case  of  a  papal  election  he  could  com- 
mand fourteen,  votes  which  should  be  given  in  his 
favor.  Moreover,  he  conferred  on  him  a  signal  mark 
of  his  confidence  by  nominating  him  his  plenipo- 
tentiary for  the  arrangements  about  the  forthcoming 
interview.  By  this  all  difficulties  were  removed, 
and  Wolsey  stood  forward  before  the  eyes  of  Europe 
as  the  accredited  representative  of  the  kings  of  Eng- 
land and  France  at  the  same  time.  It  is  no  wonder 
that  men  marvelled  at  such  an  unheard-of  position 
for  an  English  subject. 

But  nothing  that  Francis  had  to  give  could  turn 
Wolsey  away  from  his  own  path.  No  sooner  did  he 
know  that  the  French  interview  was  agreed  upon 
than  he  suggested  to  Charles  that  it  would  be  well 
for  him  also  to  have  a  meeting  with  the  English 
king.  The  proposal  was  eagerly  accepted,  and 
Wolsey  conducted  the  negotiations  about  both  inter- 
views side  by  side.  Barely  did  two  meetings  cause 
such  a  flow  of  ink  and  raise  so  many  knotty  points. 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.  97 

At  last  it  was  agreed  that  Charles  should  visit  Henry 
in  England  in  an  informal  way  before  the  French 
interview  took  place.  It  was  difficult  to  induce  the 
punctilious  Spaniards  to  give  way  to  Wolsey's  re- 
quirements. It  was  a  hard  thing  for  one  who  bore 
the  high-sounding  title  of  Emperor  to  agree  to  visit 
a  King  of  England  on  his  own  terms.  But  Wolsey 
was  resolute  that  everything  should  be  done  in  such 
a  way  as  to  give  France  the  least  cause  of  complaint. 
When  the  Spanish  envoys  objected  to  his  arrange- 
ments or  proposed  alterations,  he  brought  them  to 
their  bearings  by  saying,  < 4  Yery  well ;  then  do  not  do 
it  and  begone. ' '  They  were  made  to  feel  their  depen- 
dence on  himself.  The  interview  was  of  their  seek- 
ing, and  must  be  held  on  terms  which  he  proposed, 
or  not  at  all.  This,  no  doubt,  was  felt  to  be  very 
haughty  conduct  on  Wolsey's  part;  but  he  had  set 
on  foot  the  scheme  of  this  double  interview,  by  which 
Henry  was  to  be  glorified  and  England's  mediatorial 
position  assured.  It  was  his  business  to  see  that  his 
plan  succeeded.  So  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  offers 
of  the  Spanish  ambassadors.  He  was  not  to  be 
moved  by  the  promise  of  ecclesiastical  revenues  in 
Spain.  Even  when  the  influence  of  Spain  was  prof- 
fered to  secure  his  election  to  the  Papacy,  he  coldly 
refused. 
7 


98  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

It  has  been  said  that  Wolsey  was  open  to  bribes, 
and  his  seemingly  tortuous  policy  has  been  accounted 
for  by  the  supposition  that  he  inclined  to  the  side 
which  promised  him  most.  This,  however,  is  an 
entire  mistake.  Wolsey  went  his  own  way ;  but  at 
the  same  time  he  did  not  disregard  his  personal 
profit.  He  was  too  great  a  man  to  be  bribed ;  but 
his  greatness  entailed  magnificence,  and  magnificence 
is  expensive.  He  regarded  it  as  natural  that  sover- 
eigns who  threw  work  upon  his  shoulders  should 
make  some  recognition  of  his  labors.  This  was  the 
custom  of  the  time ;  and  Wolsey  was  by  no  means 
singular  in  receiving  gifts  from  foreign  kings. 
The  chief  lords  of  Henry's  Court  received  pensions 
from  the  King  of  France;  and  the  lords  of  the 
French  Court  were  similarly  rewarded  by  Henry. 
This  was  merely  a  complimentary  custom,  and  was 
open  and  avowed.  Wolsey  received  a  pension  from 
Francis  L,  and  a  further  sum  as  compensation  for 
the  bishopric  of  Tournai,  which  he  resigned  when 
Tournai  was  returned  to  France.  In  like  manner, 
Charles  Y.  rewarded  him  by  a  Spanish  bishopric ; 
but  Wolsey  declined  the  office  of  bishop,  and  pre- 
ferred to  receive  a  fixed  pension  secured  on  the  rev- 
enues of  the  see.  This  iniquitous  arrangement  was 
carried  out  with  the  Pope's  consent ;  and  such  like 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.  99 

arrangements  were  by  no  means  rare.  They  were 
the  natural  result  of  the  excessive  wealth  of  the 
Church,  which  was  diverted  to  the  royal  uses  by  a 
series  of  fictions,  more  or  less  barefaced,  but  all 
tending  to  the  weakening  of  the  ecclesiastical 
organization.  Still  the  fact  remains  that  Wolsey 
thought  no  shame  of  receiving  pensions  from  Francis 
and  Charles  alike ;  but  there  was  nothing  secret  nor 
extraordinary  in  this.  Wolsey  regarded  it  as  only 
obvious  that  his  statesmanship  should  be  rewarded 
by  those  for  whom  it  was  exercised ;  but  the  Em- 
peror and  the  King  of  France  never  hoped  that  by 
these  pensions  they  would  attach  Wolsey  to  their 
side.  The  promise  by  which  they  tried  to  win  him 
was  the  promise  of  the  Papacy ;  and  to  this  "Wolsey 
turned  a  deaf  ear.  « <  He  is  seven  times  more  power- 
ful than  the  Pope,"  wrote  the  Venetian  ambas- 
sador ;  and  perhaps  Wolsey  himself  at  this  time  was 
of  the  same  opinion. 

Meanwhile  Francis  was  annoyed  when  he  heard 
of  these  dealings  with  Charles,  and  tried  to  coun- 
teract them  by  pressing  for  an  early  date  of  his 
meeting  with  Henry  VIII.  It  is  amazing  to  find 
how  large  a  part  domestic  events  were  made  to  play 
in  these  matters  of  high  policy  when  occasion 
needed.  Francis  urged  that  he  was  very  anxious 


100  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

for  his  queen  to  be  present  to  welcome  Katharine ; 
but  she  was  expecting  her  confinement,  and  if  the 
interview  did  not  take  place  soon  she  would  be  un- 
able to  appear.  Wolsey  replied  with  equal  concern 
for  family  affairs,  that  the  Emperor  was  anxious  to 
visit  his  aunt,  whom  he  had  never  seen,  and  Henry 
could  not  be  so  churlish  as  to  refuse  a  visit  from  his 
wife's  relative.  Katharine,  on  her  side,  was  over- 
joyed at  this  renewal  of  intimacy  with  the  Spanish 
Court,  to  whose  interests  she  was  strongly  attached, 
and  tried  to  prevent  the  understanding  with  France, 
by  declaring  that  she  could  not  possibly  have  her 
dresses  ready  under  three  months.  In  her  dislike 
of  the  French  alliance  Queen  Katharine  expressed 
the  popular  sentiment.  The  people  had  long  re- 
garded France  as  the  natural  enemy  of  England, 
and  were  slow  to  give  up  their  prejudices.  The 
nobles  grew  more  and  more  discontented  with  Wol- 
sey's  policy,  which  they  did  not  care  to  understand. 
They  only  saw  that  their  expectations  of  a  return  to 
power  were  utterly  disappointed;  Wolsey,  backed 
by  officials  such  as  Pace,  was  all-powerful,  and  they 
were  disregarded.  Wolsey  was  working  abso- 
lutely single-handed.  It  is  a  remarkable  proof  of 
his  skill  that  he  was  able  to  draw  the  king  to  fol- 
low him  unhesitatingly,  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  per- 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.         101 

sonal  popularity,  and  in  spite  of  the  representations 
of  those  who  were  immediately  around  him. 

Moreover,  Wolsey,  in  his  capacity  of  representative 
of  the  Kings  of  England  and  France,  had  in  his  hands 
the  entire  management  of  all  concerning  the  coming 
interview.  He  fixed  the  place  with  due  regard  to 
the  honor  of  England,  almost  on  English  soil.  The 
English  king  was  not  to  lodge  outside  his  own  ter- 
ritory of  Calais ;  the  spot  appointed  for  the  meeting 
was  on  the  meadows  between  Guisnes  and  Ardres, 
on  the  borderland  of  the  two  kingdoms.  "Wolsey 
had  to  decide  which  of  the  English  nobles  and  gen- 
try were  to  attend  the  king,  and  had  to  assign  to 
each  his  office  and  dignity.  The  king's  retinue 
amounted  to  nearly  4000,  and  the  queen's  was 
somewhat  over  1000.  A  very  slight  knowledge  of 
human  nature  will  serve  to  show  how  many  people 
Wolsey  must  necessarily  have  offended.  If  the 
ranks  of  his  enemies  were  large  before,  they  must 
have  increased  enormously  when  his  arrangements 
were  made  known. 

Still  Wolsey  was  not  daunted,  and  however  much 
every  one,  from  Francis  and  Charles,  felt  aggrieved 
by  his  proceedings,  all  had  to  obey ;  and  everything 
that  took  place  was  due  to  Wolsey 's  will  alone. 
The  interview  with  Charles  was  simple.  On  26th 


102  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

May,  1520,  he  landed  at  Dover,  and  was  met  by 
Wolsey ;  next  morning  Henry  rode  to  meet  him  and 
escort  him  to  Canterbury,  which  was  his  head- 
quarters; on  the  29th  Charles  rode  to  Sandwich, 
where  he  embarked  for  Flanders.  What  subjects 
the  two  monarchs  discussed  we  can  only  dimly 
guess.  Each  promised  to  help  the  other  if  attacked 
by  France,  and  probably  Henry  undertook  to  bring 
about  a  joint-conference  of  the  three  sovereigns  to 
discuss  their  common  interests.  The  importance  of 
the  meeting  lay  in  its  display  of  friendliness ;  in  the 
warning  which  it  gave  to  France  that  she  was  not 
to  count  upon  the  exclusive  possession  of  England's 
good-will. 

No  sooner  was  the  Emperor  gone  than  Henry 
embarked  for  Calais,  and  arrived  at  Guisnes  on  4th 
June.  We  need  not  describe  again  the  i  l  Field  of 
the  Cloth  of  Gold,"  to  furnish  which  the  art  of  the 
Renaissance  was  used  to  deck  medieval  pageantry. 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  stately  palaces  of  wood 
clothed  the  barren  stretch  of  flat  meadows,  and  that 
every  ornament  which  man's  imagination  could  de- 
vise was  employed  to  lend  splendor  to  the  scene. 
No  doubt  it  was  barbaric,  wasteful,  and  foolish; 
but  men  in  those  days  loved  the  sight  of  magnifi- 
cence, and  the  display  was  as  much  for  the  enjoy- 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.         1Q3 

ment  of  countless  spectators  as  for  the  self-glorifica- 
tion of  those  who  were  the  main  actors.  In  those 
days  the  solace  of  a  poor  man's  life  was  the  oc- 
casional enjoyment  of  a  stately  spectacle ;  and  after 
all,  splendor  gives  more  pleasure  to  the  lookers-on 
than  to  the  personages  of  the  show. 

Most  splendid  among  the  glittering  throng  was 
the  figure  of  Wolsey,  who  had  to  support  the 
dignity  of  representative  of  both  kings,  and  spared 
no  pains  to  do  it  to  the  full.  But  while  the  jousts 
went  on,  Wolsey  was  busy  with  diplomacy ;  there 
were  many  points  relating  to  a  good  understanding 
between  France  and  England,  which  he  wished  to 
arrange, — the  projected  marriage  of  the  Dauphin 
with  Mary  of  England,  the  payment  due  from 
France  to  England  on  several  heads,  the  relations 
between  France  and  Scotland  and  the  like.  More 
important  than  these  was  the  reconciliation  of 
Charles  with  Francis,  which  "Wolsey  pressed  to  the 
utmost  of  his  persuasiveness,  without,  however, 
reaching  any  definite  conclusion.  Charles  was 
hovering  on  the  Flemish  border,  ready  at  a  hint 
from  Wolsey  to  join  the  conference;  but  Wolsey 
could  find  no  good  reasons  for  giving  it,  and  when 
the  festivities  came  to  an  end  on  24th  June,  it  might 
be  doubted  if  much  substantial  good  had  resulted 


104  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

from  the  interview.  No  doubt  the  French  and 
English  fraternized,  and  swore  friendship  over  their 
cups ;  but  tournaments  were  not  the  happiest  means 
of  allaying  feelings  of  rivalry,  and  the  protestations 
of  friendship  were  little  more  than  lip-deep.  Yet 
"Wolsey  cannot  be  blamed  for  being  over-sanguine. 
It  was  at  least  a  worthy  end  that  he  had  before  him, 
— the  removal  of  long-standing  hostility,  the  settle- 
ment of  old  disputes,  the  union  of  two  neighboring 
nations  by  the  assertion  of  common  aims  and  com- 
mon interests.  However  we  may  condemn  the 
methods  which  "Wolsey  used,  at  least  we  must  admit 
that  his  end  was  in  accordance  with  the  most  en- 
lightened views  of  modern  statesmanship. 

When  Henry  had  taken  leave  of  Francis,  he 
waited  in  Calais  for  the  coming  of  Charles,  whose 
visit  to  England  was  understood  to  be  merely  pre- 
liminary to  further  negotiations.  Again  Henry 
held  the  important  position;  he  went  to  meet 
Charles  at  Gravelines,  where  he  stayed  for  a  night, 
and  then  escorted  Charles  as  his  guest  to  Calais, 
where  he  stayed  from  10th  to  14th  July.  The  re- 
sult of  the  conference  was  a  formal  treaty  of  alliance 
between  the  two  sovereigns,  which  Charles  proposed 
to  confirm  by  betrothing  himself  to  Henry's  daugh- 
ter Mary.  As  she  was  a  child  of  four  years  old. 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.         105 

such  an  undertaking  did  not  bind  him  to  much ;  but 
Mary  was  already  betrothed  to  the  Dauphin,  while 
Charles  was  also  already  betrothed  to  Charlotte  of 
France,  so  that  the  proposal  aimed  at  a  double  breach 
of  existing  relationships  and  treaties.  Henry  listened 
to  this  scheme,  which  opened  up  the  way  for  fur- 
ther negotiation,  and  the  two  monarchs  parted  with 
protestations  of  friendship.  It  was  now  the  turn  of 
Francis  to  hang  about  the  place  where  Henry  was 
holding  conference  with  his  rival,  in  hopes  that  he 
too  might  be  invited  to  their  discussions.  He  had 
to  content  himself  with  hearing  that  Henry  rode  a 
steed  which  he  had  presented  to  him,  and  that  his 
face  did  not  look  so  contented  and  cheerful  as  when 
he  was  on  the  meadows  of  Guisnes.  In  due  time 
he  received  from  Henry  an  account  of  what  had 
passed  between  himself  and  the  Emperor.  Henry 
informed  him  of  Charles's  marriage  projects,  and  of 
his  proposal  for  an  alliance  against  France,  both  of 
which  Henry  falsely  said  that  he  had  rejected  with 
holy  horror. 

Truly  the  records  of  diplomacy  are  dreary,  and 
the  results  of  all  this  display,  this  ingenious  schem- 
ing, and  this  deceit  seem  ludicrously  small.  The 
upshot,  however,  was  that  Wolsey's  ideas  still  re- 
mained dominant,  and  that  the  position  which  he 


J06  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

had  marked  out  for  England  was  still  maintained. 
He  had  been  compelled  to  change  the  form  of  his 
policy,  but  its  essence  was  unchanged.  European 
affairs  could  no  longer  be  directed  by  a  universal 
peace  under  the  guarantee  of  England ;  so  "Wolsey 
substituted  for  it  a  system  of  separate  alliances  with 
England,  by  which  England  exercised  a  mediating 
influence  on  the  policy  of  the  two  monarchs,  whose 
rivalry  threatened  a  breach  of  European  peace.  He 
informed  Francis  of  the  schemes  of  Charles,  that  he 
might  show  him  how  much  depended  on  English 
mediation.  He  so  conducted  matters  that  Charles 
and  Francis  should  both  be  aware  that  England 
could  make  advantageous  terms  with  either,  that 
her  interests  did  not  tend  to  one  side  rather  than 
the  other,  that  both  should  be  willing  to  secure  her 
good- will,  and  should  shrink  from  taking  any  step 
which  would  throw  her  on  the  side  of  his  adversary. 
It  was  a  result  worth  achieving,  though  the  position 
was  precarious,  and  required  constant  watchfulness 
to  maintain.* 

*  "  This  meeting,"  writes  Guizot,  "  has  remained  celebrated 
in  history  far  more  for  its  royal  pomp  and  for  the  personal 
incidents  which  were  connected  with  it  than  for  its  political 
results.  It  was  called  The  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold;  and  the 
courtiers  who  attended  the  two  sovereigns  felt  bound  to 
almost  rival  them  in  sumptuousness,  '  insomuch  that  many 
bore  their  mills,  their  forests,  and  their  meadows  on  their 


1 


The  meeting  of  Henry  VIII.  and  Francis  I.  on  Tfie  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold. 
Page  107.  Life  of  Thomas  Wolsey. 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.         107 

backs.'  Henry  VIII.  had  employed  eleven  hundred  work- 
men, the  most  skilful  of  Flanders  and  Holland,  in  building  a 
quadrangular  palace  of  wood,  128  feet  long  every  way ;  on 
one  side  of  the  entrance  gate  was  a  fountain,  covered  with 
gilding  and  surmounted  by  a  statue  of  Bacchus,  round  which 
there  flowed  through  subterranean  pipes  all  sorts  of  wines, 
and  which  bore,  in  letters  of  gold,  the  inscription,  MAKE  GOOD 
CHEER,  WHO  WILL  ;  and  on  the  other  side  a  column,  supported 
by  four  lions,  was  surmounted  by  a  statue  of  Cupid  armed 
with  bow  and  arrows.  Opposite  the  palace  was  erected  a 
huge  figure  of  a  savage  wearing  the  arms  of  his  race,  with 
this  inscription  chosen  by  Henry  VIII.,  HE  WHOM  I  BACK 
WINS.  The  frontage  was  covered  outside  with  canvas  painted 
to  represent  freestone  ;  and  the  inside  was  hung  with  rich 
tapestries.  Francis  I.,  emulous  of  equaling  his  ro}ral  neighbor 
in  magnificence,  had  ordered  to  be  erected  close  to  Ardres  an 
immense  tent,  upheld  in  the  middle  by  a  colossal  pole  firmly 
fixed  in  the  ground  and  with  pegs  and  cordage  all  around  it. 
Outside,  the  tent  in  the  shape  of  a  dome,  was  covered  with 
cloth  of  gold  ;  and  inside,  it  represented  a  sphere  with  a  ground 
of  blue  velvet  and  studded  with  stars  like  the  firmament.  At 
each  angle  of  the  large  tent  was  a  small  one,  equally  richly 
decorated.  But  before  the  two  sovereigns  exchanged  visits, 
in  the  midst  of  all  these  preparations,  there  arose  a  violent 
hurricane  which  tore  up  the  pegs  and  split  the  cordage  of 
the  French  tent,  scattered  them  over  the  ground  and  forced 
Francis  I.  to  take  up  his  quarters  in  an  old  castle  near  Ardres. 
When  the  two  kings'  two  chief  councillors,  Cardinal  Wolsey 
on  one  side  and  Admiral  Bonniveton  the  other,  had  regulated 
the  formalities,  on  the  7th  of  June,  1520,  Francis  I.  and  Henry 
VIII.  set  out  on  their  way  at  the  same  hour  and  the  same 
pace  for  their  meeting  in  the  valley  of  Ardres,  where  a  tent 
had  been  prepared  for  them." 

The  meeting  of  the  two  kings  is  described  by  Miss  Pardoe 
in  the  following  words  :  "  The  Due  de  Bourbon,  as  Connetable 
of  France,  bore  his  drawn  sword  in  front  of  his  sovereign, 
which  Henry  VIII.  no  sooner  remarked  than  he  desired  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset,  who  carried  his  own  sword  of  state,  to 
unsheath  it  in  like  manner ;  and  this  done,  the  monarch* 


108  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

rode  into  the  valley,  where  they  at  length  met  face  to  face  at 
the  head  of  two  of  the  most  brilliant  assemblages  of  nobility 
which  had  ever  been  seen  in  Europe.  For  a  brief  instant, 
both  paused  as  they  surveyed  each  other  with  astonishment 
and  admiration  ;  for  they  were  at  that  period,  beyond  all 
parallel,  the  two  most  comely  princes  in  Christendom.  Fran- 
cis was  the  taller  and  the  more  slender  of  the  two  ;  and  was 
attired  in  a  vest  of  cloth  of  silver  damasked  with  gold,  and 
edged  with  a  border  of  embossed  work  in  party-colored  silks. 
Over  this  he  wore  a  cloak  of  brocaded  satin,  with  a  scarf  of 
gold  and  purple  crossing  over  one  shoulder,  and  buttoned  to 
the  waist,  richly  set  with  pearls  and  precious  stones  ;  while 
his  long  hair  escaped  from  a  coif  of  damasked  gold  set  with 
diamonds,  and  gave  him  a  noble  and  graceful  appearance 
which  his  splendid  horsemanship,  and  handsome,  although 
strongly  defined,  features,  his  bushy  whiskers,  and  ample 
mustache,  tended  to  enhance. 

"  Henry,  on  his  side,  wore  a  vest  of  crimson  velvet  slashed 
with  white  satin,  and  buttoned  down  the  chest  with  studs 
composed  of  large  and  precious  jewels  ;  and  his  round  velvet 
toque  or  hat  was  surmounted  by  a  profuse  plume  which  floated 
on  the  wind,  save  where  it  was  confined  by  a  star  of  brilliants. 
His  figure,  although  more  bulky  than  that  of  his  brother 
monarch,  was  still  well  proportioned ;  his  movements  were 
elastic  and  unembarrassed  ;  and  his  face  attractive  from  the 
frankness  of  its  expression,  the  singular  brightness  of  his 
eyes,  and  the  luxuriance  of  his  hair  and  beard,  which  he  wore 
in  a  dense  fringe  beneath  his  chin,  and  which  was  at  that 
period  less  red  than  golden. 

"  The  mutual  scrutiny  of  the  two  young  sovereigns  lasted 
only  a  moment ;  in  the  next  they  were  in  each  other's  arms, 
each  straining  from  the  saddle  to  embrace  his  brother  mon- 
arch. The  horse  of  Henry  swerved  for  an  instant,  impatient 
of  the  impediment,  but  the  hand  of  Francis  firmly  grasped 
the  rein  which  its  rider  had  suffered  to  escape  him  ;  and  after 
a  renewed  exchange  of  courtesies,  the  attendant  equerries 
were  summoned  to  hold  the  stirrups  of  their  royal  masters  as 
they  alighted.  On  gaining  their  feet,  the  two  kings  ex- 
changed another  embrace ;  and  then,  arm-in-arm,  they  pro- 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GOLD.         109 

ceeded  to  the  pavilion  of  audience,   followed  each  by  his 
selected  witnesses." 

If  the  reader  desires  a  further  description  of  this  gorgeous, 
but  nearly  useless,  spectacle,  he  is  referred  to  a  remarkably 
picturesque  passage  in  "  Monk  and  Knight:  an  Historical 
Study  in  Fiction,"  by  Dr.  Frank  W.  Gunsaulus. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS. 
1520-1521. 

THE  most  significant  point  in  the  mediatorial 
policy  of  "VVolsey  was  the  fact  that  it  threw  the 
Papacy  entirely  into  the  shade.  What  Wolsey 
was  doing  was  the  traditional  business  of  the  Pope, 
who  could  not  openly  gainsay  a  policy  which  he 
was  bound  to  profess  coincided  with  his  own.  So 
Leo  X.  followed  Wolsey's  lead  of  keeping  on  good 
terms  with  France  and  the  Emperor  alike;  but 
Leo  had  no  real  wish  for  peace.  He  wished  to 
gain  something  in  Italy  for  the  Medici,  and  nothing 
was  to  be  gained  while  France  and  Spain  suspended 
hostilities.  Only  in  time  of  war  could  he  hope  to 
carry  out  his  own  plans  by 'balancing  one  combat- 
ant against  the  other.  Charles's  ambassador  was 
not  wrong  in  saying  that  Leo  hated  Wolsey  more 
than  any  other  man ;  and  Leo  tried  to  upset  his 
plans  by  drawing  nearer  to  the  imperial  side. 

110 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  HI 

It  required  very  little  to  provoke  war  between 
Francis  and  Charles ;  either  would  begin  the  attack 
if  the  conditions  were  a  little  more  favorable,  or  if 
he  could  secure  an  ally.  But  Charles  was  weak 
owing  to  the  want  of  unity  of  interest  in  his  un- 
wieldy dominions.  Germany  was  disturbed  by  the 
opinions  of  Luther ;  *  Spain  was  disturbed  by  a  re- 

*  Martin  Luther  (1483-1546)  was  the  originator  and  leader 
of  the  German  reformation.  He  was  born  at  Eisleben,  the 
son  of  a  miner,  and  was  very  poor.  While  in  the  university 
of  Erfurt,  he  manifested  absorbing  interest  in  the  solitary 
copy  of  the  Bible  that  was  in  the  library,  chained  there  for 
safe-keeping.  An  experience  of  a  dangerous  illness,  and  the 
sudden  death  of  a  friend  who  was  killed  by  a  stroke  of  light- 
ning, touched  his  conscience,  and  he  vowed  to  give  himself 
to  the  monastic  life.  Accordingly  in  1505  he  entered  the 
Augustinian  monastery  at  Erfurt.  He  was  later  appointed 
professor  of  philosophy  in  the  university  of  Wittenberg.  In 
1510  he  visited  Rome,  and  the  luxury  and  vice  which  he  saw 
abounding  in  that  city,  where  he  had  imagined  everything  to 
be  holy  and  apostolic,  were  a  great  shock  to  his  feelings,  and 
he  more  fully  adopted  the  theology  of  Augustine,  from  whom 
the  monastic  order  derived  its  name,  and  especially  the 
cardinal  principle  of  salvation  by  faith.  In  1517  one  Tetzel, 
a  commissioner  of  Pope  Leo  X.,  was  selling  indulgences  in  a 
way  that  roused  all  of  Luther's  indignation  ;  for,  in  order  to 
increase  the  sale  of  his  spiritual  wares,  Tetzel  claimed  that 
these  indulgences  absolved  the  purchasers  from  all  conse- 
quences of  sin,  both  here  and  hereafter.  Following  the 
customs  of  the  universities  of  the  day,  Luther  wrote  out 
ninety-five  theses  in  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  indulgences, 
posted  them  upon  the  door  of  the  church,  offering  to  defend 
the  same  in  public  debate  against  all  comers.  This  may  be 
called  the  beginning  of  Protestantism,  for  it  was  the  most 
conspicuous  and  emphatic  protest  of  that  age  against  the 


112  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

volt  of  the  cities  against  long-standing  misgovern- 
ment.  Charles  was  not  ready  for  war,  nor  was 
Francis  much  better  provided.  His  coffers  were 

doctrines  and  practices  of  the  Catholic  Church.  The  opening 
of  this  question  involved  Luther  in  violent  controversies. 

Luther  was  summoned  to  Rome  to  answer  charges  of 
heresy,  but  he  refused  to  go.  The  Pope  issued  a  bull  con- 
demning Luther's  teachings,  but  Luther,  in  the  presence  of  a 
great  crowd  of  professors,  students,  and  others,  ostentatiously 
burned  the  bull  and  with  it  the  decretals  and  canons  relating 
to  the  Pope's  supreme  authority.  The  breach  between  him 
and  the  authorities  of  the  Church  was  now  too  wide  to  be  re- 
paired. He  was  summoned  for  trial  before  the  Diet  of 
Worms.  Though  warned  that  it  would  be  unsafe  for  him  to 
go,  he  sturdily  replied,  "  Though  the  devils  in  Worms  were 
as  thick  as  the  tiles  on  the  roofs,  yet  I  would  go  !  "  When 
called  upon  to  recant,  he  refused  to  do  so  unless  it  could  be 
shown  from  the  Scriptures  that  he  was  in  error.  "  Thereon  I 
stand,"  he  said,  "and  cannot  do  otherwise.  God  help  me. 
Amen." 

On  his  return  from  Worms  he  was  captured  by  a  band  of 
masked  men  who  confined  him  in  the  castle  of  Wartburg. 
This  was  an  act  of  his  friends,  who  adopted  this  device  as  a 
means  of  protecting  him.  He  remained  in  that  castle  nearly 
a  year,  which  gave  him  time  to  push  forward  his  work  of 
translating  the  Scriptures  into  the  German  tongue,  and  to 
arrange  his  system  of  theology.  Luther's  translation  of  the 
Bible  is  regarded  as  the  fixing  of  the  standard  of  German 
literature.  In  1525,  having  previously  withdrawn  from  the 
monastic  order,  he  married  Catharine  von  Bora,  an  ex-nun. 

The  influence  of  Luther's  teachings  spread  rapidly  over  the 
neighboring  countries  of  Europe,  including  Denmark, 
Sweden.  Moravia,  and  Bohemia.  But  the  Protestants  were 
weak  in  neglecting  to  present  a  united  front  against  the 
Catholic  power.  The  German  reformers  did  not  act  in  unison 
with  the  followers  of  Zwingli  in  Switzerland,  or  the  Hugue- 
nots of  France ;  while  the  Pope,  on  the  other  hand,  was  al- 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.       H3 

empty  through  his  lavish  expenditure,  and  his 
Government  was  not  popular.  Really,  though  both 
wished  for  war,  neither  was  prepared  to  be  the  ag- 
gressor; both  wanted  the  vantage  of  seeming  to 
fight  in  self-defence. 

It  was  obvious  that  Charles  had  made  a  high  bid 
for  the  friendship  of  England  when  he  offered  him- 
self as  the  husband  of  the  Princess  Mary.  Wolsey 
had  taken  care  that  Francis  was  informed  of  this 
offer,  which  necessarily  led  to  a  long  negotiation 
with  the  imperial  Court.  Really  Charles's  mar- 
riage projects  were  rather  complicated ;  he  was  be- 
trothed to  Charlotte  of  France;  he  had  made  an 
offer  for  Mary  of  England ;  but  he  wished  to  marry 
Isabella  of  Portugal  for  no  loftier  reason  than  the 
superior  attractions  of  her  dowry.  His  proposal  for 
Mary  of  England  was  prompted  by  nothing  save  the 

ways  able  to  command  the  full  powers  and  resources  of  the 
Church.  This  is  the  real  cause  of  the  arrest  of  the  progress 
of  the  Reformation. 

Luther  died  at  Eisleben  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age. 
Since  his  death,  the  Protestants  of  Europe  have  held  their 
own,  but  they  have  made  little  progress  territorially.  An 
indirect  but  most  important  result  of  his  influence  is  the 
moral  and  spiritual  improvement  of  the  Catholic  Church 
which,  in  the  period  of  more  than  350  years  that  have  elapsed 
since  his  time,  has  never  again  sunk  to  a  moral  level  so  low 
as  it  maintained  at  that  time.  While  other  influences  were 
at  work,  much  of  this  beneficent  result  is  undoubtedly  due  to 
the  emphatic  protest  of  Luther  and  his  followers. 
8 


114  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

desire  to  have  Henry  as  his  ally  against  France ;  if  he 
could  manage  by  fair  promises  to  induce  Henry  to 
go  to  war  his  purpose  would  be  achieved,  and  he 
could  still  go  in  quest  of  the  Portuguese  dower. 
So  when  Tunstal,  the  Master  of  the  Bolls,  went  as 
English  envoy  to  discuss  the  matter,  Charles's  Coun- 
cil raised  all  sorts  of  difficulties.  Let  the  English 
king  join  a  league  with  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor 
against  France;  then  the  Pope  would  grant  his 
dispensation,  which  was  necessary,  owing  to  the 
relationship  between  Charles  and  Mary.  Tunstal 
was  bidden  by  Wolsey  to  refuse  such  conditions. 
England  would  not  move  until  the  marriage  had 
been  concluded,  and  would  not  join  in  any  league 
with  the  Pope  till  his  dispensation  was  in  Henry's 
hand.  The  separate  alliance  of  England  and  the 
Emperor  must  be  put  beyond  doubt  to  England's 
satisfaction  before  anything  else  could  be  consid- 
ered. Wolsey  commissioned  Tunstal  to  adopt  a 
lofty  tone.  "  It  would  be  great  folly,"  he  says, 
"  for  this  young  prince,  not  being  more  surely  set- 
tled in  his  dominions,  and  so  ill-provided  with  treas- 
ure and  good  councillors,  the  Pope  also  being  so 
brittle  and  variable,  to  be  led  into  war  for  the 
pleasure  of  his  ministers."  Truly  Wolsey  thought 
he  had  taken  the  measure  of  those  with  whom  he 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.      H5 

dealt,  and  spoke  with  sufficient  plainness  when  oc- 
casion needed.  But  Charles's  chancellor,  Gatti- 
nara,  a  Piedmontese,  who  was  rising  into  power, 
was  as  obstinate  as  Wolsey,  and  rejected  the  Eng- 
lish proposals  with  equal  scorn.  "  Your  master," 
he  said  to  Tunstal,  "  would  have  the  Emperor 
break  with  France,  but  would  keep  himself  free; 
he  behaves  like  a  man  with  two  horses,  one  of 
which  he  rides,  and  leads  the  other  by  the  hand. ' ' 
It  was  clear  that  nothing  could  be  done,  and  Wol- 
sey with  some  delight  recalled  Tunstal  from  his  em- 
bassy. The  closer  alliance  with  the  Emperor  was 
at  an  end  for  the  present;  he  had  shown  again 
that  England  would  only  forego  her  mediating 
position  on  her  own  terms. 

At  the  same  time  he  dealt  an  equal  measure  of 
rebuff  to  France.  Before  the  conference  at  Guisnes 
Francis  had  done  some  work  towards  rebuilding 
the  ruined  walls  of  Ardres  *  on  the  French  frontier. 
After  the  conference  the  work  was  continued  till 
England  resented  it  as  an  unfriendly  act.  Francis 
was  obliged  to  give  way,  and  order  the  building  to 
stopped.  Neither  Francis  nor  Charles  were  allowed 


*  Ardres  is  a  small  village  about  ten  miles  south-east  of 
Calais.  Near  it  was  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold.  Its  pop- 
ulation at  present  is  a  little  over  2,000. 


116  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

to  presume  on  the  complacency  of  England,  nor 
use  their  alliance  with  her  to  further  their  own  pur- 
poses. 

The  general  aspect  of  affairs  was  so  dubious  that 
it  was  necessary  for  England  to  be  prepared  for 
any  emergency,  and  first  of  all  Scotland  must  b 
secured  as  far  as  possible.  Since  the  fall  of  Jaine^ 
IY.  at  Flodden  Field,  Scotland  had  been  internally 
unquiet.  Queen  Margaret  gave  birth  to  a  son  a 
few  months  after  her  husband's  death,  and,  to  se- 
cure her  position,  took  the  unwise  step  of  marrying 
the  Earl  of  Angus.  The  enemies  of  Angus  and 
the  national  party  in  Scotland  joined  together  to 
demand  that  the  Regency  should  be  placed  in 
firmer  hands,  and  they  summoned  from  France  the 
Duke  of  Albany,*  a  son  of  the  second  son  of  James 

*  Queen  Margaret's  second  marriage  took  place  August  6, 
1514,  or  within  a  year  of  the  battle  of  Flodden  Field  where 
her  husband,  James  IV.,  was  slain.  "The  Scottish  Lords," 
says  Froude,  ' '  could  not  tolerate  in  one  of  themselves  the 
position  of  husband  of  the  regent,  and  a  second  parliament 
immediately  pronounced  her  deposition,  and  called  in  as  her 
successor  the  late  king's  cousin,  the  Duke  of  Albany,  who,  in 
the  event  of  the  deaths  of  the  two  princes,  stood  next  in 
blood  to  the  crown.  Albany,  who  had  lived  from  his  infancy 
on  the  continent, — French  in  his  character  and  French  in  his 
sympathies, — brought  with  him  a  revolution  inimical  in  every 
way  to  English  interests.  His  conduct  soon  gave  rise  to  the 
greatest  alarm.  The  royal  children  were  taken  from  the 
custody  of  their  mother,  who  with  her  husband  was  obliged 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS. 

.III.,  who  had  been  born  in  exile,  and  was  French 
in  all  the  traditions  of  his  education.  When  Albany 
came  to  Scotland  as  Regent,  Queen  Margaret  and 
Angus  were  so  assailed  that  Margaret  had  to  flee  to 
England  for  refuge,  1515,  leaving  her  son  in 


to  find  refuge  for  a  time  in  England  ;  and  the  Duke  of  Roth- 
say,  the  younger  of  the  two,  dying  immediately  after,  sus- 
picions of  foul  play  were  naturally  aroused.  The  prince  was 
openly  said  to  have  been  murdered  ;  the  remaining  brother, 
who  remained  between  Albany  and  the  crown,  it  was  ex- 
pected would  soon  follow  ;  and  a  tragedy  would  be  repeated 
which  England  as  well  as  Scotland  had  too  lately  witnessed 
[i.e.  the  death  of  the  princes  who  were  murdered  in  the  Tower 
by  order  of  Richard  III.]  .  .  .  The  Queen  sent  warning  [to 
the  Scottish  nobles  through  Surrey]  that  the  life  of  the  young 
king  was  in  danger.  In  the  beginning  of  December  it  was 
expected  either  that  he  would  be  poisoned  or  that  Albany 
would  carry  him  away  to  France.  On  the  27th  a  stormy 
council  was  held  at  Stirling,  where  Albany  attempted  his 
usual  shift  in  difficulty,  and  required  five  months'  leave  of 
absence  to  go  to  Paris.  This  time  the  nobles  refused  to  be 
left  to  bear  the  consequences  of  the  regent's  weakness.  If  he 
went  again  his  departure  should  be  final ;  nor  should  he 
depart  at  all  unless  the  French  garrisons  were  withdrawn. 
The  duke,  *  in  marvelous  great  anger  and  foam,'  agreed  to 
remain  ;  but  his  cause  sank  daily  and  misfortunes  thickened 
about  him.  He  was  without  the  means  to  support  the  French 
auxiliaries.  They  were  obliged  to  shift  as  they  could  for 
their  own  security.  Some  escaped  to  their  own  country ; 
others,  sent  away  in  unseaworthy  vessels,  were  driven  among 
the  Western  Islands,  engaged  in  piracy,  and  were  destroyed 
in  detail.  At  length,  for  the  last  time,  on  the  20th  May, 
[1524]  Albany  turned  his  back  upon  the  country  with  which 
he  had  connected  himself  only  to  his  own  and  others'  misery. 
He  sailed  away,  and  came  again  no  more. 


118  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Albany's  care.  She  stayed  in  England  till  the 
middle  of  1517,  when  she  was  allowed  to  return  to 
Scotland  on  condition  that  she  took  no  part  in  public 
affairs.  About  the  same  time  Albany  returned  to 
France,  somewhat  weary  of  his  Scottish  charge. 
By  his  alliance  with  Francis  Henry  contrived  that 
Albany  should  not  return  to  Scotland ;  but  he  could 
not  contrive  to  give  his  sister  Margaret  the  political 
wisdom  which  was  needed  to  draw  England  and 
Scotland  nearer  together.  Margaret  quarrelled 
with  her  husband  Angus,  and  only  added  another 
element  of  discord  to  those  which  previously  ex- 
isted. The  safest  way  for  England  to  keep  Scot- 
land helpless  was  to  encourage  forays  on  the 
Border.  The  Warden  of  the  Western  Marches, 
Lord  Dacre  of  Na  worth,  was  admirably  adapted  to 
work  with  Wolsey  for  this  purpose.  Without 
breaking  the  formal  peace  which  existed  between 
the  two  nations,  he  developed  a  savage  and  syste- 
matic warfare,  waged  in  the  shape  of  Border  raids, 
which  was  purposely  meant  to  devastate  the  Scot- 
tish frontier,  so  as  to  prevent  a  serious  invasion 
from  the  Scottish  side.  Still  Henry  VIII.  was  most 
desirous  to  keep  Scotland  separate  from  France ;  but 
the  truce  with  Scotland  expired  in  November,  1520. 
Wolsey  would  gladly  have  turned  the  truce  into  a 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  119 

perpetual  peace;  but  Scotland  still  clung  to  its 
French  alliance,  and  all  that  Wolsey  could  achieve 
was  a  prolongation  of  the  truce  till  1522.  He  did 
so,  however,  with  the  air  of  one  who  would  have 
preferred  war ;  and  Francis  I.  was  induced  to  urge 
the  Scots  to  sue  for  peace,  and  accept  as  a  favor 
what  England  was  only  too  glad  to  grant. 

At  the  same  time  an  event  occurred  in  England 
which  showed  in  an  unmistakable  way  the  deter- 
mination of  Henry  to  go  his  own  way  and  allow  no 
man  to  question  it.  In  April,  1520,  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  one  of  the  wealthiest  of  the  English 
nobles,  was  imprisoned  on  an  accusation  of  high 
treason.  In  May  he  was  brought  to  trial  before 
his  peers,  was  found  guilty,  and  was  executed.  The 
charges  against  him  were  trivial  if  true;  the  wit- 
nesses were  members  of  his  household  who  bore 
him  a  grudge.  But  the  king  heard  their  testimony  in 
his  Council,  and  committed  the  duke  to  the  Tower. 
None  of  the  nobles  of  England  dared  differ  from 
their  imperious  master.  If  the  king  thought  fit 
that  Buckingham  should  die,  they  would  not  run 
the  risk  of  putting  any  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the 
royal  will.  Trials  for  treason  under  Henry  VIII. 
were  mere  formal  acts  of  registration  of  a  decision 
already  formed. 


120  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  no  doubt,  was  a  weak 
and  foolish  man,  and  may  have  done  and  said 
many  foolish  things.  He  was  in  some  sense  justi- 
fied in  regarding  himself  as  the  nearest  heir  to  the 
English  throne  if  Henry  left  no  children  to  succeed 
him.  Henry  had  been  married  for  many  years,  and 
as  yet  there  was  no  surviving  child  save  the  Prin- 
cess Mary.  It  was  unwise  to  talk  about  the  suc- 
cession to  the  Crown  after  Henry's  death ;  it  was 
criminal  to  disturb  the  minds  of  Englishmen  who 
had  only  so  lately  won  the  blessings  of  internal 
peace.  If  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  had  really 
done  so,  he  would  not  be  undeserving  of  punish- 
ment ;  but  the  evidence  against  him  was  slight,  and 
its  source  was  suspicious.  No  doubt  Buckingham 
was  incautious,  and  made  himself  a  mouthpiece  of 
the  discontent  felt  by  the  nobles  at  the  French  alli- 
ance and  their  own  exclusion  from  affairs.  No 
doubt  he  denounced  Wolsey,  who  sent  him  a  mes- 
sage that  he  might  say  what  he  liked  against  him- 
self, but  warned  him  to  beware  what  he  said  against 
the  king.  It  does  not  seem  that  Wolsey  took 
any  active  part  in  the  proceedings  against  the 
Duke,  but  he  did  not  do  anything  to  save  him. 
The  matter  was  the  king's  matter,  and  as  such  it 
was  regarded  by  all.  The  nobles,  who  probably 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  121 

agreed  with  Buckingham's  opinions,  were  unani- 
mous in  pronouncing  his  guilt;  and  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  with  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks,  con- 
demned him  to  his  doom.  The  mass  of  the  people 
were  indifferent  to  his  fate,  and  were  willing  that 
the  king  should  be  sole  judge  of  the  precautions 
necessary  for  his  safety,  with  which  the  internal 
peace  and  outward  glory  of  England  was  entirely 
identified.  Charles  and  Francis  stood  aghast  at 
Henry's  strong  measures,  and  were  surprised  that 
he  could  do  things  in  such  a  high-handed  manner 
with  impunity.  If  Henry  intended  to  let  the  states- 
men of  Europe  know  that  he  was  not  to  be  diverted 
from  his  course  by  fear  of  causing  disorders  at  home 
he  thoroughly  succeeded.  The  death  of  Bucking- 
ham was  a  warning  that  those  who  crossed  the 
king's  path  and  hoped  to  thwart  his  plans  by  petu- 
lant opposition  were  playing  a  game  which  would 
only  end  in  their  own  ruin.* 

*  "  In  1515,  when  Giustiniani,  the  Venetian  ambassador 
was  at  court,  the  Dukes  of  Buckingham,  of  Suffolk,  and 
of  Norfolk,  were  also  mentioned  to  him  as  having  each  of 
them  hopes  of  the  crown.  Buckingham,  meddling  prema- 
turely in  the  dangerous  game,  lost  his  life  for  it." — FROUDE. 

"In  the  spring  of  1521,  the  world  was  startled  by  the  arrest, 
trial,  and  execution  (11  May)  of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  for 
treason.  As  the  crime  imputed  to  him,  even  in  the  indict- 
ment, was  mainly  that  he  listened  to  prophecies  of  the  king's 


122  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Free  from  any  fear  of  opposition  at  home,  Wol- 
sey  could  now  give  his  attention  to  his  difficult  task 
abroad.  Charles  V.  had  been  crowned  at  Aachen, 
and  talked  of  an  expedition  to  Rome  to  receive 
the  imperial  crown.  Francis  I.  was  preparing  for 
a  campaign  to  assert  the  French  claims  on  Milan. 
Meanwhile  he  wished  to  hamper  Charles  without 
openly  breaking  the  peace.  He  stirred  up  a  band 
of  discontented  barons  to  attack  Luxembourg,  and 
aided  the  claimant  to  the  crown  of  Navarre  to  enter 
his  inheritance.  War  seemed  now  inevitable ;  but 
Wolsey  remained  true  to  his  principles,  and  urged 
upon  both  kings  that  they  should  submit  their  dif- 
ferences to  the  mediation  of  England.  Charles  was 
busied  with  the  revolt  of  the  Spanish  towns,  and 
was  not  unwilling  to  gain  time.  After  a  show  of 
reluctance  he  submitted  to  the  English  proposals ; 
but  Francis,  rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of  success  in 
Luxembourg  and  Navarre,  refused  on  the  ground 
that  Charles  was  not  in  earnest.  Still  Francis  was 
afraid  of  incurring  England's  hostility,  and  quailed 
before  Wolsey's  threat  that  if  France  refused  medi- 
ation, England  would  be  driven  to  side  with  the 


death  and  his  own  succession  to  the  crown,  his  fate  proved 
the  king's  excessive  jealousy  and  power.  From  that  day  the 
mobility  were  completely  cowed." — GAIRDNEK. 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  123 

Emperor.  In  June,  1521,  he  reluctantly  assented  to 
a  conference  to  be  held  at  Calais,  over  which  Wol- 
sey  should  preside,  and  decide  between  the  pleas 
urged  by  representatives  of  the  two  hostile  mon- 
archs. 

If  "Wolsey  triumphed  at  having  reached  his  goal, 
his  triumph  was  of  short  duration.  He  might  dis- 
play himself  as  a  mediator  seeking  to  establish 
peace,  but  he  knew  that  peace  was  well-nigh  im- 
possible. While  the  negotiations  were  in  progress 
for  the  conference  which  was  to  resolve  differences, 
events  were  tending  to  make  war  inevitable.  When 
Wolsey  began  to  broach  his  project,  Francis  was 
desirous  of  war  and  Charles  was  anxious  to  defer  it ; 
but  Charles  met  with  some  success  in  obtaining 
promises  of  help  from  Germany  in  the  Diet  of 
Worms,*  and  when  that  was  over,  he  heard  welcome 

*  "  On  the  6th  of  January,  1521,  Charles  assembled  his  first 
diet  at  Worms,  where  he  presided  in  person  ...  In 
order  to  direct  the  affairs  of  the  empire  during  the  absence 
of  Charles,  a  council  of  regency  was  established  ...  At  the 
same  time  an  aid  of  20,000  foot  and  4,000  horse  was  granted, 
to  accompany  the  emperor  in  his  expedition  to  Rome ;  but 
the  diet  endeavored  to  prevent  him  from  interfering,  as 
Maximilian  had  done,  in  the  affairs  of  Italy,  by  stipulating 
that  these  troops  were  only  to  be  employed  as  an  escort,  and 
not  for  the  purpose  of  aggression." — COXE. 

The  most  important  fact  about  this  diet  was  the  appearance 
before  it  cf  Martin  Luther,  who  was  summoned  to  answer 
charges  of  heresy.  See  above,  p.  Ill,  note, 


124  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

news  which  reached  him  gradually  from  all  sides. 
The  revolt  of  the  Spanish  towns  was  dying  away ; 
the  aggressors  in  Luxembourg  had  been  repulsed ; 
the  troops  of  Spain  had  won  signal  successes  in 
Navarre.  His  embarrassments  were  certainly  dis- 
appearing on  all  sides.  More  than  this,  Pope  Leo 
X. ,  after  long  wavering,  made  up  his  mind  to  take 
a  definite  course.  No  doubt  he  was  sorely  vexed  to 
find  that  the  position  which  he  hankered  after  was 
occupied  by  England ;  and  if  he  were  to  step  back 
into  the  politics  of  Europe,  he  could  not  defer  a  de- 
cision much  longer.  He  had  wavered  between  an 
alliance  with  France  and  Venice  on  the  one  side,  or 
with  the  Emperor  on  the  other.  The  movement  of 
Luther  in  Germany  had  been  one  of  the  questions 
for  settlement  in  the  Diet  of  Worms,  and  Luther 
had  been  silenced  for  a  time.  Leo  awoke  in  some 
degree  to  the  gravity  of  the  situation,  and  saw  the 
advantage  of  making  common  cause  with  Charles, 
whose  help  in  Germany  was  needful.  Accordingly 
he  made  a  secret  treaty  with  the  Emperor  for  mu- 
tual defence,  and  was  anxious  to  draw  England  to 
the  same  side.  The  religious  question  was  begin- 
ning to  be  of  importance,  and  Francis  I.  was 
regarded  as  a  favorer  of  heretics,  whereas  Henry 
YIII.  was  strictly  orthodox,  was  busy  in  suppress- 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  125 

ing  Lutheran  opinions  at  home,  and  was  preparing 
his  book  which  should  confute  Luther  forever.* 

Another  circumstance  also  greatly  affected  the  at- 
titude of  Charles,  the  death  of  his  minister  Chtevres, 
who  had  been  his  tutor  in  his  youth,  and  continued 
to  exercise  great  influence  over  his  actions.  Charles 
was  cold,  reserved,  and  ill-adapted  to  make  friends. 
It  was  natural  that  one  whom  he  had  trusted  from 
his  boyhood  should  sway  his  policy  at  the  first. 
Chievres  was  a  Burgundian,  whose  life  had  been 
spent  in  saving  Burgundy  from  French  aggression, 
and  the  continuance  of  this  watchful  care  was  his 
chief  object  till  the  last.  His  first  thought  was  for 
Burgundy,  and  to  protect  that  he  wished  for  peace 
with  France  and  opposed  an  adventurous  policy. 
On  his  death  in  May,  1521,  Charles  V.  entered  on  a 
new  course  of  action.  He  felt  himself  for  the  first 


*  Luther  had  published  a  book  entitled  The  Babylonian 
Captivity.  In  reply  to  this  Henry  VIII.  published,  in  1521, 
his  Defence  of  the  Sacraments,  which  was  translated  into  the 
German  and  "  filled  the  whole  Christian  world  with  joy  and 
admiration."  In  recognition  of  this  work,  the  Pope  reward- 
ed the  English  king  with  the  title  of  Fidei  Defensor,  Defender 
of  the  Faith.  The  initial  letters  F.D.  are  stamped  on  all  the 
coins  of  Great  Britain  to  this  day,  though  the  sovereigns  are 
no  longer  defenders  of  the  faith  in  the  sense  intended  by  Leo 
X.  It  may  be  added  that  Luther  published  a  rejoinder  in 
which  he  called  his  opponent  a  fool  and  described  him  as  the 
Pharaoh  of  England. 


126  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

time  his  own  master,  and  took  his  responsibilities 
upon  himself.  He  seems  to  have  admitted  to  him- 
self that  the  advice  of  Chi6vres  had  not  always  been 
wise,  and  he  never  allowed  another  minister  to  gain 
the  influence  Chi6vres  had  possessed.  He  contented 
himself  with  officials  who  might  each  represent  some 
part  of  his  dominions,  and  whose  advice  he  used  in 
turns,  but  none  of  whom  could  claim  to  direct  his 
policy  as  a  whole. 

Chief  of  these  officials  was  a  Savoyard,  Mercu- 
rino  della  Gattinara,  whose  diplomatic  skill  was  now 
of  great  service  to  the  Emperor.  Gattinara  was  a 
man  devoted  to  his  master's  interests,  and  equal  to 
Wolsey  in  resoluteness  and  pertinacity.  Hitherto 
Wolsey  had  had  the  strongest  will  amongst  the 
statesmen  of  Europe,  and  had  reaped  all  the  advan- 
tages of  his  strength.  In  Gattinara  he  met  with  an 
opponent  who  was  in  many  ways  his  match.  It  is 
true  that  Gattinara  had  not  Wolsey's  genius,  and 
was  not  capable  of  Wolsey 's  far-reaching  schemes ; 
but  he  had  a  keen  eye  to  the  interests  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  could  neither  be  baffled  by  finesse  nor 
overborne  by  menaces.  His  was  the  hand  that  first 
checked  Wolsey 's  victorious  career. 

So  it  was  that  through  a  combination  of  causes 
the  prospects  of  peace  suddenly  darkened  just  as 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  127 

"Wolsey  was  preparing  to  stand  forward  as  the 
mediator  of  Europe.  Doubtless  he  hoped,  when 
first  he  put  forward  the  project  of  a  conference, 
that  it  might  be  the  means  of  restoring  his  original 
design  of  1518,  a  European  peace  under  the  guaran- 
tee of  England.  Since  that  had  broken  down  he 
had  been  striving  to  maintain  England's  influence 
by  separate  alliances ;  he  hoped  in  the  conference 
to  use  this  position  in  the  interests  of  peace.  But 
first  of  all  the  alliance  with  the  Emperor  must  be 
made  closer,  and  the  Emperor  showed  signs  of  de- 
manding that  this  closer  alliance  should  be  pur- 
chased by  a  breach  with  France.  If  war  was  in- 
evitable, England  had  most  to  gain  by  an  alliance 
with  Charles,  to  whom  its  friendship  could  offer 
substantial  advantages,  as  England,  in  case  of  war, 
could  secure  to  Charles  the  means  of  communicat- 
ing between  the  Netherlands  and  Spain,  which 
would  be  cut  off  if  France  were  hostile  and  the 
Channel  were  barred  by  English  ships.  Moreover 
the  prospect  of  a  marriage  between  Charles  and  the 
Princess  Mary  was  naturally  gratifying  to  Henry ; 
while  English  industry  would  suffer  from  any  breach 
of  trading  relations  with  the  Netherlands,  and  the 
notion  of  war  with  France  was  still  popular  with 
the  English. 


128  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

So  Wolsey  started  for  Calais  at  the  beginning  of 
August  with  the  intention  of  strengthening  Eng- 
land's alliance  with  the  Emperor,  that  thereby  Eng- 
land's influence  might  be  more  powerful.  Charles 
on  the  other  hand  was  resolved  on  war ;  he  did  not 
wish  for  peace  by  England's  mediation,  but  he 
wished  to  draw  England  definitely  into  the  league 
between  himself  and  the  Pope  against  France. 
Wolsey  knew  that  much  depended  on  his  own 
cleverness,  and  nerved  himself  for  the  greatest  cau- 
tion, as  Francis  was  beginning  to  be  suspicious  of 
the  preparations  of  Charles,  and  the  attitude  of 
affairs  was  not  promising  for  a  pacific  mediation. 

This  became  obvious  at  the  first  interview  of 
Wolsey  with  the  imperial  envoys,  foremost  amongst 
whom  was  Gattinara.  They  were  commissioned 
to  treat  about  the  marriage  of  Charles  with  the 
Princess  Mary,  and  about  a  secret  undertaking  for 
war  against  France ;  but  their  instructions  contained 
nothing  tending  to  peace.  The  French  envoys 
were  more  pacific,  as  war  was  not  popular  in  France. 

On  7th  August  the  conference  was  opened  under 
Wolsey's  presidency;  but  Gattinara  did  nothing 
save  dwell  upon  the  grievances  of  his  master  against 
France ;  he  maintained  that  France  had  been  the  ag- 
gressor in  breaking  the  existing  treaty ;  he  had  no 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  129 

powers  to  negotiate  peace  or  even  a  truce,  but  de- 
manded England's  help,  which  had  been  promised 
to  the  party  first  aggrieved.  The  French  retorted 
in  the  same  strain,  but  it  was  clear  that  they  were 
not  averse  to  peace,  and  were  willing  to  trust  to 
Wolsey's  mediation.  Wolsey  saw  that  he  could 
make  little  out  of  Gattinara.  He  intended  to  visit 
the  Emperor,  who  had  come  to  Bruges  for  the 
purpose,  as  soon  as  he  had  settled  with  the  impe- 
rial envoys  the  preliminaries  of  an  alliance ;  now  he 
saw  that  the  only  hope  of  continuing  the  conference 
lay  in  winning  from  Charles  better  terms  than  the 
stubborn  Gattinara  would  concede.  So  he  begged 
the  French  envoys  to  remain  in  Calais  while  he  vis- 
ited the  Emperor  and  arranged  with  him  personally 
for  a  truce.  As  the  French  were  desirous  of  peace, 
they  consented. 

On  16th  August  Wolsey  entered  Bruges  in  royal 
state,  with  a  retinue  of  1000  horsemen.  Charles 
came  to  the  city  gate  to  meet  him  and  receive  him 
almost  as  an  equal.  Wolsey  did  not  dismount  from 
his  horse,  but  received  Charles's  embrace  seated. 
He  was  given  rooms  in  Charles's  palace,  and  the 
next  day  at  church  Charles  sat  by  Wolsey 's  side 
and  shared  the  same  kneeling  stool  with  him.  Their 
private  conferences  dealt  solely  with  the  accord  be- 
9 


130  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

tween  England  and  the  Emperor.  Wolsey  saw  that 
it  was  useless  to  urge  directly  the  cause  of  peace, 
and  trusted  to  use  for  this  purpose  the  advantages 
which  his  alliance  would  give.  He  succeeded, 
however,  in  considerably  modifying  the  terms  which 
had  been  first  proposed.  He  diminished  the  amount 
of  dowry  which  Mary  was  to  receive  on  her  mar- 
riage, and  put  off  her  voyage  to  the  Emperor  till  she 
should  reach  the  age  of  twelve,  instead  of  seven, 
which  was  first  demanded.  Similarly  he  put  off 
the  period  when  England  should  declare  war  against 
France  till  the  spring  of  1523,  though  he  agreed 
that  if  war  was  being  waged  between  Francis  and 
Charles  in  November,  England  should  send  some 
help  to  Charles.  Thus  he  still  preserved  England's 
freedom  of  action,  and  deferred  a  rupture  with 
France.  Every  one  thought  that  many  things 
might  happen  in  the  next  few  months,  and  that 
England  was  pledged  to  little.  Further,  Wolsey 
guarded  the  pecuniary  interests  of  Henry  by  insisting 
that  if  France  ceased  to  pay  its  instalments  for  the 
purchase  of  Tournai,  the  Emperor  should  make 
good  the  loss.  He  also  stipulated  that  the  treaty 
should  be  kept  a  profound  secret,  so  that  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  conference  should  still  go  on. 

Wolsey  was  impressed  by  Charles,   and  gave  a 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  131 

true  description  of  his  character  to  Henry:  "  For 
his  age  he  is  very  wise  and  understanding  his  affairs, 
right  cold  and  temperate  in  speech,  with  assured 
manner,  couching  his  words  right  well  and  to  good 
purpose  when  he  doth  speak. ' J  We  do  not  know 
what  was  Charles's  private  opinion  of  Wolsey.  He 
can  scarcely  have  relished  Wolsey's  lofty  manner, 
for  Wolsey  bore  himself  with  all  the  dignity  of  a 
representative  of  his  king.  Thus,  the  King  of  Den- 
mark, Charles's  brother-in-law,  was  in  Bruges,  and 
sought  an  interview  with  Wolsey,  who  answered 
that  it  was  unbecoming  for  him  to  receive  in  his 
chamber  any  king  to  whom  he  was  not  commissioned ; 
if  the  King  of  Denmark  wished  to  speak  with  him, 
let  him  meet  him,  as  though  by  accident,  in  the 
garden  of  the  palace. 

When  the  provisions  of  the  treaty  had  been 
drafted,  Wolsey  set  out  for  Calais  on  26th  August, 
and  was  honorably  escorted  out  of  Bruges  by  the 
Emperor  himself.  On  his  return  the  business  of  the 
conference  began,  and  was  dragged  on  through 
three  weary  months.  The  imperial  envoys  natu- 
rally saw  nothing  to  be  gained  by  the  conference 
except  keeping  open  the  quarrel  with  France  till 
November,  when  Henry  was  bound  to  send  help  to 
the  Emperor  if  peace  were  not  made.  Wolsey  re- 


132  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

mained  true  to  his  two  principles :  care  for  English 
interests,  and  a  desire  for  peace.  He  secured  pro- 
tection for  the  fishery  of  the  Channel  in  case  of  war, 
and  he  cautiously  strove  to  lead  up  both  parties  to 
see  their  advantage  in  making  a  truce  if  they  could 
not  agree  upon  a  peace.  It  was  inevitable  that 
these  endeavors  should  bring  on  "Wolsey  the  suspi- 
cions of  both.  The  French  guessed  something  of  the 
secret  treaty  from  the  warlike  appearance  which 
England  began  to  assume,  and  cried  out  that  they 
were  being  deceived.  The  imperial  envoys  could 
not  understand  how  one  who  had  just  signed  a 
treaty  with  their  master,  could  throw  obstacles  in 
their  way  and  pursue  a  mediating  policy  of  his  own. 
Keally  both  sides  were  only  engaged  in  gaining 
time,  and  their  attention  was  more  fixed  upon 
events  in  the  field  than  on  any  serious  project  of 
agreement. 

When  in  the  middle  of  September  the  French 
arms  won  some  successes,  Gattinara  showed  himself 
inclined  to  negotiate  for  a  truce.  The  conference, 
which  hitherto  had  been  merely  illusory,  suddenly 
became  real,  and  Wolsey 's  wisdom  in  bargaining 
that  England  should  not  declare  war  against  France 
till  the  spring  of  1523  became  apparent.  He  could 
urge  on  Gattinara  that  it  would  be  wise  to  agree  to 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  133 

a  truce  till  that  period  was  reached ;  then  all  would 
be  straightforward.  So  Wolsey  adjourned  the 
public  sittings  of  the  conference,  and  negotiated 
privately  with  the  two  parties.  The  French  saw  in 
a  year's  truce  only  a  means  of  allowing  the  Em- 
peror to  prepare  for  war,  and  demanded  a  sub- 
stantial truce  for  ten  years.  Wolsey  used  all  his 
skill  to  bring  about  an  agreement,  and  induced 
Gattinara  to  accept  a  truce  for  eighteen  months, 
and  the  French  to  reduce  their  demands  to  four 
years.  But  Charles  raised  a  new  difficulty,  and 
claimed  that  all  conquests  made  in  the  war  should 
be  given  up.  The  only  conquest  was  Fontarabia, 
on  the  border  of  Navarre,  which  was  still  occupied 
by  the  French.  Francis  not  unnaturally  declined 
to  part  with  it  solely  to  obtain  a  brief  truce,  as 
Charles  had  no  equivalent  to  restore.  Wolsey  used 
every  argument  to  induce  the  Emperor  to  withdraw 
his  claim ;  but  he  was  obstinate,  and  the  conference 
came  to  an  end.  It  is  true  that  Wolsey  tried  to 
keep  up  appearances  by  concluding  a  truce  for 
a  month,  that  the  Emperor  might  go  to  Spain 
and  consult  his  subjects  about  the  surrender  of 
Fontarabia. 

So  Wolsey  departed  from  Calais  on  25th  Novem- 
ber, disappointed  and  worn  out.     As  he  wrote  him- 


134:  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

self,  c  <  I  have  been  so  sore  tempested  in  mind  by 
the  untowardness  of  the  chancellors  and  orators  on 
every  side,  putting  so  many  difficulties  and  obstacles 
to  condescend  to  any  reasonable  conditions  of  truce 
and  abstinence  of  war,  that  night  nor  day  I  could 
have  no  quietness  nor  rest."  There  is  no  doubt 
that  Wolsey  wrote  what  he  felt.  He  had  labored 
hard  for  peace,  and  had  failed.  If  he  hoped  that 
the  labors  of  the  conference  might  still  be  continued 
by  his  diplomacy  in  England,  that  hope  was  de- 
stroyed before  he  reached  London.  On  1st  Decem- 
ber the  imperial  troops  captured  Tournai,  which  they 
had  been  for  some  time  besieging,  and  news  came 
from  Italy  that  Milan  also  had  fallen  before  the 
forces  of  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope.  Charles  had 
seemed  to  Wolsey  unreasonable  in  his  obstinacy. 
He  had  refused  a  truce  which  he  had  every  motive 
of  prudence  for  welcoming ;  and  now  events  proved 
that  he  was  justified.  Not  only  had  Francis  been 
foiled  in  his  attempts  to  embarrass  his  rival,  but  suc- 
cess had  followed  the  first  steps  which  Charles  had 
taken  to  retaliate.  The  time  for  diplomacy  was 
past,  and  the  quarrel  must  be  decided  by  the 
sword. 

So  "Wolsey  saw  his    great  designs   overthrown. 
He  was  a  peace  minister  because  he  knew  that  Eng- 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  135 

land  had  nothing  to  gain  from  war.  He  had 
striven  to  keep  the  peace  of  Europe  by  means  of 
England's  mediation,  and  his  efforts  had  been  so  far 
successful  as  to  give  England  the  first  place  in  the 
councils  of  Europe.  But  Wolsey  hoped  more  from 
diplomacy  than  diplomacy  could  do.  Advice  and 
influence  can  do  something  to  check  the  outbreak 
of  war  when  war  is  not  very  seriously  designed ;  but 
in  proportion  as  great  interests  are  concerned,  at- 
tempts at  mediation  are  useless  unless  they  are  backed 
by  force.  England  was  not  prepared  for  war,  and 
had  no  troops  by  whom  she  could  pretend  to  enforce 
her  counsels.  When  the  two  rival  powers  began 
to  be  in  earnest,  they  admitted  England's  mediation 
only  as  a  means  of  involving  her  in  their  quarrel. 
Wolsey  was  only  the  first  of  a  long  series  of  English 
ministers  who  have  met  with  the  same  disappoint- 
ment from  the  same  reason.  England  in  Wolsey's 
days  had  the  same  sort  of  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
the  Continent  as  she  has  had  ever  since.  Wolsey 
first  taught  her  to  develop  that  interest  by  pacific 
counsels,  and  so  long  as  that  has  been  possible,  Eng- 
land has  been  powerful.  But  when  a  crisis  comes 
England  has  ever  been  slow  to  recognize  its  inevi- 
tableness ;  and  her  habit  of  hoping  against  hope  for 
peace  has  placed  her  in  an  undignified  attitude  for 


136  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

a  time,  has  drawn  upon  her  reproaches  for  duplicity, 
and  has  involved  her  in  war  against  her  will. 

This  was  now  the  net  result  of  Wolsey's  endeavors, 
a  result  which  he  clearly  perceived.  His  efforts  of 
mediation  at  Calais  had  been  entirely  his  own,  and 
he  could  confide  to  no  one  his  regret  and  his  disap- 
pointment. Henry  was  resolved  on  war  when  Wol- 
sey  first  set  forth,  and  if  Wolsey  had  succeeded  in 
making  a  truce,  the  credit  would  have  been  entirely 
his  own.  He  allowed  Henry  to  think  that  the  con- 
ference at  Calais  was  merely  a  pretext  to  gain  time  for 
military  preparations ;  if  a  truce  had  been  made  he 
would  have  put  it  down  to  the  force  of  circumstan- 
ces ;  as  his  efforts  for  a  truce  had  failed,  he  could  take 
credit  that  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to  establish  the 
king's  reputation  throughout  Christendom,  and  had 
fixed  the  blame  on  those  who  would  not  follow  his 
advice.  It  is  a  mark  of  Wolsey's  conspicuous  skill 
that  he  never  forgot  his  actual  position,  and  never  was 
so  entirely  absorbed  in  his  own  plans  as  not  to  leave 
himself  a  ready  means  for  retreat.  His  schemes 
had  failed ;  but  he  could  still  take  credit  for  having 
furthered  other  ends  which  were  contrary  to  his  own. 
Henry  was  well  contented  with  the  results  of  Wol- 
sey's mission,  and  showed  his  satisfaction  in  the  cus- 
tomary way  of  increasing  Wolsey's  revenues  at  the 


THE  CONFERENCE  OF  CALAIS.  137 

expense  of  the  Church.  The  death  was  announced 
of  the  Abbot  of  St.  Albans,  and  the  king,  in  answer 
to  Wolsey's  request,  ordered  the  monks  to  take 
Wplsey  for  their  abbot,  saying,  '  <  My  lord  cardinal 
has  sustained  many  charges  in  this  his  voyage,  and 
hath  expended  £10,000."  So  kings  were  served, 
and  so  they  recompensed  their  servants. 


CHAPTEE  VL 

THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE. 
1521-1523. 

THE  failure  of  Wolsey's  plans  was  due  to  the 
diplomacy  of  Gattinara  and  to  the  obstinacy  of 
Charles  Y. ,  who  showed  at  the  end  of  the  negotia- 
tions at  Calais  an  unexpected  readiness  to  appreciate 
his  obligations  towards  his  dominions  as  a  whole,  by 
refusing  to  abandon  Fontarabia  lest  thereby  he 
should  irritate  his  Spanish  subjects.  It  was  this 
capacity  for  large  consideration  that  gave  Charles 
Y.  his  power  in  the  future ;  his  motives  were  hard 
to  discover,  but  they  always  rested  on  a  view  of  his 
entire  obligations,  and  were  dictated  by  reasons 
known  only  to  himself.  Even  Wolsey  did  not  un- 
derstand the  Emperor's  motives,  which  seemed  to 
him  entirely  foolish.  He  allowed  himself  to  take 
up  a  haughty  position,  which  deeply  offended 
Charles,  who  exclaimed  angrily,  ' c  This  cardinal 
will  do  everything  his  own  way,  and  treats  me  as 

138 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  139 

though  I  were  a  prisoner."  Charles  treasured  up 
his  resentment,  of  which  Wolsey  was  entirely  un- 
conscious, and  was  determined  not  to  allow  so  mas- 
terful a  spirit  to  become  more  powerful. 

He  soon  had  an  opportunity  of  acting  on  this 
determination,  as  the  unexpected  death  of  Pope  Leo 
X.  on  1st  December  naturally  awakened  hopes  in 
Wolsey 's  breast.  It  was  impossible  that  the  fore- 
most statesman  in  Europe  should  not  have  had  the 
legitimate  aspiration  of  reaching  the  highest  office 
to  which  he  could  attain.  But  though  Wolsey  was 
ready  when  the  opportunity  came  to  press  his  own 
claims  with  vigor,  it  cannot  be  said  with  fairness 
that  his  previous  policy  had  been  in  anyway  di- 
rected to  that  end,  or  that  he  had  swerved  in  the 
least  from  his  own  path  to  further  his  chances  for 
the  papal  office.  Indeed  he  had  no  reason  for  so 
doing,  as  Leo  was  only  forty-six  j^ears  old  when  he 
died,  and  his  death  was  entirely  unforeseen.  More- 
over, we  know  that  when  the  Spanish  envoys 
offered  Wolsey  the  Emperor's  help  towards  the 
Papacy  in  1520,  Wolsey  refused  the  offer;  since 
then  Charles  at  Bruges  had  repeated  the  offer  with- 
out being  asked.  Now  that  a  vacancy  had  arisen, 
it  was  natural  for  Wolsey  to  attach  some  weight  to 
this  promise,  and  Henry  expressed  himself  warmly 


140  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

in  favor  of  Wolsey's  election,  and  urged  his  im- 
perial ally  to  work  by  all  means  for  that  end.  He 
sent  to  Rome  his  favorite  secretary  Pace  to  further 
it  by  pressing  representations  to  the  cardinals. 

It  does  not  seem  that  Wolsey  was  very  sanguine 
in  his  expectations  of  being  elected.  Leo  X.  had 
died  at  a  moment  of  great  importance  for  Charles 
Y. ;  in  fact  his  death  had  been  brought  about  by 
the  imprudence  which  he  showed  in  manifesting  his 
delight  at  the  success  of  the  imperial  arms  against 
Milan,  and  his  prospect  of  the  overthrow  of  France. 
It  was  necessary  for  Charles  that  a  Pope  should  be 
elected  who  would  hold  to  Leo's  policy,  and  would 
continue  the  alliance  with  England.  The  man  who 
held  in  his  hand  the  threads  of  Leo  X.'s  numerous 
intrigues  was  his  cousin,  Cardinal  Giulio  de'  Medici, 
and  Wolsey  admitted  the  advantages  to  be  gained 
by  his  election.  Wolsey  at  once  declared  that  he 
submitted  his  candidature  to  the  decision  of  Henry 
VIII.  and  the  Emperor ;  if  they  thought  that  he 
was  the  best  person  to  promote  their  interests  he 
would  not  shrink  from  the  labor;  but  he  agreed 
that  if  his  candidature  were  not  likely  to  be  accept- 
able to  the  cardinals,  the  two  rnonarchs  should  unite 
in  favor  of  Cardinal  Medici.  Charles's  ambassador 
wrote  him  that  it  would  be  well  to  act  carefully,  as 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE. 

Wolsey  was  watching  to  see  how  much  faith  he 
could  put  in  the  Emperor's  protestations  of  good- 
will. 

So  Charles  was  prepared,  and  acted  with  ambigu- 
ous caution.  He  put  off  communicating  with 
Henry  as  long  as  he  could ;  he  regretted  that  he 
was  in  the  Netherlands  instead  of  Germany,  whence 
he  could  have  made  his  influence  felt  in  Rome ;  he 
secretly  ordered  his  ambassador  in  Eome  to  press 
for  the  election  of  Cardinal  Medici,  but  gave  him  no 
definite  instructions  about  any  one  else ;  finally  he 
wrote  a  warm  letter  in  favor  of  Wolsey,  which  he 
either  never  sent  at  all,  or  sent  too  late  to  be  of  any 
use,  but  which  served  as  an  enclosure  to  satisfy 
Henry  YIIL  Wolsey  was  not  deceived  by  this, 
and  knew  how  papal  elections  might  be  influenced. 
He  told  the  Spanish  ambassador  that,  if  his  master 
were  in  earnest,  he  should  order  his  troops  to  ad- 
vance against  Rome,  and  should  command  the  cardi- 
nals to  elect  his  nominee;  he  offered  to  provide 
100,000  *  ducats  to  cover  the  expenses  of  such  ac- 
tion. When  it  came  to  the  point  Wolsey  was  a 
very  practical  politician,  and  was  under  no  illusions 
about  the  fair  pretences  of  free  choice  which  sur- 
rounded a  papal  election.  He  treated  it  as  a  matter 
*  $228,000. 


142  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

to  be  settled  by  pressure  from  outside,  according  to 
the  will  of  the  strongest.  There  is  something  re- 
voltingly  cynical  in  this  proposal.  No  doubt  many 
men  thought  like  Wolsey,  but  no  one  else  would 
have  had  the  boldness  to  speak  out.  Wolsey 's  out- 
spokenness was  of  no  avail  at  the  time,  but  it  bore 
fruits  afterwards.  He  taught  Henry  VIII.  to  con- 
ceive the  possibility  of  a  short  way  of  dealing  with 
refractory  popes.  He  confirmed  his  willing  pupil 
in  the  belief  that  all  things  may  be  achieved  by  the 
resolute  will  of  one  who  rises  above  prejudice  and 
faces  the  world  as  it  is.  When  he  fell  he  must  have 
recognized  that  it  was  himself  who  trained  the  arm 
which  smote  him. 

In  spite  of  "Wolsey's  advice  Charles  did  not  allow 
Spanish  influence  to  be  unduly  felt  in  the  proceed- 
ings of  the  conclave.  Karely  had  the  cardinals 
been  more  undecided,  and  when  they  went  into  the 
conclave  on  27th  December,  it  was  said  that  every 
one  of  them  was  a  candidate  for  the  Papacy.  The 
first  point  was  to  exclude  Cardinal  Medici,  and  it 
could  be  plausibly  urged  that  it  was  dangerous  to 
elect  two  successive  popes  from  the  same  family. 
Medici's  opponents  succeeded  in  making  his  election 
impossible,  but  could  not  agree  upon  a  candidate  of 
their  own ;  while  Medici  tried  to  bring  about  the 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  143 

election  of  some  one  who  would  be  favorable  to  the 
Emperor.  At  last  in  weariness  the  cardinals  turned 
their  thoughts  to  some  one  who  was  not  present. 
Wolsey  was  proposed,  and  received  seven  votes; 
but  Medici  was  waiting  his  time,  and  put  forward 
Cardinal  Adrian  of  Utrecht,  who  had  been  Charles's 
tutor,  and  was  then  governing  Spain  in  his  master's 
name.  Both  parties  agreed  on  him,*  chiefly  be- 

*  "  No  man  could  be  more  earnest  than  was  Adrian  VI.  in 
his  desire  to  ameliorate  the  grievous  condition  into  which 
Christendom  had  fallen  at  his  accession  .  .  .  But  to  reform 
the  world  is  not  so  light  a  task  ;  the  good  intentions  of  an  in- 
dividual, however  high  his  station,  can  do  but  little  towards 
such  a  consummation.  .  .  .  The  Pope  could  make  no  step  to- 
wards reform  without  seeing  himself  assailed  by  a  thousand 
difficulties.  .  .  .  Adrian  was  in  Rome  a  stranger  by  birth, 
nation,  and  the  habits  of  his  life,  to  the  element  in  which  he 
was  called  on  to  act ;  this  he  could  not  master  because  it  was 
not  familiar  to  him  he  did  not  comprehend  the  concealed  im- 
pulses of  its  existence.  He  had  been  welcomed  joyfully,  for 
the  people  told  each  other  that  he  had  some  five  thousand 
vacant  benefices  to  bestow,  and  all  were  willing  to  hope  for 
a  share.  But  never  did  a  Pope  show  himself  more  reserved 
in  this  particular.  Adrian  would  insist  on  knowing  to  whom 
it  was  that  he  gave  appointments  and  intrusted  with  offices. 
He  proceeded  with  scrupulous  conscientiousness,  and  disap- 
pointed innumerable  expectations.  By  the  first  decree  of  his 
pontificate  he  abolished  the  reversionary  rights  formerly  an- 
nexed to  ecclesiastical  dignities ;  even  those  which  had 
already  been  conceded,  he  revoked.  The  publication  of  this 
edict  in  Rome  could  not  fail  to  bring  a  crowd  of  enemies 
against  him.  Up  to  his  time  a  certain  freedom  of  speech  and 
of  writing  had  been  suffered  to  prevail  in  the  Roman  court : 
this  he  would  no  longer  tolerate.  The  exhausted  state  of  the 


144  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

cause  he  was  personally  unknown  to  any  of  the 
cardinals,  had  given  no  offence,  was  well  advanced 
in  years,  and  was  reckoned  to  be  of  a  quiet  dis- 
position, so  that  every  one  had  hopes  of  guiding 
his  counsels.  It  was  clear  that  the  imperialists 
were  strongest  in  the  conclave,  and  of  all  the  im- 
perialist candidates  Adrian  was  the  least  offensive 
to  the  French.  One  thing  is  quite  clear,  that 
Charles  V.  had  not  the  least  intention  of  helping 
"Wolsey. 

Wolsey  probably  knew  this  well  enough,  and  was 
not  disappointed.  He  bore  the  Emperor  no  ill-will 
for  his  lukewarmness ;  indeed  he  had  no  ground 
for  expecting  anything  else.  Wolsey 's  aim  was 
not  the  same  as  that  of  Charles,  and  Charles  had 
had  sufficient  opportunity  to  discover  the  difference 
between  them.  Probably  Wolsey  saw  that  the  alli- 

papal  exchequer,  and  the  numerous  demands  OD  it,  obliged 
him  to  impose  new  taxes.  This  was  considered  intolerable 
on  the  part  of  one  who  expended  so  sparingly.  Whatever  he 
did  was  unpopular  and  disapproved.  He  felt  this  deeply, 
and  it  reacted  on  his  character  ...  It  becomes  obvious  that 
not  to  Adrian  personally,  must  it  be  solely  attributed,  if  his 
times  were  so  unproductive  of  results.  The  papacy  was  en- 
compassed by  a  host  of  conflicting  claimants — urgent  and 
overwhelming  difficulties  that  would  have  furnished  infinite 
occupation,  even  to  a  man  more  familiar  with  the  medium  of 
action,  better  versed  in  men,  and  more  fertile  in  expedients, 
than  Adrian  VI."— VON  RANKE. 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  145 

ance  between  England  and  the  Emperor  would  not 
be  of  long  duration,  as  there  was  no  real  identity 
of  interests.  Henry  VIII.  was  dazzled  for  a  mo- 
ment with  the  prospect  of  asserting  the  English 
claims  on  France ;  he  was  glad  to  find  himself  at 
one  with  his  queen,  who  was  overjoyed  at  the  pros- 
pect of  a  family  alliance  with  her  own  beloved 
land  of  Spain.  The  English  nobles  rejoiced  at  an 
opportunity  to  display  their  prowess,  and  hoped  in 
time  of  war  to  recover  the  influence  and  position  of 
which  they  had  been  deprived  by  an  upstart  priest. 
The  sentiment  of  hostility  to  France  was  still  strong 
amongst  the  English  people,  and  the  allurements  of 
a  spirited  foreign  policy  were  many.  But  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact  England  was  ill  prepared  for  war ;  and 
though  the  people  might  throw  up  their  caps  at  first, 
they  would  not  long  consent  to  pay  for  a  war  which 
brought  them  no  profits.  And  the  profits  were  not 
likely  to  be  great,  for  Charles  had  no  wish  to  see 
England's  importance  increased.  He  desired  only 
English  help  to  achieve  his  own  purposes,  and  was 
no  more  trustworthy  as  an  ally  than  had  been  his 
grandfather  Ferdinand. 

However,  war    had  been  agreed  upon,  and  all 
that  Wolsey  could  do  was  to  try  and  put  off  its  dec- 
laration until   he  had  secured   sufficient  assurance 
10 


146  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

that  English  money  was  not  to  be  spent  to  no  pur- 
pose. Charles  Y.,  who  was  in  sore  straits  for 
money,  asked  for  a  loan  from  England,  to  which 
Wolsey  answered  that  England  could  not  declare 
war  till  the  loan  was  repaid.  He  insisted  that  no 
declaration  of  war  should  be  made  till  the  Emperor 
had  fulfilled  his  promise  to  pay  a  visit  to  England, 
a  promise  which  Charles's  want  of  money  rendered 
him  unable  for  some  time  to  keep. 

But  however  much  Wolsey  might  try  to  put  off 
the  declaration  of  war,  it  was  inevitable.  Francis 
could  not  be  expected,  for  all  Wolsey 's  fine  promises, 
to  continue  his  payments  for  Tournai  to  so  doubtful 
an  ally  as  Henry,  nor  could  he  resist  from  crippling 
England  as  far  as  he  could.  The  Duke  of  Albany 
went  back  to  Scotland;  and  in  the  beginning  of 
May  Francis  ordered  the  seizure  of  goods  lying  at 
Bordeaux  for  shipment  to  England.  This  led  to  re- 
taliation on  the  part  of  England,  and  war  was  de- 
clared against  France  on  28th  May,  1522. 

This  coincided  with  the  visit  of  Charles  Y.  to 
London,  where  he  was  magnificently  entertained  for 
a  month,  while  the  treaty  of  alliance  was  being 
finally  brought  into  shape  by  Wolsey  and  Gattinara. 
Wolsey  contented  himself  with  providing  that  the 
alliance  did  not  go  further  than  had  been  agreed  at 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE. 

Bruges,  and  that  England1  s  interests  were  secured 
by  an  undertaking  from  Charles  that  he  would  pay 
the  loss  which  Henry  VIII.  sustained  by  the  with- 
drawal of  the  French  instalments  for  TournaL 
When  the  treaty  was  signed  it  was  Wolsey  who,  as 
papal  legate,  submitted  both  princes  to  ecclesiastical 
censures  in  case  of  a  breach  of  its  provisions.  More- 
over, Charles  granted  Wolsey  a  pension  of  9000 
crowns  *  in  compensation  for  his  loss  from  Tournai, 
and  renewed  his  empty  promise  of  raising  him  to  the 
Papacy. 

It  was  one  thing  to  declare  war  and  another  to 
carry  it  on  with  good  effect.  England,  in  spite  of 
all  the  delays  which  Wolsey  had  contrived  to  inter- 
pose, was  still  unprepared.  It  was  late  in  the 
autumn  before  forces  could  be  put  in  the  field,  and 
the  troops  of  Charles  V.  were  too  few  for  a  joint 
undertaking  of  any  importance.  The  allies  content- 
ed themselves  with  invading  Picardy,  where  they 
committed  useless  atrocities,  burning  houses,  devasta- 
ting the  country,  and  working  all  the  mischief  that 
they  could.  They  did  not  advance  into  the  center 
of  France,  and  no  army  met  them  in  the  field ;  in 
the  middle  of  October  they  retired  ingloriously.  It 
is  hard  to  discover  the  purpose  of  such  an  expedi- 
*  $108,900. 


148  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

tion.  The  damage  done  was  not  enough  to  weaken 
France  materially,  and  such  a  display  of  barbarity 
was  ill  suited  to  win  the  French  people  to  favor 
Henry  YIII.'s  claim  to  be  their  rightful  lord.  If 
Francis  I.  had  been  unpopular  before,  he  was  now 
raised  to  the  position  of  a  national  leader  whose  hel- 
was  necessary  for  the  protection  of  his  subjects. 

The  futile  result  of  this  expedition  caused  mutual 
recriminations  between  the  new  allies.  The  imper- 
ialists complained  that  the  English  had  come  too 
late ;  the  English  answered  that  they  had  not  been 
properly  supported.  There  were  no  signs  of  mutual 
confidence;  and  the  two  ministers,  Wolsey  and 
Gattinara,  were  avowed  enemies,  and  did  not  con- 
ceal their  hostility.  The  alliance  with  the  Emperor 
did  not  show  signs  of  prospering  from  the  begin- 
ning. 

The  proceedings  of  the  Earl  of  Surrey  and  the 
direction  of  the  campaign  were  not  Wolsey's  con- 
cern. He  was  employed  nearer  home,  in  keeping 
a  watchful  eye  on  Scotland,  which  threatened  to  be 
a  hindrance  to  Henry  YIII.'s  great  undertakings 
abroad.  The  return  of  the  Duke  of  Albany  in  De- 
cember, 1521,  was  a  direct  threat  of  war.  Albany 
was  nominally  regent,  but  had  found  his  office 
troublesome,  and  had  preferred  to  spend  the  last 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  149 

five  years  in  the  gaieties  of  the  French  Court  rather 
than  among  the  rugged  nobles  of  Scotland.  They 
were  years  when  France  was  at  peace  with  England 
and  had  little  interest  in  Scottish  affairs ;  so  Queen 
Margaret  might  quarrel  with  her  husband  at  leisure, 
while  the  Scottish  lords  distributed  themselves  be- 
tween the  two  parties  as  suited  them  best.  But 
when  war  between  France  and  England  was  ap- 
proaching, the  Duke  of  Albany  was  sent  back  by 
Francis  I.  to  his  post  as  agent  for  France  in  Scot- 
tish affairs.  Queen  Margaret  welcomed  him  with 
joy,  hoping  that  he  would  further  her  plan  of  gain- 
ing a  divorce  from  the  Earl  of  Angus.  Before  this 
union  of  forces  the  English  party  in  Scotland  was 
powerless.  It  was  in  vain  that  Henry  VIII.  tried 
by  menaces  to  influence  either  his  sister  or  the  Scot- 
tish lords.  As  soon  as  the  English  forces  sailed  for 
France  Albany  prepared  to  invade  England. 

It  was  lucky  for  Henry  VIII.  that  he  was  well 
served  on  the  Borders  by  Lord  Dacre  of  Na worth, 
who  managed  to-  show  the  Scots  the  measure  of 
Albany's  incapacity.  Dacre  began  negotiations 
with  Albany,  to  save  time;  and  when,  in  Sep- 
tember, the  Scottish  forces  passed  the  Border, 
Albany  was  willing  to  make  a  truce.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  England  was  totally  unprepared  to  repel  an 


150  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

» 

invasion,  and  Albany  might  have  dictated  his  own 
terms.  But  Dacre,  in  Carlisle,  which  he  could  not 
defend,  maintained  his  courage,  and  showed  no  signs 
of  fear.  He  managed  to  blind  Albany  to  the  real 
state  of  affairs,  and  kept  him  from  approaching  to 
the  crumbling  walls  of  Carlisle.  He  advanced  to 
the  Debatable  Land  to  meet  him,  and  "  with  a  high 
voice"  demanded  the  reason  of  his  coming;  and 
the  parley  thus  begun  ended  in  the  conclusion  of  a 
month's  truce.  Wolsey  was  overjoyed  at  this  re- 
sult, but  yet  found  it  necessary  to  intercede  with  the 
king  for  Dacre' s  pardon,  as  he  had  no  authority  to 
make  terms  with  the  enemy;  and  Dacre  w^as  not 
only  forgiven,  but  thanked.  This  futile  end  to  an 
expedition  for  which  80,000  soldiers  had  been  raised 
ruined  Albany's  influence,  and  he  again  retired  to 
France  at  the  end  of  October. 

"Wolsey  at  once  saw  the  risk  which  England  had 
run.  A  successful  invasion  on  the  part  of  the  Scots 
would  have  been  a  severe  blow  to  England's  mili- 
tary reputation ;  and  Wolsey  determined  to  be  se- 
cure on  the  Scottish  side  for  the  future.  The  Earl 
of  Surrey,  on  his  return  from  his  expedition  in 
France,  was  put  in  charge  of  the  defences  of  the 
Border,  and  everything  was  done  to  humor  Queen 
^Margaret,  and  convince  her  that  she  had  more  to 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  151 

gain  from  the  favor  of  her  brother  than  from  the 
help  of  the  Duke  of  Albany.  Moreover,  Wolsey, 
already  convinced  of  the  uselessness  of  the  war 
against  France,  was  still  ready  to  gain  from  it  all 
that  he  could,  and  strove  to  use  the  threat  of  danger 
from  Scotland  as  a  means  of  withdrawing  from  war 
and  gaining  a  signal  triumph.  Francis  I.,  unable 
to  defend  himself,  tried  to  separate  his  enemies, 
and  turned  to  Charles  V.  with  offers  of  a  truce. 
When  this  was  refused,  he  repeated  his  proposals  to 
England,  and  Wolsey  saw  his  opportunity.  He 
represented  to  Charles  that  so  long  as  England  was 
menaced  by  Scotland  she  could  send  little  effective 
help  abroad ;  if  Scotland  were  crushed  she  would  be 
free  again.  He  suggested  that  the  Emperor  had 
little  to  win  by  military  enterprises  undertaken  with 
such  slight  preparation  as  the  last  campaign ;  would 
he  not  make  truce  for  a  year,  not  comprehending 
the  realm  of  Scotland  ? 

The  suggestion  was  almost  too  palpable.  Gatti- 
nara  answered  that  Henry  wished  to  use  his  forces 
for  his  private  advantage,  and  neglected  the  com- 
mon interest  of  the  alliance.  Again  bitter  com- 
plaints were  made  of  Wolsey 's  lukewarmness. 
Again  the  two  allies  jealously  watched  each  other 
lest  either  should  gain  an  advantage  by  making  a 


152  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

separate  alliance  with  France.  And  while  they 
were  thus  engaged  the  common  enemy  of  Christen- 
dom was  advancing,  and  Rhodes  fell  before  the 
Turkish  arms.  It  was  in  vain  that  Adrian  VI. 
lamented  and  wept ;  in  vain  he  implored  for  suc- 
cors. Fair  promises  alone  were  given  him.  Europe 
was  too  much  intent  on  the  duel  between  Francis 
and  Charles  to  think  seriously  of  anything  else. 
The  entreaties  of  the  Pope  were  only  regarded  by 
all  parties  as  a  good  means  of  enabling  them  to 
throw  a  decent  veil  over  any  measure  which  their 
own  interests  might  prompt.  They  might  declare 
that  it  was  taken  for  the  sake  of  the  holy  war ; 
they  might  claim  that  they  had  acted  from  a  desire 
to  fulfil  the  Pope's  behest. 

So  things  stood  in  the  beginning  of  1523,  when 
an  unexpected  event  revived  the  military  spirit  of 
Henry  VIII.,  and  brought  the  two  half-hearted 
allies  once  more  closely  together,  by  the  prospect 
which  it  afforded  of  striking  a  deadly  blow  at 
France.  The  chief  of  the  nobles  of  France,  the 
sole  survivor  of  the  great  feudatories,  the  Constable 
of  Bourbon,  was  most  unwisely  affronted  by  Francis 
I. ,  at  a  time  when  he  needed  to  rally  all  his  sub- 
jects round  him.  Not  only  was  Bourbon  affronted, 
but  also  a  lawsuit  was  instituted  against  him,  which 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  153 

threatened  to  deprive  him  of  the  greater  part  of  his 
possessions.  Bourbon,  who  could  bring  into  the 
field  6000  men,  did  not  find  his  patriotism  strong 
enough  to  endure  this  wrong.  He  opened  up  se- 
cret negotiations  with  Charles,  who  disclosed  the 
matter  to  Henry.  Henry's  ambition  was  at  once 
fired.  He  saw  Francis  I. ,  hopelessly  weakened  by 
a  defection  of  the  chief  nobles,  incapable  of  with- 
standing an  attack  upon  the  interior  of  his  land,  so 
that  the  English  troops  might  conquer  the  old  prov- 
inces which  England  still  claimed,  and  victory 
might  place  upon  his  head  the  crown  of  France. 

Wolsey  was  not  misled  by  this  fantastic  prospect, 
but  as  a  campaign  was  imminent,  took  all  the  pre- 
cautions he  could  that  it  should  be  as  little  costly  as 
possible  to  England,  and  that  Charles  should  bear 
his  full  share  of  the  expense.  He  demanded,  more- 
over, that  Bourbon  should  acknowledge  Henry 
VIII.  as  the  rightful  King  of  France — a  demand 
which  was  by  no  means  acceptable  to  Charles.  He 
sent  an  envoy  of  his  own  to  confer  with  Bourbon, 
but  his  envoy  was  delayed  on  the  way,  so  that  the 
agreement  was  framed  in  the  imperial  interests 
alone,  and  the  demands  of  Henry  were  little  heeded. 
The  agreement  was  that  Bourbon  should  receive 
the  hand  of  one  of  the  Emperor's  sisters,  and  should 


154  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

receive  a  subsidy  of  200,000  crowns*  to  be  paid 
equally  by  Henry  and  Charles ;  the  question  of  the 
recognition  of  Henry  as  rightful  King  of  France 
was  to  be  left  to  the  decision  of  the  Emperor. 

The  plan  of  the  campaign  was  quickly  settled. 
Charles,  with  20,000  men,  was  to  advance  into 
Guienne;  Henry,  with  15,000  English,  supported 
by  6000  Ketherlanders,  was  to  advance  through 
Picardy ;  10,000  Germans  were  to  advance  through 
Burgundy;  and  Bourbon  was  to  head  a  body  of 
dissatisfied  nobles  of  France.  It  was  an  excellent 
plan  on  paper ;  and,  indeed,  the  position  of  France 
seemed  hopeless  enough.  Francis  I.  had  squan- 
dered his  people's  money,  and  was  exceedingly  un- 
popular; Wolsey's  diplomacy  had  helped  to  win 
over  the  Swiss  to  the  imperial  alliance ;  and  the  in- 
defatigable secretary  Pace  had  been  sent  to  Venice 
to  detach  the  republic  from  its  connection  with 
France.  It  was  believed  that  "Wolsey  was  jealous 
of  Pace's  influence  with  Henry  VIII.,  and  con- 
trived to  keep  him  employed  on  embassies  which 
removed  him  from  the  Court.  At  all  events,  he 
certainly  kept  him  busily  employed  till  his  health 
gave  way  under  the  excessive  pressure.  To  lend 
greater  weight  to  Pace's  arguments,  Wolsey  de- 
*$  242,000. 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  155 

scended  to  an  act  of  overbearing  insolence.  Some 
Venetian  galleys  trading  with  Flanders  put  in  at 
Plymouth  during  a  storm ;  they  were  laid  under  an 
embargo,  and  were  detained  on  many  flimsy  pretexts. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  Venetian  ambassador  re- 
monstrated ;  Wolsey  always  had  a  plausible  answer. 
Probably  he  wished  to  show  Venice  that  its  trading 
interests  required  the  friendship  of  England.  At 
all  events  the  galleys  were  not  released  till  Venice 
was  on  the  point  of  joining  the  imperial  alliance. 
Even  then  "Wolsey  had  the  meanness  to  carry  off  a 
couple  of  guns  from  each  vessel,  and  Venice  had  to 
make  a  present  of  them  to  the  English  king  with 
as  much  grace  as  the  circumstances  allowed.  This 
little  incident  certainly  shows  Wolsey 's  conduct  at 
its  worst,  and  confirms  the  impression  of  contem- 
poraries, that  he  had  to  some  degree  the  insolence 
of  an  upstart,  and  sometimes  overrode  the  weak  in 
a  way  to  leave  behind  a  bitter  feeling  of  resent- 
ment. 

However,  Venice  joined  the  Emperor,  and  Pope 
Adrian  VI.,  who  had  pursued  hitherto  a  policy  of 
pacification,  was  at  last  overborne  by  the  pressure 
of  England  and  the  Emperor,  so  that  he  entered 
into  a  defensive  league  against  France.  Thus 
France  was  entirely  isolated.  Distrusted  at  home 


156  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

and  unbefriended  abroad,  she  seemed  to  be  a  prey 
to  her  enemies;  and  Henry's  hopes  rose  so  high 
that  he  gleefully  looked  forward  to  being  recognized 
as  " governor  of  France,"  and  that  "they  should 
by  this  means  make  a  way  for  him  as  King  Bich- 
ard  did  for  his  father."  Wiser  men  shook  their 
heads  at  the  king's  infatuation.  "  I  pray  God," 
wrote  More  to  Wolsey,  "  if  it  be  good  for  his  Grace 
and  for  this  realm  that  then  it  may  prove  so ;  and 
else  in  the  stead  thereof  I  pray  God  send  his  grace 
an  honorable  and  profitable  peace."* 

*  Sir  Thomas  More  (1480?— 1535)  was  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  Englishmen  of  his  times,  eminent  as  a  man  of 
letters,  a  statesman,  and  a  wit.  In  the  university  of  Oxford, 
where  he  was  educated,  he  was  one  of  the  first  Englishmen 
to  study  the  Greek  language,  and  he  had  also  the  good  for- 
tune to  form  there  a  lasting  friendship  with  Erasmus.  After 
leaving  Oxford  he  studied  law,  but  at  this  time  he  was 
"  seized  with  a  violent  access  of  devotional  rapture,"  and, 
resolving  to  become  a  monk,  he  spent  several  years  as  a  lay 
brother  in  a  convent  in  London.  While  in  the  convent  he 
pursued  vigorously  the  study  of  the  classics,  the  French 
language,  and,  for  recreation,  music.  In  the  practice  of  the 
law  he  rose  rapidly  to  distinction.  His  first  notable  act  of 
political  leadership  was  in  parliament  when  he  led  the  opposi- 
tion against  the  demand  of  Henry  VII.  for  an  extravagant 
subsidy  upon  the  occasion  of  the  marriage  of  the  king's 
daughter.  The  monarch,  enraged  at  being  "  thwarted  by  a 
beardless  boy,"  sought  vengeance ;  and  this  he  found  in 
maliciousl}r  prosecuting  More's  father,  imprisoning  him  in  the 
tower,  and  fining  him  heavily.  More  was  about  to  seek 
safety  in  flight  in  foreign  parts,  when  the  death  of  his  royal 
enemy  removed  his  anxiety. 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  157 

The  spirit  that  breathes  through  this  prayer  is  not 
a  martial  spirit,  and  no  doubt  More's  feelings  rep- 
resented those  of  Wolsey,  who,  though  carried 

Upon  the  accession  of  Henry  VIII.,  More's  talents  were 
brought  into  the  royal  service.  He  commanded  the  highest 
confidence  both  of  the  king  and  of  Cardinal  Wolsey.  He 
was  frequently  sent  on  embassies,  and  was  appointed  to 
various  high  offices  in  rapid  succession.  About  the  year  1516 
he  wrote  his  most  famous  work,  Utopia,  meaning  "  Nowhere" 
modeled  somewhat  after  Plato's  Republic.  In  this  he  de- 
scribes an  imaginary  island  in  the  sea,  where  the  ideal  laws 
are  a  model  for  England. 

Upon  the  fall  of  Wolsey,  More  was  appointed  lord  chan- 
cellor. Though  he  was  hostile  to  the  teachings  of  Luther, 
and  even  wrote  a  treatise  attacking  the  great  reformer,  his 
administration  of  the  government  was  just  and  he  was  in- 
dulgent towards  the  Protestants.  Erasmus  declared  that  no 
Protestant  was  put  to  death  for  "these  pestilent  dogmas" 
while  More  was  lord  chancellor.  Certain  it  is  that  he  was 
not  responsible  for  such  persecution  as  then  prevailed. 

In  the  year  1532,  Sir  Thomas  resigned  the  great  seal  be- 
cause he  could  not  conscientiously  sanction  Henry's  divorce 
from  Katharine.  Henry  was  loath  to  give  him  up,  and  sent 
him  a  special  invitation  to  attend  the  coronation  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  and  with  it  the  gift  of  £20  to  purchase  clothes  for  the 
occasion.  More,  refusing  to  attend  the  ceremony,  was 
marked  out  for  the  royal  vengeance.  He  refused  to  accept 
the  act  of  supremacy,  which  parliament  passed  in  1534, 
making  Henry  the  head  of  the  church.  Nor  would  he  con- 
sent to  the  act  of  succession  which  excluded  the  daughter  of 
Katharine  from  the  throne  in  favor  of  the  issue  of  Anne 
Boleyn.  This  was  with  him  a  matter  of  conscience.  He 
was  arrested  upon  the  charge  of  constructive  high  treason 
and  imprisoned  in  the  tower  for  more  than  a  year.  At  his 
trial  he  would  have  been  acquitted  had  it  not  been  for  the 
perjury  of  orie  Rich,  solicitor  general,  who  quitted  the  bar 
and  offered  himself  as  witness  for  the  crown,  and  swore  that 


158  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

away  by  the  king's  military  zeal,  had  little  hopes  of 
any  great  success,  and  such  hopes  as  he  had  were 
rapidly  destroyed.  The  campaign  did  not  begin  till 
the  end  of  September;  the  contingent  from  the 
Netherlands  was  late  in  appearing  and  was  ill  sup- 
plied with  food.  Till  the  last  moment  Wolsey 
urged,  as  the  first  object  of  the  campaign,  the  siege 
of  Boulogne,  which,  if  successful,  would  have  given 
England  a  second  stronghold  on  the  French  coast ; 
but  Wolsey  was  overruled,  and  an  expedition  into 
the  interior  of  France  was  preferred.  It  was  a  rep- 
etition of  the  raid  made  in  the  last  year,  and  was 
equally  futile.  The  army  advanced  to  Montdidier, 


in  private  conversation  he  had  heard  Sir  Thomas  say  that 
parliament  could  not  make  the  king  supreme  head  of  the 
church.  He  was  thereupon  condemned  to  be  beheaded.  His 
wit  could  not  be  suppressed  even  at  the  grewsome  act  of  his 
execution.  "The  scaffold,"  says  Froude,  "had  been  awk- 
wardly erected,  and  shook  as  he  placed  his  foot  upon  the 
ladder.  '  See  me  safe  up,'  he  said  to  Kingston ;  '  for  my 
coming  down  I  can  shift  for  myself.'  .  .  .  The  fatal  blow  was 
about  to  fall  when  he  signed  for  a  moment's  delay,  while  he 
moved  aside  his  beard.  '  Pity  that  should  be  cut,'  he  mur- 
mured;  'that  has  not  committed  treason.'  With  which 
strange  words, — the  strangest  perhaps  ever  uttered  at  such  a 
time, — the  lips  most  famous  through  Europe  for  eloquence 
and  wisdom  closed  for  ever." 

Of  More's  History  of  Richard  III.,  written  about  1513, 
Hallam  says:  "It  appears  to  me  the  first  example  of  good 
English  language,  pure  and  perspicuous,  well  chosen,  with- 
Out  vulgarisms  or  pedantry." 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  159 

and  expected  tidings  of  its  confederate ;  but  nothing 
was  to  be  heard  of  Bourbon ;  his  lanzknechts  began 
to  devastate  France  and  then  disbanded.  The 
army  of  Charles  Y.  contented  itself  with  taking 
Fontarabia,  and  did  not  co-operate  with  the  Eng- 
lish forces.  After  the  capture  of  Montdidier  the 
troops,  who  were  attacked  by  sickness,  and  had 
difficulty  in  finding  provisions,  withdrew  to  the 
coast ;  and  the  Duke  of  Suffolk  brought  back  his 
costly  army  without  having  obtained  anything  of 
service  to  England.  This  expedition,  which  was  to 
do  so  much,  was  a  total  failure — there  was  positively 
nothing  to  be  shown  in  return  for  all  the  money 
spent. 

Again  the  wisdom  of  Wolsey's  policy  was  fully 
justified.  He  was  right  in  thinking  that  England 
had  neither  troops  nor  generals  who  were  sufficient 
for  an  expedition  on  the  Continent,  where  there 
was  nothing  tangible  to  be  gained.  So  long  as 
England  was  a  neutral  and  mediating  power  she 
could  pursue  her  own  interests ;  but  her  threats  were 
more  efficacious  than  her  performances.  She  could 
not  conquer  unaided,  and  her  allies  had  no  intention 
of  allowing  her  to  win  more  than  empty  glory. 
Even  this  had  been  denied  in  the  last  campaigns. 
England  had  incurred  debts  which  her  people  could 


160  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ill  afford  to  pay,  and  had  only  lowered  her  reputa- 
tion by  a  display  of  military  incompetence.  More- 
over, her  expedition  against  France  involved  her  in 
the  usual  difficulties  on  the  side  of  Scotland.  Again 
there  was  a  devastating  war  along  the  Border; 
again  the  Duke  of  Albany  was  sent  from  France  and 
raised  an  army  for  the  invasion  of  England.  But 
this  time  Wolsey  had  taken  his  precautions,  and  the 
Earl  of  Surrey  was  ready  to  march  against  him. 
When  in  November  Albany  crossed  the  Tweed  and 
besieged  the  Castle  of  Wark,  Surrey  took  the  field, 
and  again  Albany  showed  his  incapacity  as  a  leader. 
He  retired  before  Surrey's  advance,  and  wished  to 
retire  to  France,  but  was  prevented  by  the  Scottish 
lords.  Again  the  Border  raids  went  on  with  their 
merciless  slaughter  and  plunder,  amidst  which  was 
developed  the  sternness  and  severity  which  still 
mark  the  character  of  the  northern  folk. 

Still,  though  the  Scots  might  be  defeated  in  the 
field,  their  defeat  and  suffering  only  served  to 
strengthen  the  spirit  of  national  independence.  The 
subjugation  of  Scotland  to  England  was  hindered, 
not  helped,  by  the  alliance  with  the  Emperor,  which 
only  drew  Scotland  nearer  to  France,  and  kept  alive 
the  old  feeling  of  hostility.  It  was  hard  to  see 
what  England  had  to  gain  from  the  imperial  alliance. 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  161 

and  events  soon  proved  that  Charles  Y.  pursued  his 
own  interests  without  much  thought  of  the  wishes 
of  Henry  YIIL 

On  14th  September  died  Pope  Adrian  YL,  a 
weary  and  disappointed  man.  Again  there  was  a 
prospect  of  Wolsey's  election  to  the  papacy;  again 
it  might  be  seen  how  much  Charles  Y.  would  do  for 
his  English  ally.  Wolsey  had  little  hope  of  his 
good  offices,  and  was  his  own  negotiator  in  the  mat- 
ter. He  was  not  sanguine  about  his  prospects  of 
success,  as  he  knew  that  Cardinal  Medici  was  pow- 
erful in  Rome ;  and  the  disasters  of  the  pontificate 
of  Adrian  YI.  led  the  cardinals  to  wish  for  a  return 
to  the  old  policy  of  Leo  X. ,  of  which  Medici  held 
the  threads.  So  two  letters  were  sent  to  the  Eng- 
lish representatives  in  Rome,  one  in  behalf  of  Wol- 
sey,  the  other  in  behalf  of  Medici.  If  things  were 
going  for  Medici,  Wolsey  was  not  to  be  pressed ; 
only  in  case  of  a  disagreement  was  Wolsey  to  be 
put  forward,  and  then  no  effort  was  to  be  spared ; 
money  was  to  be  of  no  object,  as  Henry  would 
make  good  any  promises  made  on  his  behalf  to  se- 
cure Wolsey's  election. 

The  conclave  was  protracted;  it  sat  from  1st 
October  to  17th  November,  and  there  was  ample 
opportunity  for  Charles  to  have  made  his  influence 


162  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

felt  in  Wolsey 's  behalf.  He  professed  to  Henry 
that  he  was  doing  so.  He  wrote  a  letter  recom- 
mending Wolsey  to  his  envoy  in  Home,  and  then 
gave  orders  that  the  courier  who  carried  the  letter 
should  be  detained  on  the  way.  Really  his  influ- 
ence was  being  used  for  Medici,  and  though  a  strong 
party  in  the  conclave  opposed  Medici's  election,  it 
does  not  appear  that  Wolsey  was  ever  put  forward 
as  a  competitor.  The  cardinals  would  hear  nothing 
of  a  foreigner,  and  the  stubbornness  of  Medici's 
party  was  at  length  rewarded  by  his  election. 
There  is  no  trace  that  Wolsey  was  keenly  disap- 
pointed at  this  result.  In  announcing  it  to  Henry 
Y III. ,  he  wrote,  <  <  For  my  part,  as  I  take  God  to 
record,  I  am  more  joyous  thereof  than  if  it  had  for- 
tuned upon  my  person,  knowing  his  excellent  quali- 
ties most  meet  for  the  same,  and  how  great  and  sure 
a  friend  your  Grace  and  the  Emperor  be  like  to  have 
of  him,  and  I  so  good  a  father." 

Few  popes  came  to  their  office  amid  greater  ex- 
pectations, and  few  more  entirely  disappointed  them 
than  did  Guilio  de'  Medici.  Clement  VII.,  whose 
election  Charles,  Henry,  and  Wolsey  united  in 
greeting  with  joy,  suffered  in  a  brief  space  entire 
humiliation  at  the  hands  of  Charles,  caused  the 
downfall  of  Wolsey,  and  drove  Henry  to  sever  the 


THE  IMPERIAL  ALLIANCE.  163 

bond  between  the  English  Church  and  the  Holy 
See.  It  is  impossible  not  to  think  how  different 
would  have  been  the  course  of  events  if  "Wolsey  had 
presided  over  the  destinies  of  the  Church. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

RENEWAL  OF  PEACE. 

1523-1527. 

THE  events  of  the  year  1523  had  practically  made 
an  end  of  the  imperial  alliance.  Henry  VIII.  was 
not  in  a  position  to  go  to  war  again,  and  his  confidence 
in  Charles  V.'s  good  intentions  towards  him  was 
dispelled.  Charles  and  Francis  had  had  enough  of 
war,  and  both  of  them  secretly  desired  peace,  but 
neither  would  make  the  first  move  towards  it.  Wol- 
sey  watched  their  movements  keenly,  and  strove 
that  English  interests  should  not  be  entirely  sacrificed 
in  the  pacification  which  seemed  imminent.  He 
strove  to  induce  Charles  to  allow  proposals  of  peace 
to  proceed  from  England,  which  should  arbitrate  on 
the  differences  between  him  and  Francis.  He  urged 
that  in  any  negotiations  which  Charles  himself  under- 
took he  was  bound  to  consider  how  Henry  could  be 
recompensed  for  his  losses.  Moreover,  he  secretly 
opened  up  negotiations  of  his  own  with  the  French 

164 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  165 

Court,  and  used  the  imperial  alliance  as  a  means  to 
heighten  England's  value  to  France. 

The  more  Wolsey  watched  events  the  more  he  be- 
came convinced  that  the  best  thing  was  to  make  a 
separate  peace  with  France,  yet  in  such  a  way  as  to 
avoid  an  open  breach  with  the  Emperor.  There 
were  other  reasons  besides  the  failure  of  military  ex- 
peditions, and  the  distrust  in  any  good  result  from 
their  continuance,  which  impelled  "Wolsey  to  a  paci- 
fic policy.  He  knew  only  too  well  that  war  was 
impossible,  and  that  the  country  could  not  bear  the 
continued  drain  on  its  resources.  If  Henry  VII. 
had  developed  the  royal  power  by  a  parsimony  which 
enabled  him  to  be  free  from  parliamentary  control, 
Henry  VIII.  had  dazzled  his  people  by  the  splen- 
dor of  royalty,  and  had  displayed  his  magnificence 
to  such  an  extent  that  Englishmen  were  beginning 
to  doubt  if  they  could  afford  much  longer  to  be  so 
important,  or  rather  if  England's  importance  in 
Continental  affairs  were  worth  all  the  money  that  it 
cost.  Of  late  years  the  weight  of  taxation  had  be- 
come oppressive,  and  the  expenses  of  the  last  cam- 
paign were  difficult  to  meet. 

There  was  no  difference  between  the  national  rev- 
enue and  the  royal  revenue  in  Wolsey's  days.  The 
king  took  all  the  money  he  could  get,  and  spent  it 


166  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

as  he  thought  good ;  if  he  went  to  war  he  expected 
his  people  to  pay  for  it.  In  an  ordinary  way  the 
king  was  well  provided  for  by  his  feudal  dues  and 
the  proceeds  of  customs,  tonnage  and  poundage,* 
and  the  tax  on  wool,  wool-fells,  and  leather.  When 
extraordinary  expenses  were  incurred  Parliament 
was  summoned,  and  granted  taxes  to  the  king. 
Their  vote  was  reckoned  on  an  old  assessment  of 
tenths  and  fifteenths  of  the  value  of  chattels  pos- 
sessed by  the  baronage  and  the  commons ;  and  when 
Parliament  made  this  grant  the  clergy  in  their  con- 
vocation granted  a  tenth  of  clerical  incomes.  The 
value  of  a  tenth  and  fifteenth  was  £30,000;  of  a 
clerical  tenth  £10,000;  so  that  the  usual  grant  in 
case  of  any  emergency  amounted  to  £40,000  from 

*  "Tonnage  and  poundage  were  customs  duties  anciently 
imposed  upon  exports  and  imports,  the  former  being  a  duty 
upon  all  wines  imported  in  addition  to  prisage  and  butlerage, 
the  latter  a  duty  imposed  ad  valorem  at  the  rate  of  twelve 
pence  in  the  pound  on  all  merchandise  imported  or  exported. 
The  duties  were  levied  at  first  by  agreement  with  merchants 
(poundage  in  1302,  tonnage  in  1347),  then  granted  by  parlia- 
ment in  1373,  at  first  for  a  limited  period  only.  They  were 
considered  to  be  imposed  for  defence  of  the  realm.  From  the 
reign  of  Henry  VI.  until  that  of  James  I.  they  were  usually 
granted  for  life.  They  were  not  granted  to  Charles  I.  ... 
After  the  Restoration  they  were  granted  to  Charles  II.  and 
his  two  successors  for  life.  By  acts  of  Anfie  and  George  I. 
the  duties  were  made  perpetual,  and  mortgaged  for  the  public 
debt.  In  1787  they  were  finally  abolished,  and  other  modes 
of  obtaining  revenue  were  substituted." 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  167 

the  whole  realm.  For  his  expedition  of  1513  Henry 
obtained  a  vote  of  two  tenths  and  fifteenths,  besides 
a  subsidy  of  a  graduated  income  and  property  tax 
which  was  estimated  to  produce  £160,000,  and  this 
had  to  be  supplemented  by  a  further  grant  of  tenths 
and  fifteenths  in  1515. 

It  was  in  1515  that  Wolsey  became  Chancellor, 
and  with  that  office  assumed  the  entire  responsibil- 
ity for  all  affairs  of  state.  He  managed  to  intro- 
duce some  order  into  the  finances,  and  during  the 
years  of  pacific  diplomacy  things  went  tolerably 
well.  But  the  French  expeditions  were  costly,  and 
in  April,  1523,  Parliament  had  to  be  summoned  to 
pay  the  king's  debts.  The  war  against  France  was 
popular,  and  men  were  willing  to  contribute. 

So  on  15th  April  Henry  VIII.  opened  Parlia- 
ment, and  Tunstal,*  Bishop  of  London,  delivered 
the  usual  oration  in  praise  of  the  king  and  grief  over 

*  Cuthbert  Tunstall,  or  Tonstall,  (1475?— 1559)  was  an  En- 
glish prelate,  man  of  letters,  and  statesman.  A  Catholic  in 
that  age  of  intolerance  and  persecution,  he  was  conspicuous 
for  his  humanity  and  allowed  no  burning  of  heretics  during 
his  administration.  He  became  bishop  of  London  in  1522, 
lord  privy  seal  in  1523,  and  bishop  of  Durham  in  1530.  Under 
Edward  VI.  he  was  degraded  from  office  and  imprisoned  in 
the  tower,  but  under  Bloody  Mary  he  was  restored  to  his 
bishopric.  He  refused  to  take  the  oath  of  supremacy  after 
Elizabeth  ascended  the  throne,  and  was  again  deprived  of  his 
see.  He  wrote  on  theological  and  scientific  subjects. 


168  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

the  evils  of  the  time.  The  Commons  departed,  and 
elected  as  their  Speaker  Sir  Thomas  More,  who  had 
already  abandoned  the  quiet  paths  of  literature  for 
the  stormy  sea  of  politics.  The  king's  assent  was 
given  in  the  usual  manner  to  his  appointment,  and 
the  session  was  adjourned.  The  Commons  doubt- 
less began  to  take  financial  matters  under  their  con- 
sideration, but  it  was  thought  desirable  that  they 
should  have  a  definite  statement  of  the  national 
needs.  On  29th  April  Wolsey  went  to  the  House, 
and  after  urging  the  importance  of  the  interests  at 
stake  in  the  war,  proposed  a  subsidy  of  £800,000, 
to  be  raised  according  to  an  old  method,  by  a  tax  of 
four  shillings  in  the  pound  on  all  goods  and  lands. 
Next  day  there  was  much  debate  on  this  proposal ; 
it  was  urged  that  the  sudden  withdrawal  of  so  large 
an  amount  of  ready  money  would  seriously  affect 
the  currency,  and  was  indeed  almost  impossible. 
A  committee  was  appointed  to  represent  to  Wolsey 
that  this  was  the  sense  of  the  House,  and  beg  him 
to  induce  the  king  to  moderate  his  demands.  Wol- 
sey answered  that  he  would  rather  have  his  tongue 
pulled  out  with  red-hot  pincers  than  carry  such  a 
message  to  the  king. 

The   Commons  in  a  melancholy  mood  renewed 
their  debate  till  Wolsey  entered  the  House  and  de- 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  169 

sired  to  reason  with  those  who  opposed  his  de- 
mands. On  this  Sir  Thomas  More,  as  Speaker,  de- 
fended the  privilege  of  the  House  by  saying,  "  That 
it  was  the  order  of  that  House  to  hear  and  not  to 
reason  save  among  themselves. ' '  Whereupon  Wol- 
sey  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with  answering 
such  objections  as  had  come  to  his  ear.  He  argued, 
it  would  seem  with  vigor,  that  the  country  was 
much  richer  than  they  thought,  and  he  told  them 
some  unpleasant  truths,  which  came  with  ill  grace 
from  himself,  about  the  prevalence  of  luxury. 
After  his  departure  the  debate  continued  till  the 
House  agreed  to  grant  two  shillings  in  the  pound  on 
all  incomes  of  £20  a  year  and  upwards ;  one  shill- 
ing on  all  between  £20  and  £2 ;  and  fourpence  on 
all  incomes  under  £2 ;  this  payment  to  be  extended 
over  two  years.  This  was  increased  by  a  county 
member,  who  said,  "  Let  us  gentlemen  of  £50  a 
year  and  upwards  give  the  king  of  our  lands  a  shill- 
ing in  the  pound,  to  be  paid  in  two  years."  The 
borough  members  stood  aloof,  and  allowed  the  land- 
holders to  tax  themselves  an  extra  shilling  in  the 
pound  if  they  chose  to  do  so.  This  was  voted  on 
21st  May,  and  Parliament  was  prorogued  till  10th 
June.  Meanwhile  popular  feeling  was  greatly 
moved  by  rumors  of  an  unprecedented  tax,  and 


170  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

what  was  really  done  was  grossly  exaggerated  on 
all  sides.  As  the  members  left  the  House  an  angry 
crowd  greeted  them  with  jeers.  ""We  hear  say 
that  you  will  grant  four  shillings  in  the  pound. 
Do  so,  and  go  home,  we  advise  you."  Eeally  the 
members  had  done  the  best  they  could,  and  worse 
things  were  in  store  for  them.  For  when  the  ses- 
sion was  resumed  the  knights  of  the  shire  showed 
some  resentment  that  they  had  been  allowed  to 
outdo  the  burgesses  in  liberality.  They  proposed 
that  as  they  had  agreed  to  pay  a  shilling  in  the 
pound  on  land  assessed  over  £50  in  the  third  year, 
so  a  like  payment  should  be  made  in  the  fourth 
year  on  all  goods  over  the  value  of  £50.  There 
was  a  stormy  debate  on  this  motion;  but  Sir 
Thomas  More  at  length  made  peace,  and  it  was 
passed.  Thus  Wolsey  on  the  whole,  had  contrived 
to  obtain  something  resembling  his  original  pro- 
posal, but  the  payments  were  spread  over  a  period 
of  four  years.  After  this  Wolsey,  at  the  proro- 
gation of  Parliament,  could  afford  to  thank  the  Com- 
mons on  the  king's  behalf,  and  assure  them  that 
"  his  Grace  would  in  such  wise  employ  their  loving 
contribution  as  should  be  for  the  defence  of  his 
realm  and  of  his  subjects,  and  the  persecution  and 
pressing  of  his  enemy." 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE. 

Yet,  however  Wolsey  might  rejoice  in  his  suc- 
cess, he  knew  that  he  had  received  a  serious  warn- 
ing, which  he  was  bound  to  lay  to  heart.  He  had 
been  faithful  to  the  king,  and  had  done  his  'best  to 
carry  out  his  views.  The  war  with  France  was 
none  of  his  advising,  and  he  had  no  hopes  of  any 
advantage  from  it ;  yet  he  was  willing  to  take  all 
the  blame  of  measures  which  inwardly  he  disap- 
proved. He  stood  forward  and  assumed  the  un- 
popularity of  taxation,  whose  necessity  he  deplored. 
Henry  spent  the  nation's  money  at  his  pleasure,  and 
Wolsey  undertook  the  ungrateful  task  of  squeezing 
supplies  from  a  reluctant  Parliament,  while  the 
king  sat  a  benevolent  spectator  in  the  background. 
Henry  took  all  the  glory,  and  left  Wolsey  to  do  all 
the  unpleasant  work.  Wolsey  stood  between  the 
national  temper  and  the  king ;  he  felt  that  he  could 
not  stand  under  the  odium  of  accomplishing  many 
more  such  reconciliations.  England  had  reached 
the  limit  of  its  aspirations  after  national  glory. 
For  the  future  Wolsey  must  maintain  the  king's 
honor  without  appealing  to  the  national  pocket. 

There  was  no  prospect  of  obtaining  further  sup- 
plies from  Parliament,  and  the  best  way  to  pay  the 
expenses  of  a  futile  war  was  by  making  a  lucrative 
peace.  Wolsey  tried  to  induce  Francis  I.  to  renew 


LIFE  OP  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

his  financial  agreement  with  Henry  VIII.  which 
the  war  had  broken  off ;  and  to  bring  pressure  to 
bear  upon  him  for  this  purpose,  was  willing  to  con- 
tinue with  Charles  V.  negotiations  for  a  fresh  under- 
taking. 

So  in  June  the  unwearied  Pace  was  sent  to  Bour- 
bon's *  camp  to  promise  England's  help  on  terms 
which  Wolsey  knew  were  sure  to  be  refused.  Eng- 
land would  again  join  in  a  campaign  against  France 
in  the  north,  provided  Bourbon,,  by  an  invasion  of 
Provence,  succeeded  in  raising  a  rebellion  against 
Francis  I. ,  and  would  take  an  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  English  king  as  lord  of  France.  Bourbon  sorely 
needed  money,  and  did  all  he  could  to  win  over 
Pace.  He  secretly  took  an  oath  of  fidelity,  not  of 

*  Charles,  duke  of  Bourbon  (1490-1527),  commonly  called 
Constable  Bourbon,  was  the  ablest  general  of  his  day  in 
France.  To  his  skill  was  due  the  victory  of  the  French  over 
the  Swiss,  who  were  considered  invincible  up  to  that  time,  at 
the  battle  of  Marignano  (see  above,  p.  38,  note).  He  later  quar- 
relled with  his  king,  Francis  I.,  on  account  of  the  machinations 
of  Louise  of  Savoy.  He  then  entered  the  service  of  Charles  V. , 
raised  an  army  of  Germans,  and  won  the  battle  of  Pa  via  in 
1525.  As  Charles,  possibly  jealous  of  Bourbon's  growing 
power,  refused  to  pay  the  German  troops,  the  general  re- 
solved to  recoup  them  in  his  own  way,  by  the  spoils  of  vic- 
tory. He  led  them  through  a  hostile  country  to  the  city  of 
Rome,  which  they  captured  by  assault.  He  was  the  first  to 
mount  the  wall,  and  was  among  the  first  slain.  After  his 
death,  the  excesses  of  the  soldiers  were  without  restrain  and 
terrible.  See  below,  p.  2Q2. 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  173 

allegiance ;  and  Pace  was  impressed  with  admiration 
of  his  genius  and  believed  in  his  chances  of  success. 
Wolsey  was  coldly  cautious  towards  Pace's  enthu- 
siasm, and  the  result  was  a  breach  between  them. 
Pace  openly  blamed  Wolsey,  as  Wingfield  had  done 
before,  and  pressed  for  money  and  an  armed  de- 
monstration. Wolsey  soberly  rebuked  his  lack  of 
judgment  by  setting  before  him  a  well-considered 
survey  of  the  political  chances.  His  caution  proved 
to  be  justified,  as  Bourbon's  invasion  of  Provence 
was  a  failure.  Wolsey  gained  all  that  he  needed 
by  his  pretence  of  helping  Bourbon ;  he  induced  the 
French  Court  to  undertake  negotiations  seriously  by 
means  of  secret  envoys  who  were  sent  to  London. 

Still  Wolsey  did  not  hide  from  himself  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  an  alliance  with  France  which 
would  satisfy  Henry  VIII.  or  bring  substantial  ad- 
vantage to  the  country.  However,  on  one  point 
he  managed  to  obtain  an  immediate  advantage.  He 
always  kept  his  eye  on  Scotland,  and  now  used  the 
first  signs  of  returning  friendliness  on  the  part  of 
France  to  further  his  scheme  of  restoring  English 
influence  in  that  country.  In  June  the  Duke  of 
Albany  was  recalled  to  France,  and  Wolsey  set  to 
work  to  win  back  Queen  Margaret  to  her  brother's 
cause.  He  seems  to  have  despaired  of  blandish- 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ments,  and  contrived  a  way  to  have  a  more  power- 
ful weapon.  Margaret's  husband,  the  Earl  of  An- 
gus, had  been-sent  by  Albany  to  France,  where  he 
was  carefully  guarded.  On  the  first  signs  of  re- 
newed friendliness  between  England  and  France  a 
hint  from  Wolsey  procured  him  an  opportunity  of 
escaping  to  England.  With  Angus  at  his  disposal 
"Wolsey  urged  Margaret  to  be  reconciled  to  her  hus- 
band, and  terrified  her  by  the  prospect  of  restoring 
him  to  Scotland  in  case  she  refused  reconciliation. 
By  playing  cleverly  on  her  personal  feelings,  "Wol- 
sey led  her  by  degrees  to  accept  his  own  plan  for 
freeing  Scotland  from  Albany  and  French  interfer- 
ence. He  urged  that  the  young  king  was  now  old 
enough  to  rule  for  himself,  and  promised  Margaret 
help  to  secure  her  supremacy  in  his  council.  At 
the  same  time  he  won  over  the  Scottish  lords  by  the 
prospect  of  a  marriage  between  James  and  Mary  of 
England  [commonly  known  in  history  as  "  Bloody 
Mary],  who  was  still  Henry  VIII. 's  heir.  In  Au- 
gust James  V.  was  set  up  as  king,  and  the  Scot- 
tish Parliament  approved  of  the  English  marriage. 
Again  Wolsey  won  a  signal  triumph,  and  accom- 
plished by  diplomacy  what  the  sword  had  been  un- 
able to  achieve. 

We  need  not  follow  the  complicated  diplomacy 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  175 

of  the  year  1524,  which  was  transferred  to  Italy, 
whither  Francis  I.  had  pursued  Bourbon  and  was 
engaged  in  the  siege  of  Pavia.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  Wolsey  pursued  a  cautious  course :  if  Francis 
won  the  day  in  Italy  he  was  ready  to  treat  with 
him  liberally :  if  the  imperial  arms  prevailed,  then 
he  could  sell  England's  alliance  more  dearly.  But 
this  cautious  attitude  was  displeasing  to  Charles, 
whose  ambassador  in  London,  de  Praet,  complained 
without  ceasing  of  the  growing  coldness  of  Henry 
and  Wolsey.  Wolsey  kept  a  sharp  watch  on  De 
Praet,  and  resented  his  keen-sightedness ;  finally, 
in  February  1525,  De  Praet 's  despatches  were  inter- 
cepted, and  he  was  called  before  the  Council,  when 
Wolsey  charged  him  with  untruth.  De  Praet  an- 
swered by  complaining  that  his  privileges  as  an  am- 
bassador had  been  violated.  He  was  ordered  to 
confine  himself  to  his  own  house  till  the  king  had 
written  to  the  Emperor  about  his  conduct. 

This  was  indeed  an  unheard-of  treatment  for  the 
ambassador  of  an  ally,  and  we  can  scarcely  attribute 
it  merely  to  personal  spite  on  the  part  of  so  skilled 
a  statesman  as  Wolsey.  Perhaps  it  was  a  deliberate 
plan  to  cause  a  personal  breach  between  Henry  and 
the  Emperor.  No  doubt  Henry's  own  feelings 
were  towards  Charles  rather  than  Francis,  and  it 


176  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

seems  probable  that  Wolsey  wished  to  show  his 
master  that  Charles  was  only  trying  to  make  use  of 
his  friendship  for  his  own  purposes.  The  des- 
patches of  Charles's  envoy  were  opened  and  their 
contents  made  known  to  Henry  for  some  time  be- 
fore Wolsey  took  any  open  action.  He  acted  when 
he  saw  his  master  sufficiently  irritated,  and  he  prob- 
ably suggested  that  the  best  way  to  give  Charles  a 
lesson  was  by  an  attack  upon  his  ambassador.  This 
proposal  agreed  with  the  high-handed  manner  of 
action  which  Henry  loved  to  adopt.  It  gave  him 
a  chance  of  asserting  his  own  conception  of  his 
dignity,  and  he  challenged  Charles  to  say  if  he 
identified  himself  with  his  ambassador's  sentiments. 

Under  any  circumstances  it  was  an  audacious  step, 
and  as  things  turned  out  it  was  an  unfortunate  one. 
Within  a  few  days  the  news  reached  England  that 
Francis  had  been  attacked  at  Pavia  by  the  imperial 
forces,  had  been  entirely  routed,  and  was  a  prisoner 
in  the  hands  of  Charles.  Though  Wolsey  was  pre- 
pared for  some  success  of  the  imperial  arms,  he  was 
taken  aback  at  the  decisiveness  of  the  stroke.  His 
time  for  widening  the  breach  between  Charles  and 
Henry  had  not  been  well  chosen. 

However,  Charles  saw  that  he  could  not  pursue 
his  victory  without  money,  and  to  obtain  money  he 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  177 

must  adopt  an  appearance  of  moderation.  So  he 
professed  in  Italy  willingness  to  forget  the  past,  and 
he  avoided  a  quarrel  with  England.  He  treated 
the  insult  to  his  ambassador  as  the  result  of  a  per- 
sonal misunderstanding.  Henry  complained  of  De 
Praet's  unfriendly  bearing;  Charles  assured  him 
that  no  offence  was  intended.  Both  parties  saved 
their  dignity ;  De  Praet  was  recalled,  and  another 
ambassador  was  sent  in  his  stead.  Wolsey  saw  that 
he  had  been  precipitate,  and  hastened  to  withdraw 
his  false  step ;  Henry  lent  him  his  countenance,  but 
can  scarcely  have  relished  doing  so.  Wolsey  knew 
that  his  difficulties  were  increased.  The  victory  of 
Charles  again  drew  Henry  to  his  side  and  revived 
his  projects  of  conquest  at  the  expense  of  France, 
now  left  helpless  by  its  king's  captivity.  As  the 
defection  of  Bourbon  had  formerly  awakened 
Henry's  hopes,  so  now  did  the  captivity  of  Francis. 
Again  Wolsey 's  pacific  plans  were  shattered ;  again 
he  was  driven  to  undertake  the  preparations  for  a 
war  of  which  his  judgment  disapproved. 

Indeed  Wolsey  knew  that  war  was  absolutely  im- 
possible for  want  of  money ;  but  it  was  useless  to 
say  so  to  the  king.  He  was  bound  to  try  and  raise 
supplies  by  some  means  or  other,  and  his  experience 

of  the  last  Parliament  had  shown  him  that  there 
12 


178  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

was  no  more  to  be  obtained  from  that  source.  In 
his  extremity  Wolsey  undertook  the  responsibility 
of  reviving  a  feudal  obligation  which  had  long  been 
forgotten.  He  announced  that  the  king  purposed 
to  pass  the  sea  in  person,  and  demanded  that  the 
goodwill  of  his  subjects  should  provide  for  his 
proper  equipment.  But  the  goodwill  of  the  people 
was  not  allowed  the  privilege  of  spontaneous  gener- 
osity. Commissioners  were  appointed  in  every  shire 
to  assess  men's  property,  and  require  a  sixth  part  of 
it  for  the  king's  needs.  Wolsey  himself  addressed 
the  citizens  of  London.  "When  they  gave  a  feeble 
assent  to  his  request  for  advice,  "  whether  they 
thought  it  convenient  that  the  king  should  pass 
the  sea  with  an  army  or  not,"  he  proceeded, 
"  Then  he  must  go  like  a  prince,  which  cannot  be 
without  your  aid."  He  unfolded  his  proposals 
for  a  grant  of  3s.  4d.  in  the  pound  on  £50  and  up- 
wards, 2s.  8d.  on  £20  and  upwards,  and  Is.  in  the 
pound  on  £1  and  upwards.  Some  one  pleaded  that 
the  times  were  bad.  < i  Sirs, ' '  said  Wolsey,  * '  speak 
not  to  break  what  is  concluded,  for  some  shall  not 
pay  even  a  tenth;  and  it  were  better  that  a  few 
should  suffer  indigence  than  the  king  at  this  time 
should  lack.  Beware,  therefore,  and  resist  not,  nor 
ruffle  not  in  this  case ;  otherwise  it  may  fortune  to 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  179 

cost  some  their  heads."  This  was  indeed  a  high- 
handed way  of  dealing  with  a  public  meeting,  which 
was  only  summoned  to  hear  the  full  measure  of  the 
coming  calamity.  We  cannot  wonder  that  "  all 
people  cursed  the  cardinal  and  his  adherents  as  sub- 
verters  of  the  laws  and  liberty  of  England. '?  Nor 
was  Wolsey  ignorant  of  the  unpopularity  which  he 
incurred;  but  there  was  no  escape  possible.  He 
rested  only  on  the  king's  favor,  and  he  knew  that 
the  king's  personal  affection  for  him  had  grown 
colder.  He  was  no  longer  the  king's  friend  and 
tutor,  inspiring  him  with  his  own  lofty  ideas  and 
slowly  revealing  his  far-reaching  schemes.  Late 
years  had  seen  "Wolsey  immersed  in  the  business  of 
the  State,  while  the  king  pursued  his  own  pleasures, 
surrounded  by  companions  who  did  their  utmost  to 
undermine  Wolsey 's  influence.  They  advocated 
war,  while  he  longed  for  peace ;  they  encouraged 
the  royal  extravagance,  while  he  worked  for 
economy;  they  favored  the  imperial  alliance  and 
humored  Henry's  dreams  of  the  conquest  of  France, 
while  Wolsey  saw  that  England's  strength  lay  in  a 
powerful  neutrality.  The  king's  plans  had  deviated 
from  the  lines  which  Wolsey  had  designed,  and  the 
king's  arbitrary  temper  had  grown  more  impatient 
of  restraint.  Wolsey  had  imperceptibly  slipped 


180  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

from  the  position  of  a  friend  to  that  of  a  servant,  and 
he  was  dimly  conscious  that  his  continuance  in  the 
royal  service  depended  on  his  continued  usefulness. 
Whatever  the  king  required  he  was  bound  to  provide. 
So  Wolsey  strained  every  nerve  to  fill  the  royal 
coffers  by  the  device  of  an  "  Amicable  Loan," 
which  raised  a  storm  of  popular  indignation.  Men 
said  with  truth  that  they  had  not  yet  paid  the  sub- 
sidy voted  by  Parliament,  and  already  they  were 
exposed  to  a  new  exaction.  Coin  had  never  been 
plentiful  in  England,  and  at  that  time  it  was  ex- 
ceptionally scarce.  The  commissioners  in  the 
different  shires  all  reported  the  exceeding  difficulty 
which  they  met  with  in  the  discharge  of  their  un- 
pleasant duty.  It  soon  became  clear  to  Wolsey 
that  his  demand  had  overshot  the  limits  of  prudence, 
and  that  money  could  not  be  raised  on  the  basis  of 
the  parliamentary  assessment  without  the  risk  of 
a  rebellion.  Accordingly  Wolsey  withdrew  from 
his  original  proposal.  He  sent  for  the  mayor  and 
corporation  of  London  and  told  them,  in  the  fic- 
titious language  in  which  constitutional  procedure 
is  always  veiled,  "  I  kneeled  down  to  his  Grace, 
showing  him  both  your  good  minds  towards  him 
and  also  the  charge  you  continually  sustain,  the 
which,  at  my  desire  and  petition,  was  content  to 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  181 

call  in  and  abrogate  the  same  commission."  The 
attempt  to  raise  money  on  the  basis  of  each  man's 
ratable  value  was  abandoned,  and  the  more  usual 
method  of  a  benevolence  was  substituted  in  its  stead. 

This,  however,  was  not  much  more  acceptable. 
Again  Wolsey  summoned  the  mayor  and  corpora- 
tion ;  but  they  had  now  grown  bolder,  and  pleaded 
that  benevolences  had  been  abolished  by  the  statute 
of  Richard  III.  Wolsey  angrily  answered  that  Rich- 
ard was  a  usurper  and  a  murderer  of  his  nephews ; 
how  could  his  acts  be  good  ?  "  An  it  please  your 
Grace,"  was  the  answer,  "  although  he  did  evil, 
yet  in  his  time  were  many  good  acts  made  not  by 
him  only,  but  by  the  consent  of  the  body  of  the 
whole  realm,  which  is  Parliament."  There  was 
nothing  more  to  be  said,  and  Wolsey  had  to  con- 
tent himself  with  leaving  every  man  to  contribute 
privily  what  he  would.  It  did  not  seem  that  this 
spontaneous  liberality  went  far  to  replenish  the 
royal  exchequer. 

What  happened  in  London  was  repeated  in  dif- 
ferent forms  in  various  parts  of  England.  In  Nor- 
wich there  was  a  tumult,  which  it  needed  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  to  appease.  He  asked 
the  confused  assembly  who  was  their  captain,  and 
bade  that  he  should  speak.  Then  out  spake  one 


182  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

John  Greene,  a  man  of  fifty  years.  "  My  Lord, 
since  you  ask  who  is  our  captain,  forsooth,  his 
name  is  Poverty ;  for  he  and  his  cousin  Necessity 
have  brought  us  to  this  doing.  For  all  these  per- 
sons and  many  more  live  not  of  ourselves,  but  we 
live  by  the  substantial  occupiers  of  this  country ; 
and  yet  they  give  us  so  little  wages  for  our  work- 
manship that  scarcely  we  be  able  to  live ;  and  thus 
in  penury  we  pass  the  time,  we,  our  wives  and  chil- 
dren :  and  if  they,  by  whom  we  live,  be  brought  in 
that  case  that  they  of  their  little  cannot  help  us  to 
earn  our  living,  then  must  we  perish  and  die  mis- 
erably. I  speak  this,  my  lord :  the  clothmakers 
have  put  away  all  their  people,  and  a  far  greater 
number,  from  work.  The  husbandmen  have  put 
away  their  servants  and  given  up  household ;  they 
say  the  king  asketh  so  much  that  they  be  not  able 
to  do  as  they  have  done  before  this  time,  and 
then  of  necessity  must  we  die  wretchedly." 

John  Greene's  speech  expressed  only  too  truly  the 
condition  of  affairs  in  a  period  of  social  change. 
The  old  nobility  had  declined,  and  the  old  form  of 
life  founded  on  feudalism  was  slowly  passing  away. 
Trade  was  becoming  more  important  than  agricul- 
ture ;  the  growth  of  wool  was  more  profitable  than 
the  growth  of  corn.  It  is  true  that  England  as  a 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  183 

whole  was  growing  richer,  and  that  the  standard  of 
comfort  was  rising ;  but  there  was  a  great  displace- 
ment of  labor,  and  consequent  discontent.  The 
towns  had  thriven  at  the  expense  of  the  country ; 
and  in  late  years  the  war  with  France  had  hindered 
trade  with  the  Netherlands.  The  custom  duties 
had  diminished,  the  drain  of  bullion  for  war  ex- 
penses had  crippled  English  commerce.  There  had 
been  a  succession  of  bad  seasons,  and  every  one  had 
begun  to  diminish  his  establishment  and  look  more 
carefully  after  his  expenditure. 

All  this  was  well  known  to  the  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
and  was  laid  before  the  king.  The  commissions  were 
recalled,  pardons  were  granted  to  the  rioters,  and  the 
loan  was  allowed  to  drop.  But  Wolsey  had  to  bear  all 
the  odium  of  the  unsuccessful  attempt,  while  the  king 
gained  all  the  popularity  of  abandoning  it.  Yet 
Henry  VIII.  resented  the  failure,  and  was  angry 
with  Wolsey  for  exposing  him  to  a  rebuff.  In  spite 
of  his  efforts  Wolsey  was  ceasing  to  be  so  useful  as 
he  had  been  before,  and  Henry  began  to  criticise  his 
minister.  Brave  and  resolute  as  Wolsey  was,  his 
labors  and  disappointments  began  to  tell  upon  him. 
Since  the  failure  of  the  Conference  of  Calais  he  had 
been  working  not  at  the  development  of  a  policy 
which  he  approved,  but  at  the  uncongenial  task  of 


184:  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

diminishing  the  dangers  of  a  policy  which  he  disap- 
proved. The  effects  of  this  constant  anxiety  told 
upon  his  health  and  spirits,  and  still  more  upon  his 
temper.  He  might  be  as  able  and  as  firm  as  ever, 
but  he  no  longer  had  the  same  confidence  in  him- 
self. 

It  was  perhaps  this  feeling  which  led  Wolsey  to 
show  the  king  the  extremity  of  his  desire  to  serve 
him  by  undertaking  the  desperate  endeavor  to  wring 
more  money  from  an  exhausted  people.  Wolsey 
had  done  his  utmost  to  satisfy  the  king ;  he  had  ac- 
cepted without  a  murmur  the  burden  of  popular  ha- 
tred which  the  attempt  was  sure  to  bring.  There  is 
a  pathos  in  his  words,  reported  by  an  unfriendly 
hand,  addressed  to  the  council;  " Because  every 
man  layeth  the  burden  from  him,  I  am  content  to 
take  it  on  me,  and  to  endure  the  fume  and  noise  of 
the  people,  for  my  goodwill  towards  the  king,  and 
comfort  of  you,  my  lords  and  other  the  king's  coun- 
cillors ;  but  the  eternal  Grod  knoweth  all. "  Nor  was 
it  enough  that  he  submitted  to  the  storm ;  he  wished 
to  give  the  king  a  further  proof  of  his  devotion. 
Though  others  might  withhold  their  substance,  yet 
he  would  not.  He  offered  the  king  his  house  at 
Hampton  Court,  which  he  had  built  as  his  favorite 
retreat,  and  had  adorned  to  suit  his  taste.  It  was 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  185 

indeed  a  royal  gift,  and  Henry  had  no  scruple  in  ac- 
cepting it.  But  the  offer  seems  to  show  an  uneasy 
desire  to  draw  closer  a  bond  which  had  been  gradu- 
ally loosened,  and  renew  an  intimacy  which  was  per- 
ceptibly diminishing. 

However,  in  one  way  Wolsey  had  a  right  to  feel 
satisfaction  even  in  his  ill-success.  If  money  was 
not  to  be  had,  war  was  impossible,  and  "Wolsey 
might  now  pursue  his  own  policy  and  work  for 
peace.  He  had  to  face  the  actual  facts  that  England 
was  allied  to  Charles,  who  had  won  a  signal  victory 
over  Francis,  and  had  in  his  hands  a  mighty  hostage 
in  the  person  of  the  King  of  France.  His  first  ob- 
ject was  to  discover  Charles  V.'s  intentions,  and  pre- 
vent him  from  using  his  advantage  solely  for  his 
own  profit.  Bishop  Tunstal  and  Sir  Richard  "Wing- 
field  were  sent  to  Charles  with  orders  to  put  on  a 
bold  face,  and  find  whether  Charles  thought  of  de- 
throning Francis  or  releasing  him  for  a  ransom.  In 
the  first  case,  they  were  to  offer  military  aid  from 
England;  in  the  second,  they  were  to  claim  for 
England  a  large  share  in  the  concessions  to  be  wrung 
out  of  Francis.  The  English  demands  were  so  ex- 
orbitant that  though  they  may  have  satisfied  the 
fantastic  aspirations  of  Henry,  "Wolsey  must  have 
known  them  to  be  impossible.  Under  cover  of  a 


186  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

friendly  proposal  to  Charles  he  was  really  preparing 
the  way  for  a  breach. 

Charles  on  his  side  was  engaged  in  playing  a  similar 
game.  In  spite  of  his  success  at  Pavia  he  was  really 
helpless.  He  had  no  money,  and  the  captivity  of  the 
French  king  awakened  so  much  alarm  in  Europe  that 
he  felt  compelled  to  use  his  advantage  moderately. 
As  a  first  measure  he  needed  money,  and  saw  no 
chance  of  obtaining  it  save  by  marrying  Isabella 
of  Portugal,  who  would  bring  him  a  dowry 
of  1,000,000  golden  crowns.*  For  this  purpose  he 
must  free  himself  from  the  engagement  of  the  treaty 
of  Windsor,  by  which  he  was  betrothed  to  Mary  of 
England.  So  he  acted  as  Wolsey  was  acting.  He 
professed  a  great  desire  to  carry  out  his  engagement 
as  a  means  of  getting  rid  of  it,  and  sent  ambas- 
sadors to  ask  that  Mary  and  her  dowry  should  be 
given  up  to  him,  with  a  further  loan  of  200,000 
ducats,  f 

The  two  embassies  had  crossed  on  the  way,  and 
Henry  received  Charles's  communication  as  an  an- 
swer to  his  demands.  In  this  way  it  served  Wolsey's 
purpose  admirably,  for  it  showed  clearly  enough 
that  the  interests  of  Henry  and  Charles  were  not 

*  The  golden  crown  of  Portugal  is  valued  at  $10.78. 
f  The  ducat  is  valued  at  $2.28. 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  187 

the  same.  Charles  was  bent  upon  pursuing  his  own 
advantage,  and  was  still  willing  to  use  Henry  as  a 
useful  ally;  but  Henry  saw  nothing  to  be  gained 
from  the  alliance,  and  the  time  had  come  when 
some  tangible  gain  was  to  be  secured  from  all  his 
expenditure.  Hitherto  he  had  been  personally  on 
Charles's  side,  but  in  his  conferences  with  the  im- 
perial envoys  in  the  month  of  June  he  made  it  clear 
that  his  patience  was  exhausted.  Henceforth  he 
accepted  Wolsey's  views  of  peace  with  France.  If 
Charles  was  striving  to  make  what  he  could  out  of 
the  captivity  of  the  French  king,  then  England 
might  as  well  join  in  the  scramble.  '  The  misfortune 
of  France  was  England's  opportunity.  If  Charles 
was  not  willing  to  share  his  gains  with  Henry,  then 
Henry  must  pick  up  what  he  could  for  himself.  It 
was  an  unwelcome  conclusion  for  Charles,  who  hoped 
to  bring  the  pressure  of  irresistible  necessity  to  bear 
on  his  captive.  If  England  also  joined  in  the  bid- 
ding its  competition  would  run  down  his  price. 

Moreover,  this  resolution  of  Henry  made  a  great 
change  in  his  domestic  relations.  Queen  Katharine 
was  devoted  to  her  nephew's  interests,  and  had  ex- 
ercised considerable  influence  over  her  husband. 
They  talked  together  about  politics,  and  Henry 
liked  to  move  amidst  acquiescent  admiration.  All 


188  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

that  was  now  at  an  end,  as  Katharine  could  not 
change  her  sympathies,  and  had  not  the  tact  to  dis- 
guise her  disapprobation.  From  this  time  forward 
Henry  did  not  treat  her  with  the  affection  and  fam- 
iliarity which  had  been  his  wont,  and  when  he 
made  up  his  mind  he  did  not  scruple  to  emphasize 
his  decision  by  his  acts.  He  had  not  been  a  faith- 
ful husband,  but  hitherto  his  infidelity  had  not  been 
a  cause  of  domestic  discord.  He  had  an  illegitimate 
son,  Henry  Fitzroy,  by  Elizabeth  Blunt,  one  of  the 
Queen's  ladies-in-waiting;  and  on  15th  June  he 
created  this  boy  of  six  years  old  Duke  of  Richmond. 
This  he  did  with  a  display  of  pomp  and  ceremony 
which  must  have  been  very  offensive  to  the  Queen ; 
nor  was  the  offence  diminished  when,  a  month  after- 
wards, the  boy  was  created  Lord  High  Admiral  of 
England.  Such  an  act  was,  to  say  the  least,  a  taunt 
to  Katharine  that  she  had  borne  no  son ;  it  was  a 
public  proclamation  of  the  king's  disappointment 
and  discontent  with  his  matrimonial  lot.  The  luck- 
less Katharine  could  make  no  complaint,  and  was 
forced  to  submit  to  the  king's  will;  but  we  cannot 
doubt  that  she  put  down  to  Wolsey  what  was  not 
his  due,  and  that  Wolsey  had  to  bear  the  hatred 
of  her  friends  for  the  king's  change  of  policy,  and 
all  that  flowed  from  it. 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  189 

However,  Wolsey's  course  was  now  clearly  to 
dissolve  the  imperial  alliance  without  causing  a 
breach.  For  this  purpose  he  used  Charles's  desire 
for  his  Portuguese  marriage.  He  offered  to  release 
Charles  from  his  engagement  to  Mary  on  condition 
that  the  treaty  was  annulled,  that  he  paid  his  debts 
to  Henry,  and  concluded  a  peace  with  France  to 
England's  satisfaction.  Charles  refused  to  take  any 
step  so  decided,  and  the  negotiations  proceeded. 
But  Wolsey's  attention  was  not  so  much  directed 
to  Charles  as  to  France,  where  Louise,  the  king's 
mother,  was  desperately  striving  to  procure  her  son's 
release.  In  their  dealings  with  France  there  was  a 
keen  rivalry  between  England  and  the  Emperor, 
which  should  succeed  in  making  terms  soonest. 
In  this  competition  Wolsey  had  one  advantage; 
he  had  already  learned  the  stubbornness  of  the 
national  spirit  of  France,  and  its  willingness  to 
submit  to  anything  rather  than  territorial  loss. 
So,  while  Charles  haggled  for  provinces,  Wolsey 
demanded  money.  He  told  the  French  envoys 
that  in  order  to  make  peace,  without  having  won 
laurels  to  justify  it,  Henry  could  not  take  less 
than  2,000,000  crowns,*  and  he  would  hear  of  no 
abatement.  There  was  much  discussion  of  all  the 
*  $2,420,000. 


190  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

old  claims  of  England  for  compensation  from 
France,  but  Wolsey  knew  the  necessity  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  carried  all  his  points. 

"When  the  terms  were  agreed  upon  there  was  an- 
other discussion  about  the  security  to  be  given. 
Francis  was  a  prisoner  in  Spain,  and  though  his 
mother  was  regent,  a  doubt  might  be  thrown  upon 
her  capacity  to  ratify  such  an  important  treaty. 
Wolsey  would  admit  no  doubts  in  the  matter.  He 
knew  that  peace  with  France  would  not  be  popular, 
but  he  was  determined  that  his  master  should  see 
its  advantage  in  the  substantial  form  of  ready 
money  with  good  security  for  its  payment.  Besides 
ratification  by  the  regent  he  demanded  the  personal 
security  of  several  French  nobles,  of  towns  and  local 
estates.  At  length  he  was  satisfied.  The  treaty 
was  signed  on  30th  August,  and  was  published  on 
6th  September.  Henry  was  to  receive  2,000,000 
crowns  in  annual  instalments  of  50,000;  the  treaty 
included  Scotland  as  an  ally  of  France,  and  it  was 
stipulated  that  the  Duke  of  Albany  was  not  to 
return.  Scotland,  left  unprotected,  was  bound  to 
follow  France,  and  in  January,  1526,  peace  was 
signed  with  Scotland  to  the  satisfaction  of  both 
countries. 

Wolsey  could  congratulate  himself  on  the  result 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  191 

of  his  work.  Again  he  had  won  for  England  a 
strong  position,  by  setting  her  in  the  forefront  of 
the  opposition  to  the  overweening  power  of  the 
empire.  Again  had  England's  action  done  much 
to  restore  the  equilibrium  of  Europe.  This  had 
been  achieved  solely  by  Wolsey's  diplomacy. 
Charles  Y.  had  received  a  blow  which  he  could 
neither  parry  nor  resent.  The  French  treaty  with 
England  deprived  Charles  of  the  means  of  exercis- 
ing irresistible  pressure  upon  Francis,  and  en- 
couraged the  Italian  States  to  form  an  alliance 
against  the  Emperor.  Francis,  weary  of  his  long 
captivity,  signed  the  treaty  of  Madrid,  and  obtained 
his  freedom  in  February,  1526.  But  he  previously 
protested  against  it  as  extorted  by  violence,  and  re- 
fused to  surrender  an  inch  of  French  territory  not- 
withstanding his  promises.  Charles  gained  little  by 
his  victory  at  Pavia.  His  hands  were  again  full,  as 
the  Turks  invaded  Hungary,  and  Francis  joined  the 
Italian  League  against  him.  He  still  had  every 
motive  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  England,  and 
Wolsey  had  no  desire  to  precipitate  a  breach. 

So  Wolsey's  policy  for  the  future  was  one  of  cau- 
tion and  reserve.  The  king  withdrew  more  and 
more  from  public  affairs,  and  spent  his  time  in  hunt- 
ing. His  relations  with  Katharine  became  day  by 


192  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

day  more  irksome,  and  he  tried  to  forget  his  domes- 
tic life  by  leading  a  life  of  pleasure.  Wolsey  strove 
to  hold  the  balance  between  Charles  and  Francis 
without  unduly  inclining  to  either  side.  Both 
wished  to  be  on  good  terms  with  England,  for 
neither  was  free  from  anxiety.  The  sons  of  Francis 
were  hostages  in  Spain,  and  Charles  was  hampered 
by  the  opposition  of  the  Italian  League.  Of  this 
League  Henry  VIII.  was  a  member,  but  he  declined 
to  give  it  any  active  support.  The  Italians,  as 
usual,  were  divided,  and  Clement  VII.  was  not  the 
man  to  direct  their  distracted  councils  successfully. 
In  September,  1526,  a  small  force  of  Spaniards, 
aided  by  a  party  amongst  the  Roman  barons,  sur- 
prised Eome,  sacked  the  papal  palace,  and  filled 
Clement  with  terror.  Charles  V.  disavowed  any 
share  in  this  attack,  and  excused  himself  before 
Henry's  remonstrances.  But  as  Clement  did  not 
entirely  amend  his  ways,  the  experiment  was  re- 
peated on  a  larger  scale.  In  May,  1527,  the  imperial 
troops  under  the  Duke  of  Bourbon  and  the  German 
general  George  Frundsberg  captured  and  plundered 
Kome,  and  took  the  Pope  Clement  VII.  prisoner.  * 

*  "  The  Germans  stood  in  battalions.  But  when  they  saw 
the  Spaniards  broken  up  and  plundering,  the  desire  was 
aroused  in  them  also  ;  and  now  a  spirit  of  emulation  appeared, 
as  to  which  nation  could  outdo  the  other  in  cruelty.  The 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  193 

This  unwonted  deed  filled  Europe  with  horror.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  Emperor  had  joined  the  enemies  of 
the  Church. 

Spaniards,  it  is  asserted  by  impartial  Italians,  carried  the  day. 
There  had  been  no  siege,  no  bombardment,  no  flight  of  any 
great  extent ;  but  as  if  the  earth  had  opened,  and  had  dis- 
gorged a  legion  of  devils,  so  suddenly .  came  these  hosts. 
Everything  was  in  a  moment  abandoned  to  them.  We  must 
endeavor  to  conceive  what  kind  of  men  these  German  soldiers 
were.  They  formed  an  intermediate  class  between  the  prime 
and  the  refuse  of  the  people.  Gathered  together  by  the  hope 
of  booty,  indifferent  to  what  end  was  assigned  them,  rendered 
wild  by  hunger  and  tardy  pay,  left  without  a  master  after 
the  death  of  their  commander  [Bourbon  was  slain  upon  the 
walls  of  the  city] ,  they  found  themselves  unrestrained  in  the 
most  luxurious  city  of  the  world — a  city  abounding  with  gold 
and  riches,  and  at  the  same  time  decried  for  centuries  in  Ger- 
many, as  the  infernal  nest  of  popes,  who  lived  there  as  incarnate 
devils,  in  the  midst  of  their  Babylonian  doings.  The  opinion 
that  the  pope  of  Rome,  and  Clement  VII.  in  particular,  was 
the  devil,  prevailed  not  only  in  Germany,  but  in  Italy  and 
in  Rome  the  people  called  him  so.  .  .  .  Prisoners  of  war 
were  at  that  time  regarded  as  slaves  ;  they  were  carried  away 
as  personal  property,  or  a  ransom  was  extorted.  .  .  .  This 
system  was  carried  to  a  great  pitch  in  Rome.  The  possessors 
of  palaces  were  obliged  to  purchase  their  ransom,  the  Spanish 
cardinals  as  well  as  the  Italian — no  difference  was  made. 
Thus  at  least  escape  was  possible.  .  .  .  And  as  the  people 
were  treated,  so  were  the  things.  Upon  the  inlaid  marble 
floor  of  the  Vatican,  where  the  Prince  of  Orange  took  up  his 
abode — the  command  of  the  army  devolving  upon  him  after 
Bourbon's  death — the  soldiers  lighted  their  fire.  The  splendid 
stained  glass  windows,  executed  by  William  of  Marseilles, 
were  broken  for  the  sake  of  the  lead.  Raphael's  tapestries 
were  pronounced  excellent  booty ;  in  the  paintings  on  the 
walls  the  eyes  were  put  out ;  and  valuable  documents  were 
given  as  straw  to  the  horses  which  stood  in  the  Sistine 


194:  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

During  this  period  Wolsey  had  been  cautiously 
drawing  nearer  to  France.  At  first  he  only  con- 
templated strengthening  the  ties  which  bound  the 
two  countries  together;  but  in  the  beginning  of 
1527  he  was  willing  to  form  a  close  alliance  with 
France,  which  must  lead  to  a  breach  with  the  Em- 
peror. French  commissioners  came  to  London,  and 
a  proposal  was  made  that  Francis  should  marry 
Mary,  then  a  child  of  ten,  though  he  was  betrothed 
to  the  Emperor's  sister  Eleanor.  Wolsey's  demands 
were  high:  a  perpetual  peace  between  the  two 
countries,  a  perpetual  pension  of  50,000  crowns  to 
the  English  king,  a  tribute  of  salt,  and  the  sur- 
render of  Boulogne  and  Ardres.  In  the  course  of 
the  discussion  the  son  of  Francis,  the  Duke  of  Or- 
leans, was  substituted  for  the  father  as  Mary's  hus- 
band ;  on  all  other  points  Wolsey  had  his  will,  and 
never  did  he  show  himself  a  more  consummate 
master  of  diplomacy.  The  treaty  was  signed  on 

Chapel.  The  statues  in  the  streets  were  thrown  down  ;  the 
images  of  the  Mother  of  God  in  the  churches  were  broken  to 
pieces.  For  six  months  the  city  thus  remained  in  the  power 
of  the  soldiery,  who  had  lost  all  discipline.  Pestilence  and 
famine  appeared.  Rome  had  more  than  90,000  inhabitants 
under  Leo  X. ;  when  Clement  VII.  returned  a  year  after  the 
conquest,  scarcely  a  third  of  that  number  then  existed — 
poor,  famished  people  who  had  remained  behind,  because 
they  knew  not  whither  to  turn." — HERMAN  GRIMM. 


RENEWAL  OF  PEACE.  195 

30th  April.  The  debts  of  Charles  were  transferred 
to  Francis,  and  "Wolsey  could  show  that  he  had 
made  a  substantial  gain. 

Doubtless  Wolsey  intended  that  this  peace  with 
France  should  form  the  basis  of  a  universal  peace, 
which  he  never  ceased  to  pursue.  The  success  of 
Charles  V.  in  Italy,  and  subsequent  events  at  home, 
rapidly  dispelled  his  hopes.  Already  the  self  will  of 
Henry  VIII.  had  driven  him  to  consent  to  meas- 
ures which  were  against  his  judgment;  the  same 
self  will,  turned  to  domestic  and  personal  affairs, 
was  already  threatening  to  involve  Wolsey  in  a 
matter  whose  far-reaching  effects  no  man  could 
foresee. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 
WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY. 

have  been  following  the  laborious  career  of 
"Wolsey  in  his  direction  of  foreign  affairs.  He  held 
in  his  hands  the  threads  of  complicated  negotiations, 
by  which  he  was  endeavoring  to  assure  England's 
power  on  the  Continent,  not  by  means  of  war  but 
by  skilful  diplomacy.  In  doing  this  he  had  to 
guard  the  commercial  relations  of  England  with 
the  Netherlands,  and  had  also  to  bow  before  the 
selfwill  of  the  king,  who  insisted  on  pursuing  fan- 
tastic designs  of  personal  aggrandizement.  Still  he 
steered  a  careful  course  amid  many  difficulties, 
though  when  he  looked  back  upon  his  labors  of 
thirteen  years  he  must  have  owned  to  serious  dis- 
appointment. Perhaps  he  sometimes  asked  him- 
self the  question,  if  foreign  policy  was  worthy  of 
the  best  attention  of  an  English  minister,  if  he  had 
not  erred  in  adventuring  on  such  large  schemes 
abroad.  There  was  much  to  do  at  home;  many 
useful  measures  of  reform  awaited  only  a  conve- 

196 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  197 

nient  season.  He  had  hoped,  when  first  he  began 
his  course,  to  have  seen  England  long  before  this 
time  peaceful  and  powerful,  the  arbiter  of  Euro- 
pean affairs,  a  pattern  to  other  kingdoms,  dealing 
honestly  and  sagaciously  with  the  pressing  needs 
of  the  time.  He  had  labored  incessantly  for  that 
end,  but  it  was  as  far  off  as  ever.  The  year  1527  saw 
England  exhausted  by  useless  wars,  and  Europe 
plunged  in  irreconcilable  strife.  "Wolsey's  dream 
of  a  united  Europe,  cautiously  moved  by  England's 
moderating  counsels,  had  vanished  before  forces 
which  he  could  not  control. 

Meanwhile  domestic  reforms  had  been  thrust  into 
the  background.  Wolsey  was  keenly  alive  to  their 
importance,  and  had  a  distinct  policy  which  he 
wished  to  carry  out.  He  had  carefully  gathered 
into  his  hands  the  power  which  would  enable  him 
to  act,  but  he  could  not  find  the  time  for  definite 
action.  Something  he  contrived  to  do,  so  as  to 
prepare  the  way  for  more ;  but  his  schemes  were 
never  revealed  in  their  entirety,  though  he  trained 
the  men  who  afterwards  carried  them  out  though  in 
a  crude  and  brutal  shape. 

England  was  passing  through  a  period  of  social 
change  which  necessitated  a  re-adjustment  of  old 
institutions.  The  decay  of  feudalism  in  the  Wars 


198  LIFE  OP  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

of  the  Eoses  had  been  little  noticed,  but  its  results 
had  been  profound.  In  the  sphere  of  government 
the  check  exercised  by  the  barons  on  the  Crown 
was  destroyed.  Henry  VII.  carefully  depressed 
the  baronage  and  spared  the  pockets  of  the  people, 
who  were  willing  to  have  the  conduct  of  affairs  in 
the  hands  of  the  king  so  long  as  he  kept  order  and 
guarded  the  commercial  interests,  which  were  more 
and  more  absorbing  national  energies.  The  nation 
wished  for  a  strong  government  to  put  down  an- 
archy and  maintain  order ;  but  the  nation  was  not 
willing  to  bear  the  cost  of  a  strong  government  on 
constitutional  principles.  Henry  VII.  soon  found 
that  he  might  do  what  he  liked  provided  he  did  not 
ask  for  money ;  he  might  raise  supplies  by  uncon- 
stitutional exactions  on  individuals  provided  he  did 
not  embarrass  the  bulk  of  the  middle  classes,  who 
were  busied  with  trade.  The  nobles,  the  rich  land- 
owners, the  wealthy  merchants,  were  left  to  the 
king's  mercies;  so  long  as  the  pockets  of  the  com- 
mons were  spared  they  troubled  themselves  no 
further. 

Henry  VII.  recognized  this  condition  of  national 
feeling,  and  pursued  a  policy  of  levelling  class 
privileges  and  cautiously  heeding  the  popular  inter- 
ests ;  by  these  means  he  established  the  royal  power 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  199 

on  a  strong  basis,  and  carried  on  his  government 
through  capable  officials,  who  took  their  instruc- 
tions from  himself.  Some  of  the  old  nobles  held 
office,  but  they  were  gradually  reduced  to  the  same 
level  as  the  other  officials  with  whom  they  con- 
sorted. The  power  of  the  old  nobility  passed 
silently  away. 

With  this  political  change  a  social  change  cor- 
responded. The  barons  of  former  years  were  great 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  their  retainers  and 
the  strength  of  their  castles.  Now  retainers  were 
put  down  by  the  Star  Chamber;  and  the  feudal 
lord  was  turned  into  the  country  gentleman.  Land 
changed  hands  rapidly;  opulent  merchants  pos- 
sessed themselves  of  estates.  The  face  of  the 
country  began  to  wear  a  new  look,  for  the  new 
landlords  did  not  desire  a  numerous  tenantry  but  a 
large  income.  The  great  trade  of  England  was 
wool,  which  was  exported  to  Flanders.  Tillage 
lands  were  thrown  into  pasture;  small  holders 
found  it  more  difficult  to  live  on  their  holdings; 
complaints  were  heard  that  the  country  was  being 
depopulated.  England  was  slowly  passing  through  "A 
an  economic  change  which  involved  a  displacement  \ 
of  population,  and  consequent  misery  on  the  labor- 
classes.  No  doubt  there  was  a  great  increase 


200  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

in  national  prosperity ;  but  prosperity  was  not  uni- 
versally diffused  at  once,  and  men  were  keenly  con- 
scious of  present  difficulties.  Beneath  the  surface 
of  society  there  was  a  widespread  feeling  of  discon- 
tent. 

Moreover,  among  thinking  men  a  new  spirit  was 
beginning  to  prevail.  In  Italy  this  new  spirit  was 
manifest  by  quickened  curiosity  about  the  world 
and  life,  and  found  its  expression  in  a  study  of 
classical  antiquity.  Curiosity  soon  led  to  criticism ; 
and  before  the  new  criticism  the  old  ideas  on  which 
the  intellectual  life  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  built 
were  slowly  passing  away.  Ehetoric  took  the  place 
of  logic,  and  the  study  of  the  classics  superseded 
the  study  of  theology.  This  movement  of  thought 
slowly  found  its  way  to  England,  where  it  began  to 
influence  the  higher  minds. 

Thus  England  was  going  through  a  crisis  politi- 
cally, socially,  and  intellectually,  when  Wolsey 
undertook  the  management  of  affairs.  This  crisis 
was  not  acute,  and  did  not  call  for  immediate 
measures  of  direction;  but  Wolsey  was  aware  of 
its  existence,  and  had  his  own  plans  for  the  future. 
We  must  regret  that  he  put  foreign  policy  in  the 
first  place,  and  reserved  his  constructive  measures 
for  domestic  affairs.  The  time  seemed  ripe  for 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  201 

great  achievements  abroad,  and  Wolsey  was  hope- 
ful of  success.  He  may  be  pardoned  for  his  lofty 
aspirations,  for  if  he  had  succeeded  England  would 
have  led  the  way  in  a  deliberate  settlement  of  many 
questions  which  concerned  the  wellbeing  of  the 
whole  of  Christendom.  But  success  eluded  Wol- 
sey 's  grasp,  and  he  fell  from  power  before  he  had 
time  to  trace  decidedly  the  lines  on  which  England 
might  settle  her  problems  for  herself;  and  when 
the  solution  came  it  was  strangely  entangled  in  the 
personal  questions  which  led  to  Wolsey 's  fall  from 
power.  Yet  even  here  we  may  doubt  if  the  meas- 
ures of  the  English  Reformation  would  have  been 
possible  if  "Wolsey 's  mind  had  not  inspired  the  king 
and  the  nation  with  a  heightened  consciousness  of 
England's  power  and  dignity.  Wolsey 's  diplomacy 
at  least  tore  away  all  illusions  about  Pope  and  Em- 
peror, and  the  opinion  of  Europe,  and  taught  Henry 
YIII.  the  measure  of  his  own  strength. 

It  was  impossible  that  Wolsey 's  powerful  hand 
should  not  leave  its  impression  upon  everything 
which  it  touched.  If  Henry  YIII.  inherited  a 
strong  monarchy,  Wolsey  made  the  basis  of  mon- 
archical power  still  stronger.  It  was  natural  that 
he  should  do  so,  as  he  owed  his  own  position  entire- 
ly to  the  royal  favor.  But  never  had  any  king  so 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

devoted  a  servant  as  had  Henry  VIII. ,  in  Wolsey ; 
and  this  devotion  was  not  entirely  due  to  motives  of 
selfish  calculation  or  to  personal  attraction.  "Wol- 
sey saw  in  the  royal  power  the  only  possible  means 
of  holding  England  together  and  guiding  it  through 
the  dangers  of  impending  change.  In  his  eyes  the 
king  and  the  king  alone  could  collect  and  give  ex- 
pression to  the  national  will.  England  itself  was 
unconscious  of  its  capacities,  and  was  heedless  about 
the  future.  The  nobles,  so  far  as  they  had  any 
policy,  were  only  desirous  to  win  back  their  old 
position.  The  Church  was  no  longer  the  inspirer 
of  popular  aspirations  or  the  bulwark  of  popular 
freedom.  Its  riches  were  regarded  with  a  jeal- 
ous eye  by  the  middle  classes,  who  were  busied 
with  trade ;  the  defects  of  its  organization  had  been 
deplored  by  its  most  spiritually-minded  sons  for  a 
century ;  its  practices,  if  not  its  tenets,  awakened 
the  ridicule  of  men  of  intelligence ;  its  revenues  sup- 
plied the  king  with  officials  more  than  they  supplied 
the  country  with  faithful  pastors ;  its  leaders  were 
content  to  look  to  the  .king  for  patronage  and  pro- 
tection. The  traders  of  the  towns  and  the  new 
landlords  of  the  country  appreciated  the  growth  of 
their  fortunes  in  a  period  of  internal  quiet,  and 
dreaded  anything  that  might  bring  back  discord. 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  2Q3 

The  laboring  classes  felt  that  redress  of  their  griev- 
ances was  more  possible  from  a  far-off  king  than  from 
landlords  who,  in  their  eyes,  were  bent  upon  extor- 
tion. Every  class  looked  to  the  king,  and  was  con- 
fident in  his  good  intentions.  We  cannot  wonder 
that  "Wolsey  saw  in  the  royal  power  the  only  pos- 
sible instrument  strong  enough  to  work  reforms,  and 
set  himself  with  goodwill  to  make  that  instrument 
efficacious. 

So  Wolsey  was  in  no  sense  a  constitutional  min- 
ister, nor  did  he  pay  much  heed  to  constitutional 
forms.  Parliament  was  only  summoned  once  dur- 
ing the  time  that  he  was  in  office,  and  then  he  tried 
to  browbeat  Parliament  and  set  aside  its  prerogatives. 
In  his  view  the  only  function  of  Parliament  was  to 
grant  money  for  the  king's  needs.  The  king  should 
say  how  much  he  needed,  and  Parliament  ought  only 
to  advise  how  this  sum  might  most  conveniently  be 
raised.  "We  have  seen  that  Wolsey  failed  in  his  at- 
tempt to  convert  Parliament  into  a  submissive  in- 
strument of  royal  despotism.  He  under- estimated 
the  strength  of  constitutional  forms  and  the  influence 
of  precedent.  Parliament  was  willing  to  do  its  ut- 
most to  meet  the  wishes  of  the  king,  but  it  would 
not  submit  to  Wolsey 's  high-handed  dictation.  The 
habits  of  diplomacy  had  impaired  Wolsey 's  sagacity 


204  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

in  other  fields ;  he  had  been  so  busy  in  managing 
emperors  and  kings  that  he  had  forgotten  how  to 
deal  with  his  fellow-countrymen.  He  was  unwise 
in  his  attempt  to  force  the  king's  will  upon  Parlia- 
ment as  an  unchangeable  law  of  its  action.  Henry 
YIIL  looked  on  and  learned  from  Wolsey's  failure, 
and  when  he  took  the  management  of  Parliament 
into  his  own  hands  he  showed  himself  a  consummate 
master  of  that  craft.  His  skill  in  this  direction  has 
scarcely  been  sufficiently  estimated,  and  his  success 
has  been  put  down  to  the  servility  of  Parliament. 
But  Parliament  was  by  no  means  servile  under 
"Wolsey's  overbearing  treatment.  If  it  was  sub- 
servient to  Henry  the  reason  is  to  be  found  in  his 
skilful  tactics.  He  conciliated  different  interests  at 
different  times ;  he  mixed  the  redress  of  acknowl- 
edged grievances  with  the  assertion  of  far-reaching 
claims ;  he  decked  out  selfish  motives  in  fair-sound- 
ing language ;  he  led  men  on  step  by  step  till  they 
were  insensibly  pledged  to  measures  more  drastic 
than  they  approved;  he  kept  the  threads  of  his 
policy  in  his  own  hands  till  the  only  escape  from 
utter  confusion  was  an  implicit  confidence  in  his  wis- 
dom ;  he  made  it  almost  impossible  for  those  who 
were  dissatisfied  to  find  a  point  on  which  they  could 
establish  a  principle  for  resistance.  He  was  so  skilful 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  205 

that  Parliament  at  last  gave  him  even  the  power 
over  the  purse,  and  Henry,  without  raising  a  mur- 
mur, imposed  taxes  which  Wolsey  would  not  have 
dared  to  suggest.  It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that 
Henry,  perhaps  taught  in  some  degree  by  Crom- 
well,* understood  the  temper  of  the  English  people 
far  better  than  Wolsey  ever  did.  He  established 
the  royal  power  on  a  broader  and  securer  basis  than 
Wolsey  could  have  erected.  Where  Wolsey  would 
have  made  the  Crown  independent  of  Parliament, 
Henry  VIII.  reduced  Parliament  to  be  a  willing 
instrument  of  the  royal  will.  Wolsey  would  have 
subverted  the  constitution,  or  at  least  would  have 
reduced  it  to  a  lifeless  form ;  Henry  VIII.  so  worked 
the  constitutional  machinery  that  it  became  an  addi- 
tional source  of  power  to  his  monarchy. 

*  Thomas  Cromwell  (1490  ?-1540)  w^.s  in  early  life  a  friend 
of  Wolsey.  He  became  an  adherent  of  the  reformation 
and  was  a  friend  of  Cranmer.  Entering  the  service  of  Henry 
VIII.  he  rose  rapidly  to  prominence.  In  1535  he  was  ap- 
pointed secretary  of  state  and  keeper  of  the  seal.  In  1536  the 
king's  supremacy  over  the  church  was  delegated  to  him  with 
the  title  of  Vicar-General.  He  was  created  earl  of  Essex 
about  1540.  His  agency  in  the  marriage  of  Henry  VIII.  to 
Anne  of  Cleves  entangled  him  in  fatal  toils.  He  was  executed 
for  alleged  treason  and  heresy.  His  character  is  differently 
estimated  by  different  historians,  some  praising  him  highly, 
and  others  regarding  him  as  only  a  selfish  and  rapacious 
courtier.  Hume  says  that  he  was  "  worthy  of  a  better  master 
and  a  better  fate,"  which  will  hardly  be  denied. 


206  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

But  though  Wolsey  was  not  successful  in  his 
method  of  making  the  royal  power  supreme  over 
Parliament,  he  took  the  blame  of  failure  upon 
himself,  and  saved  the  king's  popularity.  "Wolsey 's 
devotion  to  his  master  was  complete,  and  cannot  be 
assigned  purely  to  selfish  motives.  Wolsey  felt  that 
his  opinions,  his  policy,  his  aspirations  had  been 
formed  through  his  intercourse  with  the  king ;  and 
he  was  only  strong  when  he  and  his  master  were 
thoroughly  at  one.  At  first  the  two  men  had  been 
in  complete  agreement,  and  it  cost  Wolsey  many  a 
pang  when  he  found  that  Henry  did  not  entirely 
agree  with  his  conclusions.  After  the  imperial  alli- 
ance was  made  Wolsey  lost  much  of  his  brilliancy, 
his  dash,  and  his  force.  This  was  not  the  result  of 
age,  or  fatigue,  or  hopelessness  so  much  as  of  the 
feeling  that  he  and  the  king  were  no  longer  in  ac- 
cord. Like  many  other  strong  men,  Wolsey  was 
sensitive.  He  did  not  care  for  popularity,  but  he 
felt  the  need  of  being  understood  and  trusted.  He 
gave  the  king  his  affection,  and  he  craved  for  a  re- 
turn. There  was  no  one  else  who  could  understand 
him  or  appreciate  his  aims,  and  when  he  felt  that 
he  was  valued  for  his  usefulness  rather  than  trusted 
for  what  he  was  in  himself,  the  spring  of  his  life's 
energy  was  gone. 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  207 

Still  Wolsey  labored  in  all  things  to  exalt  the 
royal  power,  for  in  it  he  saw  the  only  hope  of  the 
future,  and  England  endorsed  his  opinion.  But 
Wolsey  was  too  great  a  man  to  descend  to  servility, 
and  Henry  always  treated  him  with  respect.  In  fact 
Wolsey  always  behaved  with  a  strong  sense  of  his 
.personal  dignity,  and  carried  stickling  for  decorum 
to  the  verge  of  punctiliousness.  Doubtless  he  had 
a  decided  taste  for  splendor  and  magnificence,  but 
it  is  scarcely  fair  to  put  this  down  to  the  arrogance 
of  an  upstart,  as  was  done  by  his  English  contem- 
poraries. Wolsey  believed  in  the  influence  of  out- 
ward display  on  the  popular  mind,  and  did  his 
utmost  to  throw  over  the  king  a  veil  of  unapproach- 
able grandeur  and  unimpeachable  rectitude.  He 
took  upon  himself  the  burden  of  the  king's  respon- 
sibilities, and  stood  forward  to  shield  him  against 
the  danger  of  losing  the  confidence  of  his  people. 
As  the  king's  representative  he  assumed  a  royal 
state;  he  wished  men  to  see  that  they  were 
governed  from  above,  and  he  strove  to  accustom 
them  to  the  pomp  of  power.  In  his  missions 
abroad,  and  in  his  interviews  with  foreign  ambas- 
sadors, he  was  still  more  punctilious  than  in  the 
matters  of  domestic  government.  If  the  king  was 
always  to  be  regarded  as  the  king,  Wolsey,  as  the 


208  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

mouthpiece  of  the  royal  will,  never  abated  his 
claims  to  honor  only  less  than  royal ;  but  he  acted 
not  so  much  from  self-assertion  as  from  policy.  At 
home  and  abroad  equally  the  greatness  of  the  royal 
power  was  to  be  unmistakably  set  forth,  and  osten- 
tation was  an  element  in  the  game  of  brag  to  which 
a  spirited  foreign  policy  inevitably  degenerates.  It 
was  for  the  king's  sake  that  Wolsey  magnified  him- 
self; he  never  assumed  an  independent  position, 
but  all  his  triumphs  were  loyally  laid  at  the  king's 
feet.  In  this  point,  again,  Wolsey  overshot  the 
mark,  and  did  not  understand  the  English  people, 
who  were  not  impressed  in  the  manner  which  he 
intended.  When  Henry  took  the  government  more 
directly  into  his  own  hands  he  managed  better  for 
himself,  for  he  knew  how  to  identify  the  royal  will 
with  the  aspirations  of  the  people,  and  clothed  his 
despotism  with  the  appearance  of  paternal  solici- 
tude. He  made  the  people  think  that  he  lived  for 
them,  and  that  their  interests  were  his,  whereas 
Wolsey  endeavored  to  convince  the  people  that  the 
king  alone  could  guard  their  interests,  and  that 
their  only  course  was  to  put  entire  confidence  in 
him.  Henry  saw  that  men  were  easier  to  cajole 
than  to  convince ;  he  worked  for  no  system  of  royal 
authority,  but  contented  himself  with  establishing 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  209 

his  own  will.  In  spite  of  the  disadvantage  of  a 
royal  education,  Henry  was  a  more  thorough  Eng- 
lishman than  Wolsey,  though  Wolsey  sprang  from 
the  people. 

It  was  Wolsey's  teaching,  however,  that  pre- 
pared Henry  for  his  task.  The  king  who  could 
use  a  minister  like  Wolsey  and  then  throw  him 
away  when  he  was  no  longer  useful,  felt  that  there 
was  no  limitation  to  his  self-sufficiency. 

"Wolsey,  indeed,  was  a  minister  in  a  sense  which 
had  never  been  seen  in  England  before,  for  he  held 
in  his  hand  the  chief  power  alike  in  Church  and 
State.  Not  only  was  he  chancellor,  but  also  Arch- 
bishop of  York,  and  endowed  beside  with  special 
legatine  powers.  These  powers  were  not  coveted 
merely  for  purposes  of  show :  Wolsey  intended  to 
use  them,  when  opportunity  offered,  as  a  means 
of  bringing  the  Church  under  the  royal  power  as 
completely  as  he  wished  to  subject  the  State.  He 
had  little  respect  for  the  ecclesiastical  organization 
as  such ;  he  saw  its  obvious  weaknesses,  and  wished 
to  provide  a  remedy.  If  he  was  a  candidate  for 
the  Papacy  it  was  from  no  desire  to  pursue  an  ec- 
clesiastical policy  of  his  own,  but  to  make  the  papal 
power  subservient  to  England's  interests.  He  was 
sufficiently  clear-sighted  to  perceive  that  national 
1.4 


210  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

aspirations  could  not  much  longer  be  repressed  by 
the  high-sounding  claims  of  the  Papacy;  he  saw 
that  the  system  of  the  Church  must  be  adapted  to 
the  conditions  of  the  time,  and  he  wished  to  avert  a 
revolution  by  a  quiet  process  of  steady  and  reason- 
able reform.  He  was  perhaps  honest  in  saying  that 
he  was  not  greatly  anxious  for  the  Papacy ;  for  he 
knew  that  England  gave  him  ample  scope  for  his 
energies,  and  he  hoped  that  the  example  of  Eng- 
land would  spread  throughout  Europe.  So  at  the 
beginning  of  his  career  he  pressed  for  legatine 
powers,  which  were  grudgingly  granted  by  Leo  X. , 
first  for  one  year,  and  afterwards  for  five ;  till  the 
gratitude  of  Clement  VII.  conferred  them  for  life. 
Clothed  with  this  authority,  and  working  in  con- 
cert with  the  king,  Wolsey  was  supreme  over 
the  English  Church,  and  perhaps  dreamed  of  a  fu- 
ture in  which  the  Koman  Pontiff  would  practically 
resign  his  claims  over  the  northern  churches  to  an 
English  delegate,  who  might  become  his  equal  or 
superior  in  actual  power. 

However  this  might  be,  he  certainly  contemplated 
the  reform  of  the  English  Church  by  means  of  a 
judicious  mixture  of  royal  and  ecclesiastical  author- 
ity. Everything  was  propitious  for  such  an  under- 
taking, as  the  position  of  the  Church  was  felt  to  be 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  211 

in  many  ways  anomalous  and  antiquated.  The  ris- 
ing middle  class  had  many  grievances  to  complain  of 
from  the  ecclesiastical  courts;  the  new  landlords  I 
looked  with  contempt  on  the  management  of  mo- 
nastic estates ;  the  new  learning  mocked  at  the  ignor- 
ance of  the  clergy,  and  scoffed  at  the  superstitions 
of  a  simpler  past  which  had  survived  unduly  into  an 
age  when  criticism  was  coming  into  fashion.  The 
power  of  the  Church  had  been  great  in  days  when 
the  State  was  rude  and  the  clergy  were  the  natural 
leaders  of  men.  Now  the  State  was  powerful  and 
enjoyed  men's  confidence ;  they  looked  to  the  king 
to  satisfy  their  material  aspirations,  and  the  Church 
had  not  been  very  successful  in  keeping  their  spirit- 
ual aspirations  alive.  It  was  not  that  men  were 
opposed  to  the  Church,  but  they  judged  its  privi-  \ 
leges  to  be  excessive,  its  disciplinary  courts  to  be 
vexatious,  its  officials  to  be  too  numerous,  and  its 
wealth  to  be  devoted  to  purposes  which  had  ceased 
to  be  of  the  first  importance.  There  was  a  general 
desire  to  see  a  re-adjustment  of  many  matters  in 
which  the  Church  was  concerned ;  and  before  this 
popular  sentiment  churchmen  found  it  difficult  to 
assert  their  old  pretensions,  and  preferred  to  rest 
contentedly  under  the  protection  of  the  Crown. 
A  trivial  incident  shows  the  general  condition  of 


212  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

affairs  with  sufficient  clearness.  One  of  the  claims 
which  on  the  whole  the  clergy  had  maintained  was 
the  right  of  trial  before  ecclesiastical  courts;  and 
the  greater  leniency  of  ecclesiastical  sentences  had 
been  a  useful  modification  of  the  severity  of  the 
criminal  law,  so  that  benefit  of  clergy  had  been  per- 
mitted to  receive  large  extension  of  interpretation. 
Further,  the  sanctity  of  holy  places  had  been  per- 
mitted to  give  rights  of  sanctuary  to  criminals  flee- 
ing from  justice  or  revenge.  Both  of  these  expedi- 
ents hail  been  useful  in  a  rude  state  of  society,  and 
had  done  much  to  uphold  a  higher  standard  of  hu- 
manity. But  it  was  clear  that  they  were  only  tem- 
porary expedients  which  were  needless  and  even 
harmful  as  society  grew  more  settled  and  justice 
was  regularly  administered.  Henry  VII.  had  felt 
the  need  of  diminishing  the  rights  of  sanctuary, 
which  gave  a  dangerous  immunity  to  the  numerous 
rebels  against  whom  he  had  to  contend,  and  he  ob- 
tained a  bull  for  that  purpose  from  Pope  Innocent 
VIII.  The  example  which  he  set  was  speedily  fol- 
lowed, and  an  Act  was  passed  by  the  Parliament  of 
1511,  doing  away  with  sanctuary  and  benefit  of 
clergy  in  the  case  of  those  who  were  accused  of 
murder. 

It  does  not  seem  that  the  Act  met  with  any  de- 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  213 

cided  opposition  at  the  time  that  it  was  passed; 
but  there  were  still  sticklers  for  clerical  immunities, 
who  regarded  it  as  a  dangerous  innovation,  and 
during  the  session  of  Parliament  in  1515  the  Abbot 
of  Winchcombe  *  preached  a  sermon  in  which  he 
denounced  it  as  an  impious  measure.  Henry  VIII. 
adopted  a  course  which  afterwards  stood  him  in 
good  stead  in  dealing  with  the  Church;  he  sub- 
mitted the  question  to  a  commission  of  divines  and 
temporal  peers.  In  the  course  of  the  discussion 
Standish,t  the  Warden  of  the  Friars  Minors,  put 


*  The  Abbot  of  Winchcombe,  Gloucestershire,  was  Richard 
Kedermyster.  He  was  educated  at  Oxford.  In  1487  was 
elected  lord  abbot  of  the  monasteryof  Winchcombe,  of  which 
he  was  a  member,  and  during  his  administration  the  institu- 
tion nourished  like  a  little  university,  it  was  said.  About- 
1500,  he  resided  for  a  year  in  Rome,  after  which  he  became  a 
person  of  influence  in  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  When  par- 
liament, in  1513,  enacted  that  all  robbers  and  murderers 
should  be  denied  the  benefit  of  the  clergy,  except  such  as 
were  within  the  holy  orders  of  a  bishop,  priest  or  deacon,  the 
abbot,  in  a  vigorous  sermon,  declared  that  the  act  was 
contrary  to  the  law  of  God  and  the  liberties  of  the  holy 
church.  Kedermyster  died  about  1531. 

f  Henry  Standish,  the  date  of  whose  birth  is  unknown, 
studied  at  both  Oxford  and  Cambridge  and  was  later  appointed 
warden  of  the  Franciscan  house,  Greyfriars,  London.  He 
obtained  the  favor  of  Henry  VIII.  and  frequently  preached 
before  the  court.  In  the  controversy  over  the  benefit  of 
clergy  he  opposed  Kedermyster  who  championed  the  side  of 
the  clergy,  and  for  his  opposition  he  narrowly  escaped  the 
vengeance  of  the  brethren.  It  was  only  the  king's  interven- 


214  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

the  point  clearly  and  sensibly  by  saying,  "  The 
Act  was  not  against  the  liberty  of  the  Church,  for 
it  was  passed  for  the  weal  of  the  whole  realm." 
The  clerical  party  were  not  prepared  to  face  so 
direct  an  issue,  and  answered  that  it  was  contrary 
to  the  decretals.  ' '  So, ' '  replied  Standish,  i '  is  the 
non-residence  of  bishops;  yet  that  is  common 
enough."  Baffled  in  their  appeal  to  law  the 
bishops  fell  back  upon  Scripture,  and  quoted  the 
text,  < '  Touch  not  mine  anointed. ' '  Again  Standish 
turned  against  them  the  new  critical  spirit,  which 
destroyed  the  old  arguments  founded  on  isolated 
texts.  David,  he  said,  used  these  words  of  all  God's 
people  as  opposed  to  the  heathen ;  as  England  was 
a  Christian  country  the  text  covered  the  laity  as 
well  as  the  clergy.  It  was  doubtless  galling  to  the 
clerical  party  to  be  so  remorselessly  defeated  by 
one  of  their  own  number,  and  their  indignation  was 
increased  when  the  temporal  lords  on  the  commis- 

tion  that  saved  him.  Except  in  this  one  point,  Standish  sided 
with  the  Church  in  opposition  to  Colet  and  Erasmus,  and  in 
the  persecution  of  heretics.  He  was  appointed  bishop  of  St. 
Asaph  in  1518.  At  the  beginning  of  the  proceedings  of  the 
divorce  of  the  king  from  Katharine,  Standish  was  council  for 
the  queen,  but  he  afterwards  took  a  part  in  the  ceremonies  of 
the  coronation  of  Anne  Boleyn.  On  June  1,  1535.  being  then  a 
very  old  man,  he  formally  renounced  allegiance  to  the  Cath- 
olic Church,  and  he  died  on  July  9,  of  the  same  year. 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  215 

sion  decided  against  the  Abbot  of  Winchcombe  and 
ordered  him  to  apologize. 

The  bishops  vented  their  anger  on  Standish,  and 
summoned  him  to  answer  for  his  conduct  before 
Convocation,  whereon  he  appealed  to  the  king. 
Again  Henry  appointed  a  commission,  this  time  ex- 
clusively of  laymen,  to  decide  between  Standish 
and  his  accusers.  They  reported  that  Convocation, 
by  its  proceeding  against  one  who  was  acting  as  a 
royal  commissioner,  had  incurred  the  penalties  of 
praemunire,  and  they  added  that  the  king  could,  if 
he  chose,  hold  a  parliament  without  the  lords  spirit- 
ual, who  had  no  place  therein  save  by  virtue  of 
their  temporal  possessions.  Probably  this  was  in- 
tended as  a  significant  hint  to  the  spirituality  that 
they  had  better  not  interfere  unduly  with  parlia- 
mentary proceedings.  Moreover,  at  the  same  time 
a  case  had  occurred  which  stirred  popular  feeling 
against  the  ecclesiastical  courts.  A  London  mer- 
chant had  been  arrested  by  the  chancellor  of  the 
Bishop  of  London  on  a  charge  of  heresy,  and  a  few 
days  after  his  arrest  was  found  hanging  dead  in 
his  cell.  Doubtless  the  unhappy  man  had  com- 
mitted suicide,  but  there  was  a  suspicion  that  his 
arrest  was  due  to  a  private  grudge  on  the  part  of 
the  chancellor,  who  was  accused  of  having  made 


216  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

away  with  him  privily.  Popular  feeling  waxed 
high,  and  the  lords  who  gave  their  decision  so 
roundly  against  Convocation  knew  that  they  were 
sure  of  popular  support. 

Henry  was  not  sorry  of  an  opportunity  of  teach- 
ing the  clergy  their  dependence  upon  himself,  and 
he  summoned  the  bishops  before  him  that  he  might 
read  them  a  lesson.  Wolsey's  action  on  this  occa- 
sion is  noticeable.  He  seems  to  have  been  the  only 
one  who  saw  the  gravity  of  the  situation,  and  he 
strove  to  effect  a  dignified  compromise.  Before  the 
king  could  speak  Wolsey  knelt  before  him  and  in- 
terceded for  the  clergy.  He  said  that  they  had 
designed  nothing  against  the  king's  prerogative,  but 
thought  it  their  duty  to  uphold  the  rights  of  the 
Church;  he  prayed  that  the  matter  might  be  re- 
ferred to  the  decision  of  the  Pope.  Henry  answered 
that  he  was  satisfied  with  the  arguments  of  Stand- 
ish.  Fox,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  turned  angrily  on 
Standish,  and  Archbishop  War  ham  plucked  up  his 
courage  so  far  as  to  say  feebly,  "  Many  holy  men 
have  resisted  the  law  of  England  on  this  point  and 
have  suffered  martyrdom. ' '  But  Henry  knew  that 
he  had  not  to  deal  with  a  second  Becket,  and  that  the 
days  of  Becket  had  gone  by  forever.  He  would 
have  nothing  to  say  to  papal  intervention  or  to 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY. 

clerical  privilege ;  the  time  had  come  for  the  asser- 
tion of  royal  authority,  and  Henry  could  use  his 
opportunity  as  skilfully  as  the  most  skilful  priest. 
"  We,"  said  he,  "  are  by  God's  grace  king  of  Eng- 
land, and  have  no  superior  but  God ;  we  will  main- 
tain the  rights  of  the  Crown  like  our  predecessors ; 
your  decrees  you  break  and  interpret  at  your  pleas- 
ure :  but  we  will  not  consent  to  your  interpretation 
any  more  than  our  predecessors  have  done. ' '  The 
immemorial  rights  of  the  English  Crown  were 
vaguer  and  more  formidable  than  the  rights  of  the 
Church,  and  the  bishops  retired  in  silence.  Henry 
did  not  forget  the  service  rendered  him  by  Standish, 
who  was  made  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph  in  1518. 

In  this  incident  we  have  a  forecast  of  the  subse- 
quent course  of  events — the  threat  of  praemunire, 
the  assertion  of  the  royal  supremacy,  the  submission 
of  the  clergy.  Nothing  was  wanting  save  a  suffi- 
cient motive  to  work  a  revolution  in  the  ancient  re- 
lations between  Church  and  State.  Wolsey  alone 
seems  to  have  seen  how  precarious  was  the  existing 
position  of  the  Church.  He  knew  that  the  Church 
was  wrong,  and  that  it  would  have  to  give  way, 
but  he  wished  to  clothe  its  submission  with  a  sem- 
blance of  dignity,  and  to  use  the  papal  power,  not 
as  a  means  of  guarding  the  rights  of  the  Church, 


218  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

but  as  a  means  of  casting  an  air  of  ecclesiastical 
propriety  over  their  abandonment.  Doubtless  he 
proposed  to  use  his  legatine  power  for  that  purpose 
if  the  need  arose ;  but  he  was  loyal  to  the  Church 
as  an  institution,  and  did  not  wish  it  to  fall  unre- 
servedly to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  king.  He  saw 
that  this  was  only  to  be  avoided  by  a  judicious 
pliancy  on  the  Church's  part,  which  could  gain  a 
breathing-space  for  carrying  out  gradual  reforms. 

The  fact  that  Wolsey  was  a  statesman  rather  than 
an  ecclesiastic  gave  him  a  clear  view  of  the  direction 
which  a  conservative  reformation  should  pursue. 
He  saw  that  the  Church  was  too  wealthy  and  too 
powerful  for  the  work  which  it  was  actually  doing. 
The  wealth  and  power  of  the  Church  were  a  herit- 
age from  a  former  age,  in  which  the  care  for  the 
higher  interests  of  society  fell  entirely  into  the 
hands  of  the  Church  because  the  State  was  rude  and 
barbarous,  and  had  no  machinery  save  for  the  dis- 
charge of  rudimentary  duties.  Bishops  were  the 
only  officials  who  could  curb  the  lawlessness  of  feu- 
dal lords;  the  clergy  were  the  only  refuge  from 
local  tyranny ;  monks  were  the  only  landlords  who 
cleared  the  forests,  drained  the  marshes,  and  taught 
the  pursuits  of  peace ;  monastery  schools  educated 
the  sons  of  peasants,  and  the  universities  gave  young 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  219 

men  of  ability  a  career.  All  the  humanitarian 
duties  of  society  were  discharged  by  the  Church, 
and  the  Church  had  grown  in  wealth  and  importance 
because  of  its  readiness  to  discharge  them.  But  as 
the  State  grew  stronger,  and  as  the  power  of  Par- 
liament increased,  it  was  natural  that  duties  which 
had  once  been  delegated  should  be  assumed  by  the 
community  at  large.  It  was  equally  natural  that 
institutions  which  had  once  been  useful  should  out- 
last their  usefulness  and  be  regarded  with  a  jealous 
eye.  By  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Edward  I.  (1307) 
England  had  been  provided  with  as  many  monastic 
institutions  as  it  needed,  and  the  character  of  mon- 
asticism  began  to  decline.  Benefactions  for  social 
purposes  from  that  time  forward  were  mainly  de- 
voted to  colleges,  hospitals,  and  schools.  The  fact 
that  so  many  great  churchmen  were  royal  ministers 
shows  how  the  energy  of  the  Church  was  placed  at 
the  disposal  of  the  State  and  was  by  it  absorbed. 
The  Church  possessed  revenues,  and  a  staff  of  officials  / 
which  were  too  large  for  the  time,  in  which  it  was 
not  the  only  worker  in  the  field  of  social  welfare. 
It  possessed  rights  and  privileges  which  were  neces- 
sary for  its  protection  in  days  of  anarchy  and  law- 
lessness, but  which  were  invidious  in  days  of  more  ! 
settled  government.  Moreover,  the  tenure  of  so 


220  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

much  land  by  ecclesiastical  corporations  like  monas- 
teries, was  viewed  with  jealousy  in  a  time  when 
commercial  competition  was  becoming  a  dominant 
motive  in  a  society  which  had  ceased  to  be  mainly 
warlike. 

From  this  point  of  view  Wolsey  was  prepared  for 
gradual  changes  in  the  position  of  the  Church ;  but 
he  did  not  wish  those  changes  to  be  revolutionary, 
nor  did  he  wish  them  to  be  made  by  the  power  of 
the  State.  He  knew  the  real  weakness  of  the  Church 
and  the  practical  omnipotence  of  the  king ;  but  he 
hoped  to  unite  the  interests  of  the  Crown  and  of  the 
Church  by  his  own  personal  influence  and  by  his 
position  as  the  trusted  minister  of  king  and  Pope  alike. 

He  did  not,  however,  deceive  himself  about  the 
practical  difficulties  in  the  way  of  a  conservative  re- 
form, which  should  remove  the  causes  of  popular 
discontent,  and  leave  the  Church  an  integral  part  of 
the  State  organization.  He  knew  that  the  ecclesias- 
tical system,  even  in  its  manifest  abuses,  was  close- 
ly interwoven  with  English  society,  and  he  knew 
the  strength  of  clerical  conservatism.  He  knew 
also  the  dangers  which  beset  the  Church  if  it  came 
across  the  royal  will  and  pleasure.  If  any  reform 
were  to  be  carried  out  it  must  be  by  raising  the  stan- 
dard of  clerical  intelligence.  Already  many  things 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  221 

which  had  accorded  with  the  simpler  minds  of  an 
earlier  age  had  become  objects  of  mockery  to  edu- 
cated laymen.  The  raillery  of  Erasmus  at  the  relics 
of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  and  the  Virgin's  milk 
preserved  at  "Walsingham  *  expressed  the  difference 
which  had  arisen  between  the  old  practices  of  relig- 
ion and  the  belief  of  thoughtful  men.  It  would  be 
well  to  divert  some  of  the  revenues  of  the  Church 
from  the  maintenance  of  idle  and  ignorant  monks 
to  the  education  of  a  body  of  learned  clergy. 

This  diversion  of  monastic  property  had  long  been 
projected  and  attempted.     "William  of  Wykeham  f 

*  Matthew  xxiii :  27  reads  as  follows  :  "  Woe  unto  you, 
scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !  for  ye  are  like  unto  whited 
sepulchres,  which  indeed  appear  beautiful  outward,  but  are 
within  full  of  dead  men's  bones  and  of  all  uncleanness."  The 
comment  of  Erasmus  was :  "  What  would  Jerome  say  could 
he  see  the  Virgin's  milk  exhibited  for  money,  with  as  much 
honor  paid  to  it  as  to  the  consecrated  body  of  Christ ;  the  mi- 
raculous oil ;  the  portions  of  the  true  Cross,  enough  if  they 
were  collected  to  freight  a  large  ship  ?  Here  we  have  the 
hood  of  St.  Francis,  there  Our  Lady's  petticoat,  or  St.  Anne's 
comb,  or  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury's  shoes  ;  not  presented  as 
innocent  aids  to  religion,  but  as  the  subtance  of  religion  itself 
— and  all  through  the  avarice  of  priests  and  the  hypocrisy  of 
monks  playing  on  the  credulity  of  the  people.  Even  bishops 
play  their  parts  in  these  fantastic  shows,  and  approve  and 
dwell  on  them  in  their  rescripts."  It  is  not  in  the  least  sur- 
prising that  Ignatius  Loyola,  the  founder  of  the  Jesuits, 
should  say  that  "  he  read  a  little  and  could  not  go  on ;  it 
checked  his  devotional  emotions." 

f  William  of  Wykeham  (1324-1404)  rose  from  obscure  be- 


222  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

endowed  his  New  College  at  Oxford  with  lands 
which  he  purchased  from  monasteries.  Henry  YI. 
endowed  Eton  and  King's  College  with  revenues 
which  came  from  the  suppression  of  alien  priories. 
In  1497  John  Alcock,  Bishop  of  Ely,  obtained  leave 
to  suppress  the  decrepit  nunnery  of  St.  Rhadegund 
in  Cambridge  and  use  its  site  for  the  foundation 
of  Jesus  College.  Wolsey  only  carried  farther  and 
made  more  definite  the  example  which  had  pre- 
viously been  set  when  in  1524  he  obtained  from 
Pope  Clement  YII.  permission  to  convert  into  a 
college  the  monastery  of  St.  Frideswyde  in  Oxford. 
Soon  after  he  obtained  a  bull  allowing  him  to  sup- 
press monasteries  with  fewer  than  seven  inmates, 
and  devote  their  revenues  to  educational  purposes. 
Nor  was  Wolsey  the  only  man  who  was  of  opin- 
ion that  the  days  of  monasticism  were  numbered. 

ginnings  to  such  influence  that  "  everything  was  done  by  him 
and  nothing  without  him."  In  1364  he  was  appointed  by 
Edward  III.  keeper  of  the  privy  seal  arid  secretary  to  the 
King.  In  1367  he  was  made  Bishop  of  Winchester  and  Chan- 
cellor of  England.  In  1380  he  begun  New  College,  Oxford, 
and  in  1387  AVin  Chester  school.  In  1394,  being  then  about 
seventy  years  of  age,  he  began  the  reconstruction  of  the 
cathedral  of  Winchester,  a  splendid  piece  of  work,  and  per- 
sonally supervised  until  1402.  Wycliffe  spoke  of  him  as  "a 
builder  of  castles,"  but  he  founded  his  colleges  "  first  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  promotion  of  divine  service,  and  second- 
arily for  scholarships."  He  has  been  called  the  father  of  the 
public  school  system  of  England.  See  also  above,  p.  19,  note, 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  223 

In  1515  Bishop  Fox  of  Winchester  contemplated  the 
foundation  of  a  college  at  Oxford  in  connection 
with  the  monastery  of  St.  Swithin  at  Winchester. 
He  was  dissuaded  from  making  his  college  depend- 
ent on  a  monastery  by  his  brother  bishop,  Oldham 
of  Exeter,  who  said,  "  Shall  we  build  houses  and 
provide  livelihoods  for  a  company  of  bussing  monks, 
whose  end  and  fall  we  ourselves  may  live  to  see? 
No,  no:  it  is  meet  to  provide  for  the  increase  of 
learning,  and  for  such  as  by  learning  shall  do  good 
to  Church  and  commonwealth."  Oldham' s  advice 
prevailed,  and  the  statutes  of  Fox's  college  of 
Brasenose  were  marked  by  the  influence  of  the  new 
learning  as  distinct  from  the  old  theology. 

Still  Wolsey's  bull  for  the  wholesale  dissolution 
of  small  monasteries  was  the  beginning  of  a  pro- 
cess which  did  not  cease  till  all  were  swept  away. 
It  introduced  a  principle  of  measuring  the  utility  of 
old  institutions  and  judging  their  right  to  exist  by 
their  power  of  rendering  service  to  the  community. 
Religious  houses  whose  shrunken  revenues  could  not 
support  more  than  seven  monks,  according  to  the 
rising  standard  of  monastic  comfort,  were  scarcely 
likely  to  maintain  serious  discipline  or  pursue  any 
lofty  end.  But  it  was  the  very  reasonableness  of 
this  method  of  judgment  which  rendered  it  exceed- 


224  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ingly  dangerous.  Tried  by  this  standard,  who 
could  hope  to  escape  ?  Fuller  scarcely  exagger- 
ates when  he  says  that  this  measure  of  Wolsey 's 
"made  all  the  forest  of  religious  foundations  in 
England  to  shake,  justly  fearing  that  the  king 
would  fell  the  oaks  when  the  cardinal  had  begun 
to  cut  the  underwood. ' '  It  would  perhaps  have  re- 
quired too  much  wisdom  for  the  monks  to  see  that 
submission  to  the  cardinal's  pruning-knife  was  the 
only  means  of  averting  the  clang  of  the  royal  axe. 

The  method  which  Wolsey  pursued  was  after- 
wards borrowed  by  Henry  VIII.  Commissioners 
were  sent  out  to  inquire  into  the  condition  of  small 
monasteries,  and  after  an  unfavorable  report  their 
dissolution  was  required,  and  their  members  were 
removed  to  a  larger  house.  The  work  was  one 
which  needed  care  and  dexterity  as  well  as  a  good 
knowledge  of  business.  Wolsey  was  lucky  in  his 
agents,  chief  amongst  whom  was  Thomas  Crom- 
well, an  attorney  whose  cleverness  "Wolsey  quickly 
perceived.  In  fact  most  of  the  men  who  so  cleverly 
managed  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries  for 
Henry  had  learned  the  knack  under  "Wolsey,  who 
was  fated  to  train  up  instruments  for  purposes 
which  he  would  have  abhorred. 

The  immediate  objects  to  which  Wolsey  devoted 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  225 

the  money  which  he  obtained  by  the  dissolution  of 
these  useless  monasteries  were  a  college  in  his  old 
university  of  Oxford  and  another  in  his  native  town 
of  Ipswich.  The  two  were  doubtless  intended  to 
be  in  connection  with  one  another,  after  the  model 
of  William  of  Wykeham's  foundations  at  Winchester 
and  Oxford,  and  those  of  Henry  VI.  at  Eton  and 
Cambridge.  This  scheme  was  never  carried  out  in 
its  integrity,  for  on  Wolsey's  fall  his  works  were 
not  completed,  and  were  involved  in  his  forfeiture. 
Few  things  gave  him  more  grief  than  the  threatened 
check  of  this  memorial  of  his  greatness,  and  owing 
to  his  earnest  entreaties  his  college  at  Oxford  was 
spared  and  was  refounded.  Its  name,  however,  was 
changed  from  Cardinal  College  to  Christ  Church,* 

*  Henry  VIII.,  in  1530,  announced  his  intention  of  dissolv- 
ing Cardinal  College  and  seizing  its  property  to  his  own  use. 
4 '  Thus,"  says  Dr.  Brewer,  "  one  of  the  noblest  foundations 
for  education,  so  much  needed  for  the  eastern  counties,  was 
brought  to  desolation  by  the  avarice  of  the  King  and  the 
greed  of  his  favorites."  Cardinal  College  was  totally  sup- 
pressed, and  when,  nearly  two  years  later,  another  institution 
was  set  up  in  its  stead,  under  the  title  of  "  King  Henry  the 
Eighth's  College,"  provision  was  made  for  no  more  than  a 
dean  and  twelve  canons,  not  necessarily  connected  with  the 
university,  and  a  few  clerks  and  choristers.  This  purely  ec- 
clesiastical body  was  in  its  turn  suppressed  in  1545,  to  make 
way  for  the  grander  foundation  which  still  flourishes  under 
the  name  of  Christ  Church.  Thus,  after  many  vicissitudes, 
the  venerable  minister  of  St.  Frideswyde,  one  of  the  few  re 
maining  memorials  of  pre-academic  Oxford,  now  serves  as 
15 


226  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

and  it  was  not  entirely  identified  with  Wolsey's 
glory.  The  college  at  Ipswich  fell  into  abeyance. 

Wolsey's  design  for  Cardinal  College  was  on  a 
magnificent  scale.  He  devised  a  large  court  sur- 
rounded by  a  cloister,  with  a  spacious  dining-hall 
on  one  side.  The  hall  was  the  first  building  which 
he  took  in  hand,  and  this  fact  is  significant  of  his 
idea  of  academic  life.  He  conceived  a  college  as  an 
organic  society  of  men  living  in  common,  and  by 
their  intercourse  generating  and  expressing  a  power- 
ful body  of  opinion.  Contemporaries  mocked  and 
said,  "  A  fine  piece  of  business;  this  cardinal  pro- 
jected a  college  and  has  built  a  tavern. ' '  They  did 
not  understand  that  Wolsey  was  not  merely  adding 
to  the  number  of  Oxford  colleges,  but  was  creating 
a  society  which  should  dominate  the  University,  and 
be  the  center  of  a  new  intellectual  movement.  For 
this  purpose  Wolsey  devised  a  foundation  which 
should  be  at  once  ecclesiastical  and  civil,  and  should 
set  forward  his  own  conception  of  the  relations  be- 
tween the  Church  and  the  intellectual  and  social  life 
of  the  nation.  His  foundation  consisted  of  a  dean, 
sixty  canons,  six  professors,  forty  petty  canons, 

the  chapel  of  the  largest  college  in  the  university  and  as  the 
Cathedral  church  of  the  diocese. — See  History  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Oxford,  by  H.  C.  MAXWELL  LYTE. 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  227 

twelve  chaplains,  twelve  clerks,  and  sixteen  choris- 
ters ;  and  he  proposed  to  fill  it  with  men  of  his  own 
choice,  who  would  find  there  a  fitting  sphere  for 
their  energies. 

Wolsey  was  a  man  well  adapted  to  hold  the  bal- 
ance between  the  old  and  the  new  learning.  He 
had  been  trained  in  the  theology  of  the  schools,  and 
was  a  student  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas ;  but  he  had 
learned  by  the  training  of  life  to  understand  the 
new  ideas;  he  grasped  their  importance,  and  he 
foresaw  their  triumph.  He  was  a  friend  of  the 
band  of  English  scholars  who  brought  to  Oxford  the 
study  of  Greek,  and  he  sympathized  with  the  in- 
tellectual aspirations  of  Grocyn,*  Colet,  More,  and 
Erasmus.  Perhaps  he  rather  sympathized  than  un- 
derstood ;  but  his  influence  was  cast  on  their  side 
when  the  opposition  to  the  new  learning  broke  out 
in  the  University  and  the  Trojans  waged  a  des- 
perate and  at  first  a  successful  war  against  the 


*  William  Grocyn  (1442?-1519)  was  a  warm  friend  of  Erasmus. 
About  1489  he  went  to  Rome  and  studied  the  Greek  language. 
Returning  to  England  lie  was  appointed  to  the  professorship 
of  Greek  in  Oxford  University,  and  was  the  first  professor  of 
that  language  in  England.  Sir  Thomas  More  was  one  of  his 
early  pupils.  Erasmus  describes  him  as  an  incomparable  man, 
and  an  accurate  scholar,  skilled  in  various  branches  of  learn- 
ing. He  published  nothing  and  his  fame  rests  entirely  oil  his 
lectures  delivered  in  Oxford  and  London. 


228  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Greeks.  The  more  ignorant  among  the  clerical 
teachers  objected  to  any  widening  of  the  old  studies, 
and  resented  the  substitution  of  biblical  or  patristic 
theology  for  the  study  of  the  schoolmen.  They 
dreaded  the  effects  of  the  critical  method,  and  were 
not  reassured  when  Grocyn,  in  a  sermon  at  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral,  declared  that  the  writings  at- 
tributed to  Dionysius  the  Areopagite  *  were  spurious. 
A  wave  of  obscurantism  swept  over  Oxford,  and, 
as  Tyndale  puts  it,  "the  barking  curs,  Dun's  dis- 
ciples, the  children  of  darkness,  raged  in  every 
pulpit  against  Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew." 

Wolsey  used  the  king's  authority  to  rebuke  the 
assailants  of  learning ;  but  the  new  teachers  with- 
drew from  Oxford,  and  Wolsey  saw  that  if  the 

*  Dionysius  the  Areopagite  was  a  convert  of  the  apostle 
Paul  (see  Acts  xvii :  34)  and  was  reputed  to  be  the  first 
bishop  of  Athens.  The  writings  attributed  to  him  emanated 
from  an  Alexandrian  in  the  sixth  century.  The  writings  are 
the  expression  of  the  Neo-Platonism  and  Christian  nrysticism 
of  the  time.  They  gradually  made  their  way  in  Europe,  and 
in  the  middle  ages  exercised  an  incalculable  influence  in  the 
Church.  It  the  ninth  century,  John  Scotus  Erigena  (Duns 
Scotus)  translated  these  works  into  Latin  and  in  this  tongue 
they  were  more  accessible.  "  The  Florentine  Platonists  of 
the  fifteenth  century  studied  them  with  ardor,  as  did  the 
English  humanists,  Colet  and  Grocyn.  Their  influence  is 
plainly  traceable  in  Dante's  Divine  Comedy.  The  authenti- 
city of  these  writings  is  still  maintained  here  and  there,  in 
spite  of  the  overwhelming  evidence  to  the  contrary." 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  229 

4 

new  learning  was  to  make  way  it  must  have  a  se- 
cure footing.  Accordingly  he  set  himself  to  get 
the  universities  into  his  power,  and  in  1517  pro- 
posed to  found  university  lectureships  in  Oxford. 
Hitherto  the  teaching  given  in  the  universities  had 
been  voluntary;  teachers  arose  and  maintained 
themselves  by  a  process  of  natural  selection.  Ex- 
cellent as  such  a  system  may  seem,  it  did  not  lead 
to  progress,  and  already  the  Lady  Margaret,  Coun- 
tess of  Eichmond,  Henry  VII. 's  mother,  had 
adopted  the  advice  of  Bishop  Fisher,  and  founded 
divinity  professorships  in  the  two  universities. 
Wolsey  wished  to  extend  this  system  and  organize 
an  entire  staff  of  teachers  for  university  purposes. 
"We  do  not  know  how  far  he  showed  his  intention, 
but  such  was  his  influence  that  Oxford  submitted  its 
statutes  to  him  for  revision.  .  "Wolsey 's  hands  were 
too  full  of  other  work  for  him'  to  undertake  at  once 
so  delicate  a  matter ;  but  he  meant  undoubtedly  to 
reorganize  the  system  of  university  education,  and 
for  this  purpose  prevailed  on  Cambridge  also  to 
entrust  its  statutes  to  his  hands.  Again  he  had 
prepared  the  way  for  a  great  undertaking,  and  had 
dexterously  used  his  position  to  remove  all  obsta- 
cles, and  prepare  a  field  for  the  work  of  reconstruc- 
tion. Again  he  was  prevented  from  carrying  out 


230  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

his  designs,  and  his  educational  reform  was  never 
actually  made.  "We  can  only  trace  his  intentions 
in  the  fact  that  he  brought  to  Oxford  a  learned 
Spaniard,  Juan  Luis  Vives,*  to  lecture  on  rhetoric, 
and  we  may  infer  that  he  intended  to  provide  both 
universities  with  a  staff  of  teachers  chosen  from  the 
first  scholars  of  Europe. 

Another  matter  gives  another  indication  of  Wol- 
sey's  desire  to  remove  the  grievances  felt  against 
the  Church.  If  the  monasteries  were  survivals  of  a 
time  when  the  Church  discharged  the  humanitarian 
duties  of  society,  the  ecclesiastical  courts  were  in  a 
like  manner  survivals  of  a  time  when  the  civil 
courts  were  not  yet  able  to  deal  with  many  points 
which  concerned  the  relations  between  man  and 
man,  or  which  regulated  individual  conduct.  Thus 
marriage  was  a  religious  ceremony,  and  all  ques- 
tions which  arose  from  the  marriage  contract  were 
decided  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts.  Similarly 

*  Juan  Luis  Vives  (1492-1540)  studied  at  the  university  of 
Lou  vain  and  became  professor  of  Latin  in  that  institution. 
He  went  to  England  as  tutor  of  princess  Mary.  When  Henry 
was  suing  for  divorce  from  Katharine,  the  suit  was  opposed 
by  Vives  who,  for  this  offence  was  imprisoned.  On  his  release 
he  settled  at  Bruges,  in  Belgium,  where  he  became  the  in- 
timate friend  of  Erasmus  and  Budseus.  "The  three  have 
been  called  a  triumvirate  in  the  republic  of  letters,  equally 
eminent  for  talents  and  learning." 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY.  231 

wills  were  recognized  by  the  Church,  as  resting  on 
the  moral  basis  of  mutual  confidence,  long  before 
the  State  was  prepared  to  acknowledge  their  valid- 
ity. Besides  these  cases  which  arose  from  contract, 
the  Church  exercised  a  disciplinary  supervision  over 
its  members  for  the  good  of  their  souls,  and  to  avoid 
scandals  in  a  Christian  community.  On  all  these 
points  the  principles  of  the  Church  had  leavened 
the  conceptions  of  the  State,  and  the  civil  jurisdic- 
tion had  in  many  matters  overtaken  the  ecclesias- 
tical. But  the  clerical  courts  stood  stubbornly  upon 
their  claim  to  greater  antiquity,  and  the  activity  of 
ecclesiastical  lawyers  found  plenty  of  work  to  do. 
Disciplinary  jurisdiction  was  unduly  extended  by  a 
class  of  trained  officials,  and  was  resented  by  the 
growing  independence  of  the  rising  middle  class. 
No  doubt  the  ecclesiastical  courts  needed  reform, 
but  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  reforming  legal 
procedure  are  always  great.  Wolsey  faced  the 
problem  in  a  way  which  is  most  characteristic  of 
his  statesmanship.  He  strove  to  bring  the  question 
to  maturity  for  solution  by  getting  the  control  of 
the  ecclesiastical  courts  into  his  own  hands.  For 
this  purpose  he  used  his  exceptional  position  as 
Papal  Legate,  and  instituted  a  legatine  court  which 
should  supersede  the  ordinary  jurisdiction,  Natur- 


232  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ally  enough  this  brought  him  into  collision  with 
Archbishop  Warham,  and  his  fall  prevented  him 
from  developing  his  policy.  His  attempt  only  left 
the  ecclesiastical  courts  in  worse  confusion,  and 
added  to  the  strength  of  the  opposition,  which  soon 
robbed  them  of  most  of  their  powers.  It  added 
also  to  Wolsey's  unpopularity,  and  gave  a  shadow 
of  justice  to  the  unworthy  means  which  were  used 
for  his  destruction. 

In  fact,  wherever  we  look,  we  see  that  in  domes- 
tic affairs  "Wolsey  had  a  clear  conception  of  the  ob- 
jects to  be  immediately  pursued  by  a  conservative 
reformer.  But  a  conservative  reformer  raises  as 
much  hostility  as  does  a  revolutionist,  for  the  mass 
of  men  are  not  sufficiently  foreseeing  or  sufficiently 
disinterested  willingly  to  abandon  profitable  abuses. 
They  feel  less  animosity  against  the  open  enemy 
who  aims  avowedly  at  their  destruction,  than 
against  the  seeming  friends,  who  would  deprive 
them  of  what  they  consider  to  be  their  rights.  The 
clergy  submitted  more  readily  to  the  abolition  of 
their  privileges  by  the  king  than  they  would  have 
submitted  to  a  reform  at  the  hands  of  Wolsey. 
They  could  understand  the  one;  they  could  not 
understand  the  other.  This  was  natural,  for  Wolsey 
had  no  lofty  principles  to  set  before  them ;  he  had 


WOLSEY'S  DOMESTIC  POLICY. 

only  the  wisdom  of  a  keensighted  statesman,  who 
read  the  signs  of  the  times.  Indeed  he  did  not 
waste  his  time  in  trying  to  persuade  others  to  see 
with  his  eyes.  He  could  not  have  ventured  to 
speak  out  and  say  that  the  Church  must  choose 
between  the  tender  mercies  of  the  royal  power  and 
submission  to  the  discretion  of  one  who,  standing 
between  the  king  and  the  Pope,  was  prepared  to 
throw  a  semblance  of  ecclesiastical  recognition  over 
reforms  which  were  inevitable.  It  is  clear  that 
Wolsey  was  working  for  the  one  possible  com- 
promise, and  he  hoped  to  effect  it  by  his  own 
dexterity.  Secure  of  the  royal  favor,  secure  through 
his  political  importance  of  the  papal  acquiescence 
in  the  use  which  he  made  of  his  legatine  power, 
standing  forward  as  the  chief  ecclesiastic  in  Eng- 
land, he  aimed  at  accomplishing  such  reforms  as 
would  have  brought  into  harmony  the  relations  be- 
tween Church  and  State.  He  did  not  hope  to  do 
this  by  persuasion,  but  by  power,  and  had  taken 
steps  to  lay  his  hand  cautiously  on  different  parts 
of  the  ecclesiastical  organization.  With  this  idea 
before  him  we  may  safely  acquit  Wolsey  of  any 
undue  ambition  for  the  papal  office;  he  doubted 
whether  his  influence  would  be  increased  or  not  by 
its  possession. 


234  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

In  everything  that  Wolsey  did  he  played  for  the 
highest  stakes,  and  risked  all  upon  the  hope  of  ulti- 
mate success.  He  trusted  to  justify  himself  in  the 
long-run,  and  was  heedless  of  the  opposition  which 
he  called  forth.  Resting  solely  upon  the  royal 
favor,  he  did  not  try  to  conciliate,  nor  did  he  pause 
to  explain.  Men  could  not  understand  his  ends, 
but  they  profoundly  disliked  his  means.  The  sup- 
pression of  small  monasteries,  which  might  be  use- 
less but  served  to  provide  for  younger  sons  or 
dependants  of  country  families,  was  very  unpopular, 
as  coming  from  a  cardinal  who  enjoyed  the  revenues 
of  many  ecclesiastical  offices  whose  duties  he  did 
not  discharge.  The  setting  up  of  a  legatine  court 
was  hateful  to  the  national  sentiment  of  English- 
men, who  saw  in  it  only  another  engine  of  ecclesi- 
astical oppression.  The  pomp  and  magnificence 
wherewith  Wolsey  asserted  a  greatness  which  he 
mainly  valued  as  a  means  of  doing  his  country  ser- 
vice, was  resented  as  the  vulgar  arrogance  of  an 
upstart.  "Wolsey's  ideas  were  too  great  to  pay  any 
heed  to  the  prejudices  of  Englishmen  which,  after 
all,  have  determined  the  success  of  all  English  min- 
isters, and  which  no  English  statesman  has  ever  been 
powerful  enough  to  disregard. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 


1527-1529. 

IF  Wolsey  hoped  that  the  peace  with  France, 
which  he  had  so  successfully  concluded  in  the  begin- 
ning of  1527,  would  enable  him  to  reassert  Eng- 
land's influence  on  the  Continent,  and  would  give 
him  an  opportunity  for  the  work  of  domestic  re- 
form, he  was  sorely  disappointed.  A  new  matter 
arose,  not  entirely  unexpected,  but  which  widened 
into  unexpected  issues,  and  consumed  Wolsey's 
energies  till  it  led  to  his  fall.  The  project  of  the 
king's  divorce  was  suddenly  mooted;  and  this  per- 
sonal matter,  before  it  was  ripe  for  settlement, 
gradually  drew  into  its  sphere  all  the  questions  con- 
cerning England's  foreign  and  domestic  policy 
which  Wolsey's  statesmanship  had  been  trying  to 
solve  by  wise  and  well-considered  means.  Wolsey 
had  been  gathering  into  his  hands  the  threads  of  a 
complicated  policy,  each  one  of  which  required  dex- 
terous handling,  in  accordance  with  a  great  design. 

He  found  himself  suddenly  called  upon  to  act  pre- 
235 


236  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

cipitately  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  small  matter, 
which  brought  all  the  difficulties  of  his  position 
prominently  forward,  and  gave  him  no  time  for  that 
skilful  diplomacy  in  which  he  excelled.  Moreover, 
when  the  project  was  started  neither  Henry  nor 
Wolsey  could  have  foreseen  the  complications  which 
would  arise ;  still  less  could  Wolsey  have  known  the 
obstinacy  which  the  faintest  opposition  to  the  royal 
will  would  develop  in  the  king,  or  the  extent  to 
which  he  could  persuade  himself  that  the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  royal  pleasure  was  the  sole  purpose  of 
the  existence  of  the  power  of  the  State.  At  first 
Henry  had  sympathized  with  Wolsey 's  far-reaching 
schemes.  Latterly  he  had  at  all  events  been  willing 
to  allow  Wolsey  to  have  his  own  way  on  the  whole. 
The  time  came  when  he  showed  himself  a  hard  task- 
master, and  demanded  that  Wolsey  should  at  all 
costs  satisfy  his  personal  desires  in  a  matter  which 
he  persuaded  himself  was  all-important  to  the  nation 
at  large. 

Yiewed  according  to  the  general  notions  of  the 
time,  there  was  nothing  very  surprising  in  the  fact 
that  Henry  VIII.  should  wish  for  a  divorce. 
Royal  marriages  were  made  and  unmade  from  mo- 
tives of  expediency ;  it  was  only  a  question  of  ob- 
taining a  decent  plea.  The  sons  of  Katharine  had 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE. 

died  in  infancy,  and  Mary  was  the  only  heir  of  the 
English  throne;  it  was  a  matter  of  importance  to 
the  future  of  England  that  the  succession  to  the 
throne  should  be  clearly  established.  If  Henry  had 
remained  attached  to  his  wife  this  consideration 
would  not  have  been  put  forward ;  but  Henry  was 
never  famed  for  constancy.  He  was  in  the  prime 
of  life,  while  Katharine  was  over  forty.*  He  had 
developed  in  character,  not  for  the  better,  while  she 
remained  true  to  the  narrow  traditions  of  her  early 
training.  She  was  an  excellent  housewife,  con- 
scientious, decorous,  and  capable;  but  she  was 
devoted  to  the  political  interests  of  Spain,  and 
admired  her  nephew  Charles.  While  the  imperial 
alliance  was  warmly  pursued  by  Henry  she  was 
happy;  when  Henry's  zeal  for  Charles  began  to 
fade  she  felt  offended,  and  was  not  judicious  in  the 
display  of  her  political  bias.  Henry  was  more  and 
more  annoyed  by  his  wife's  discontent,  and  the 
breach  between  them  rapidly  widened.  "When 
Henry  broke  with  Charles  and  allied  himself  with 
France  he  seems  to  have  felt  that  his  domestic  peace 
was  at  an  end,  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  shrink 
from  the  effort  to  re-establish  it  upon  another  basis. 
Perhaps  none  of  these  considerations  would  have 
*  Henry  was  about  six  years  younger  than  Katharine. 


238  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

moved  Henry  to  take  prompt  action  if  his  desires 
had  not  been  kindled  by  a  new  object  of  his  affec- 
tion. He  had  not  been  a  faithful  husband,  and 
Katharine  seems  to- have  been  indulgent  to  his  in- 
fidelities. In  the  course  of  1526  he  was  captivated 
by  the  charms  of  Anne  Boleyn,  as  he  had  formerly 
been  captivated  by  her  sister  Mary.  But  Anne 
had  learned  that  the  king  was  fickle,  and  she 
resolved  that  she  would  not  be  so  easily  won  as  to 
be  lightly  abandoned.  She  skilfully  managed  to 
make  herself  agreeable  to  the  king  till  his  passion 
for  her  became  so  violent  that  he  was  prepared  to 
accept  her  terms  and  make  her  his  lawful  wife. 

Wolsey  was  not  in  favor  of  this  plan ;  but  he  was 
not  opposed  to  getting  rid  of  the  political  influence 
of  Katharine,  and  he  believed  that  the  king's  fancy 
for  Anne  Boleyn  would  rapidly  pass  away.  What- 
ever his  own  personal  opinion  might  be,  he  did  not 
venture  to  gainsay  the  king  in  a  matter  on  which  he 
was  resolved,  and  he  lent  himself  to  be  an  instru- 
ment in  a  matter  which  involved  him  in  measures 
which  became  more  and  more  discreditable.  The 
first  idea  of  the  king  was  to  declare  his  marriage 
with  Katharine  unlawful,  on  the  ground  that 
she  had  previously  been  his  brother's  wife;  but 
he  was  cognizant  of  that  when  he  married  her 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  239 

and  had  applied  for  a  papal  dispensation  to  remedy 
that  source  of  invalidity.  Doubtless  some  plea 
might  be  discovered  to  enable  the  Pope  to  set 
aside  the  dispensation  granted  by  his  predecessor. 
But  whatever  technical  grounds  might  be  used  to 
justify  the  Pope's  decision  in  the  king's  favor,  the 
Pope  could  not  be  expected  to  act  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  offend  the  Powers  of  Europe  and  shock  the 
moral  sense  of  Englishmen.  Wolsey  did  not  hide 
from  himself  that  there  were  three  hindrances  in  the 
way  of  legalizing  the  king's  divorce.  The  opinion 
of  England  was  not  in  its  favor ;  Charles  Y.  was 
likely  to  resent  the  affront  which  it  would  put  upon 
his  aunt,  and  the  Pope  could  not  afford  to  alienate 
one  who  was  becoming  all-powerful  in  Italy  that  he 
might  win  the  distant  friendship  of  the  English 
king ;  Francis  I.  had  just  made  a  treaty  with  Henry 
YIII. ,  by  which  the  hand  of  Mary  had  been  prom- 
ised to  his  son,  and  he  was  not  likely  to  wish  to 
see  Mary  declared  to  be  illegitimate.  These  were 
serious  elements  of  opposition,  which  it  would  re^ 
quire  considerable  skill  to  overcome. 

The  first  measure  which  suggested  itself  to  Henry 
and  Wolsey  was  to  put  the  king's  plea  into  shape, 
and  endorse  it  with  the  authority  of  the  English 
Church.  For  this  purpose  a  suit  was  secretly  insti- 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

tuted  against  the  king  in  Wolsey 's  legatine  court. 
Henry  was  solemnly  informed  that  a  complaint  had 
been  made  to  Wolsey,  as  censor  of  public  morals, 
that  he  had  cohabited  for  eighteen  years  with  his 
brother's  wife.  Henry  consented  that  Archbishop 
Warham  should  be  joined  with  Wolsey  as  assessor, 
and  named  a  proctor  who  should  plead  his  cause. 
Three  sessions  of  this  court  were  held  with  the  pro- 
foundest  secrecy  in  May ;  but  in  spite  of  all  the  at- 
tempts at  secrecy  the  imperial  ambassador  discovered 
what  was  going  on.  The  object  of  this  procedure 
seems  to  have  been  to  produce  a  sentence  from  the 
legate's  court  in  England  which  should  be  con- 
firmed by  the  Pope  without  right  of  appeal.  If  the 
Pope  had  been  a  free  agent  he  might  conceivably 
have  adopted  this  course ;  but  the  news  soon  reached 
England  that  Kome  had  been  sacked  by  Bourbon, 
and  that  the  Pope  was  trembling  before  Charles  Y. 
In  this  turn  of  affairs  it  was  useless  to  proceed 
farther  on  the  supposition  that  he  would  unhesitat- 
ingly comply  with  the  wishes  of  Henry  and  Wolsey. 
A  court  sitting  in  secret  would  have  no  influence  on 
English  opinion,  and  Wolsey  proposed  that  its  sit- 
tings should  be  suspended,  and  the  opinions  of  the 
English  bishops  be  taken  as  a  means  of  educating 
public  opinion. 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE. 

But  Katharine  had  been  informed  of  the  king's 
intentions  concerning  her,  and  showed  a  purpose  of 
defending  her  rights.  It  would  be  very  awkward 
if  she  were  the  first  to  make  the  matter  public,  and 
were  to  appeal  to  the  Pope  or  her  kinsman  Charles. 
The  question  would  then  become  a  political  ques- 
tion, and  Henry  was  not  prepared  with  allies.  So 
on  22d  June  the  king  broached  his  difficulties  to 
Katharine.  He  told  her  of  his  scruples,  and  of  his 
intentions  of  submitting  them  to  the  decision  of  can- 
onists and  theologians ;  meanwhile  they  had  better 
live  apart.  Katharine  burst  into  tears,  and  the  king 
vaguely  tried  to  assure  her  that  all  was  being  done 
for  the  best,  and  begged  her  to  keep  the  matter 
secret.  His  only  object  was  to  prevent  her  from 
taking  any  open  steps  till  he  had  assured  himself  of 
the  countenance  of  the  French  king  to  his  plans. 
For  this  purpose  Wolsey  was  sent  on  an  embassy, 
ostensibly  to  settle  some  questions  raised  by  the 
French  treaty,  really  to  concert  with  Francis  I.  a 
scheme  for  bringing  to  bear  upon  the  Pope  a  pres- 
sure which  should  be  strong  enough  to  counteract 
the  influence  of  Charles  Y. 

So,  on  3d  July,  Wolsey  left  London  on  his  last 
diplomatic  mission.  Men  who  saw  Wolsey  set  out 

with  more  than  his  accustomed  state,  escorted  by 
16 


242  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

nine  hundred  horsemen,  thought,  doubtless,  that 
the  cardinal1  s  greatness  was  as  high  as  ever;  but 
those  who  watched  more  closely  saw  him  in  the 
splendid  ceremonial  of  the  Church  of  Canterbury 
"  weep  very  tenderly ,"  for  his  mind  was  ill  at  ease. 
He  must  have  felt  that  he  was  going  to  use  his  tal- 
ents for  a  bad  end,  and  that  all  patriotism  and  no- 
bility had  vanished  from  his  aim.  On  his  way  to 
Dover  he  had  a  conference  with  Archbishop  War- 
ham,  whom  he  instructed  about  the  conduct  to  be 
observed  towards  the  queen.  Then  at  Kochester 
he  sounded  Bishop  Fisher,*  the  most  holy  and  up- 
right of  the  English  bishops,  who  had  already  been 
asked  by  Katherine  to  give  her  counsel,  though  she 
had  not  ventured  to  tell  him  what  was  the  subject 

*  John  Fisher  (1459?-1535)  was  educated  at  Cambridge, 
where  he  subsequently  held  several  important  offices.  In 
1503  he  was  appointed,  by  the  Countess  of  Richmond,  pro- 
fessor of  divinity  in  the  two  universities  (see  above,  p.  145). 
From  this  time  he  rose  rapidly  to  distinction.  Though  he 
was  courteous  and  deferential  to  Wolsey,  yet,  "  being  a  man 
of  strict  life,"  he  "  hated  Wolsey  for  his  vices."  He  was  in 
sympathy  with  the  spirit  of  the  new  learning  and  with  the 
then  modern  biblical  criticism,  and  he  lent  his  influence  to 
promote  the  scholarly  work  of  Erasmus.  His  native  con- 
servatism, which  increased  as  he  grew  older,  made  him  hostile 
to  the  teachings  of  Luther,  against  whom  he  preached  and 
wrote.  He  incurred  the  hatred  of  Henry  VIII.  in  opposing 
the  doctrine  of  supremacy,  refusing  to  recognize  the  validity 
of  the  decree  of  divorce  of  Katharine,  and  in  standing  out 
against  the  Act  of  Supremacy  passed  in  1534.  He  was  then 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  243 

on  which  she  wished  for  his  advice.  So  Wolsey 
told  his  own  story;  that  the  king's  conscience  was 
disquiet,  and  that  he.  wished  to  have  his  scruples  set 
at  rest  by  the  opinions  of  learned  men.  He  repre- 
sented that  Katharine  by  her  hastiness  was  throw- 
ing difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  king's  considerate 
procedure,  and  threatened  to  publish  the  matter, 
and  so  create  an  open  scandal.  Fisher  believed 
Wolsey's  tale,  and  was  beguiled  into  a  belief  of  the 
king's  good  intentions,  which  the  queen  could  not 
understand.  About  the  validity  of  Henry's  mar- 
riage Wolsey  could  not  get  from  Fisher  an  opinion 
contrary  to  the  authority  of  a  papal  dispensation ; 
but  he  contrived  to  alienate  Fisher  from  sympathy 
with  Katharine,  and  so  left  the  queen  without  a 
friend  while  he  proceeded  to  machinate  against  her 
in  France. 

We  have  from  one  of  "Wolsey's  attendants,  George 
Cavendish,  his  gentleman -usher,  a  full  account  of 
Wolsey's  journey  in  France,  On  one  point  he  gives 
us  valuable  insight  into  Wolsey's  character  where 

subjected  to  relentless  persecution  which  ended  in  his  death, 
which  was  plainly  a  case  of  judicial  murder.  He  was  be- 
headed June  22d,  1535,  just  two  weeks  before  the  execution 
of  More,  and  his  head  was  exposed  to  view  on  London  Bridge. 
More  said  of  him  that  "  in  this  realm  no  one  man  in  wisdom, 
learning,  and  long  approved  vertue  together,  mete  to  be 
matched  and  compared  with  him." 


244  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Wolsey  has  been  much  misrepresented.  He  tells  us 
how  at  Calais  he  summoned  his  attendants  and  ad- 
dressed them  about  their  behavior.  He  explained 
that  the  services  which  he  required  from  them  were 
not  personal  but  official,  and  his  words  were  those 
of  a  statesman  who  understood,  but  did  not  over- 
estimate, the  value  of  external  things.  ' '  Ye  shall 
understand,"  he  said,  u  that  the  king's  majesty, 
upon  certain  weighty  considerations,  hath  for  the 
more  advancement  of  his  royal  dignity  assigned  me 
in  this  journey  to  be  his  lieutenant-general,  and 
what  reverence  belongeth  to  the  same  I  will  tell 
you.  That  for  my  part  I  must,  by  virtue  of  my 
commission  of  lieutenantship,  assume  and  take  upon 
me,  in  all  honors  and  degrees,  to  have  all  such  ser- 
vice and  reverence  as  to  his  highness 's  presence  is 
meet  and  due,  and  nothing  thereof  to  be  neglected 
or  omitted  by  me  that  to  his  royal  estate  is  appur- 
tenant. And  for  my  part,  ye  shall  see  me  that  I 
will  not  omit  one  jot  thereof."  Then  he  added 
some  wise  advice  about  the  courtesies  to  be  observed 
in  their  intercourse  with  the  French. 

When  matters  of  etiquette  had  thus  been  arranged, 
"Wolsey  rode  out  of  Calais  on  22d  July,  and  pursued 
his  journey  to  Abbeville,  where  he  awaited  the  ar- 
rival of  Francis  I.  at  Amiens.  On  4th  August  he 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  245 

entered  Amiens,  and  was  received  with  royal  honors. 
His  interviews  which  Francis  and  the  queen-mother 
were  most  satisfactory  on  matters  of  general  policy: 
the  English  alliance  was  firmly  accepted,  and  all 
questions  between  the  two  Crowns  were  in  a  fair 
way  towards  settlement.  Wolsey  waited  till  the 
political  alliance  was  firmly  established  before  he 
broached  the  personal  matter  of  the  divorce. 
Meanwhile  he  meditated  on  the  schemes  which  might 
be  pursued  by  the  allied  kings  to  satisfy  Henry's 
desires.  He  proposed  that  they  should  join  in  de- 
manding from  Charles  Y.  that  he  should  restore  the 
Pope's  independence,  in  the  hope  that  the  Pope 
when  freed  from  constraint  would  be  willing  to 
show  his  gratitude  by  complying  with  Henry's  de- 
mands. If  they  failed  in  procuring  the  Pope's  re- 
lease, they  should  declare  the  papal  power  to  be  in 
abeyance,  and  summon  the  cardinals  to  meet  at 
Avignon,  where,  under  Wolsey's  presidency,  they 
should  transact  such  business  as  the  Pope  in  his  cap- 
tivity was  unable  to  discharge. 

Either  of  these  methods  was  technically  decorous ; 
but  they  did  not  much  commend  themselves  to  Henry 
YIII. ,  whose  passion  for  Anne  Boleyn  daily  in- 
creased, and  who  was  impatient  of  any  procedure 
that  involved  delay.  So  Henry  listened  coldly  to 


24:6  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Wolsey's  proposals  for  a  "sure,  honorable,  and 
safe"  termination  of  the  "king's  matter,"  as 
the  divorce  was  now  called :  he  wished  for  a  "  good 
and  brief  conclusion, ' '  and  gave  ear  to  the  advice 
of  Anne  Boleyn  and  her  friends.  It  was  easy  for 
them  to  point  out  that  Wolsey  was  an  old-fashioned 
statesman,  full  of  prejudice  where  the  Church  was 
concerned.  They  urged  that  the  king  could  do  bet- 
ter for  himself,  and  could  deal  more  expeditiously 
with  the  Pope  than  could  a  churchman  who  was 
bound  to  adopt  a  humble  attitude  towards  his  eccle- 
siastical superior.  So  Henry  determined  to  take 
the  matter  into  his  own  hands,  and  send  his  secretary 
Knight  to  negotiate  with  the  Pope  without  Wolsey 's 
intervention. 

"Wolsey,  meanwhile,  in  ignorance  of  the  King's 
intentions,  but  distressed  at  the  difficulties  which  he 
foresaw,  followed  the  French  Court  to  Compiegne, 
where  he  divided  his  time  between  diplomatic  con- 
flicts, festivities,  and  the  despatch  of  business.  One 
morning,  Cavendish  tells  us,  "  He  rose  early  about 
four  of  the  clock,  sitting  down  to  write  letters  into 
England  unto  the  king,  commanding  one  of  his  chap- 
lains to  prepare  him  to  mass,  insomuch  that  the  said 
chaplain  stood  revested  until  four  of  the  clock  at 
afternoon ;  all  which  season  my  lord  never  rose  once 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE. 

even  to  eat  any  meat,  but  continually  wrote  his  let- 
ters, with  his  own  hands,  having  all  that  time  his 
nightcap  and  kerchief  on  his  head.  And  about  the 
hour  of  four  of  the  clock,  at  afternoon,  he  made  an 
end  of  writing,  and  commanded  one  Christopher 
Gunner,  the  king's  servant,  to  prepare  him  without 
delay  to  ride  empost  into  England  with  his  letters, 
whom  he  despatched  away  or  ever  he  drank.  And 
that  done  he  went  to  mass,  and  said  his  other  divine 
service  with  his  chaplain,  as  he  was  accustomed  to 
do ;  and  then  went  straight  into  a  garden ;  and  after 
he  had  walked  the  space  of  an  hour  or  more,  and 
said  his  evensong,  he  went  to  dinner  and  supper  all 
at  once ;  and  making  a  small  repast,  he  went  to  his 
bed,  to  take  his  rest  for  the  night." 

While  Wolsey  was  thus  laboring  in  this  thorny 
matter,  he  received  a  visit  from  Knight  on  his  way 
to  Rome.  Knight's  instructions  were  to  demand 
from  the  Pope  a  dispensation  for  Henry  to  marry 
again  before  the  divorce  from  Katharine  had  been 
pronounced ;  failing  this,  to  marry  immediately  after 

» 

his  marriage  with  Katharine  was  declared  invalid. 
Further,  he  was  to  ask  the  Pope  to  issue  a  bull 
delegating  his  spiritual  authority  to  Cardinal  Wolsey 
during  his  captivity.  No  doubt  this  was  an  expedi- 
tious way  to  cut  existing  difficulties ;  but  it  was  too 


248  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

expeditious  to  suit  the  traditions  of  the  Papal  Court, 
Its  obvious  clumsiness  showed  that  it  was  not  the 
work  of  Wolsey's  hand ;  and  it  was  unwise  for  the 
king  to  inform  the  Pope  that  he  was  trying  to  act 
without  Wolsey's  knowledge. 

Though  "Wolsey  was  left  in  ignorance  of  the 
nature  of  Knight's  instructions,  he  could  not  but 
suspect  that  the  king  was  acting  without  his  full 
knowledge.  He  finished  his  work  at  Compiegne 
and  returned  to  England  at  the  end  of  September. 
He  at  once  repaired  to  the  Court  at  Richmond,  and 
sent  to  tell  the  king  of  his  arrival.  Hitherto  the 
king  had  always  retired  to  a  private  room  when  he 
received  the  cardinal  alone.  Now  Anne  Boleyn 
was  with  the  king  in  the  great  hall,  and  scarcely 
had  Wolsey's  message  been  delivered  than  she  broke 
in,  "  Where  else  should  the  cardinal  come  than 
here  where  the  king  is?  r  The  king  confirmed 
her  command,  and  Wolsey  found  himself  ushered 
into  the  hall,  where  Henry  sat  amusing  himself 
with  Anne  and  his  favorites.  Serious  talk  was  out 
of  the  question.  Wolsey  was  no  longer  first  in  the' 
king's  confidence.  He  went  away  feeling  that 
Anne  Boleyn  was  his  political  rival,  whom  he  could 
only  overcome  by  serving  better  than  she  could 
serve  herself.  Henceforth  he  had  two  masters  in- 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  249 

stead  of  one,  and  he  did  not  deceive  himself  that 
the  continuance  of  his  power  depended  solely  on 
his  usefulness  in  the  matter  of  the  divorce. 

As  Wolsey  showed  himself  compliant,  Anne 
Boleyn  treated  him  graciously  while  she  waited  to 
hear  the  result  of  Knight's  mission  to  Rome.  It 
was  not  easy  for  him  to  enter  the  city,  which  was 
in  possession  of  the  Spaniards,  and  when  he  entered 
it  he  could  not  hold  any  personal  communication 
with  Clement  VII. ,  who  was  shut  up  in  the  Castle 
of  St.  Angelo.  On  9th  December  Clement  escaped 
to  Orvieto,  where  Knight  soon  joined  him,  and 
showed  his  incapacity  for  the  work  which  had  been 
confided  to  him  by  revealing  to  the  papal  officials 
the  whole  details  of  the  matter,  which  he  ought  to 
have  kept  secret.  Clement  saw  at  once  the  value 
of  Henry's  conscientious  scruples,  and  learned  that 
he  was  moved  solely  by  a  desire  to  marry  Anne 
Boleyn,  a  connection  which  could  not  be  excused 
by  any  paramount  reasons  of  political  expediency. 
However  anxious  the  Pope  might  be  to  oblige  the 
English  king,  there  were  limits  to  his  complacency, 
and  Knight  had  not  the  wits  to  cast  a  fair  appear- 
ance over  a  disgraceful  matter.  Yet  Clement  did 
not  wish  to  offend  Henry  by  refusing  his  request 
at  once.  The  demand  for  a  dispensation  empower- 


250  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

ing  the  king  to  marry  at  once  had  already  been 
dropped  at  Wolsey 's  instance.  Knight  carried  with 
him  a  form  of  dispensation  allowing  Henry  to  marry 
as  soon  as  his  marriage  with  Katharine  was  dis- 
solved. This  form  was  amended  by  one  of  the  car- 
dinals, and  was  signed  by  the  Pope.  Knight 
started  back  to  England,  convinced  that  he  had 
done  his  business  excellently,  and  was  bearing  to 
the  king  the  permission  which  he  desired. 

When  the  documents  were  placed  in  Wolsey 's  hands 
he  saw  at  once  that  they  were  worthless.  What 
Henry  wanted  was  permission  for  Wolsey  to  decide 
the  question  in  the  Pope's  behalf,  and  permission 
for  himself  to  act  at  once  as  soon  as  Wolsey 's  de- 
cision was  pronounced.  The  documents  which  he 
received  did  not  bar  Katharine's  right  of  appeal  ; 
consequently  Wolsey 's  decision  would  be  of  no 
effect,  and  the  king  could  not  lawfully  marry  again 
pending  the  appeal.  In  fact,  the  Pope  reserved 
the  entire  decision  of  the  matter  in  his  own  hand. 

It  was  a  small  matter  for  Wolsey  to  triumph  over 
a  man  like  Knight  ;  but  Knight's  failure  showed 
Henry  and  Anne  Boleyn  that  they  must  put  their 
confidence  in  Wolsey  after  all.  So  in  February, 
1528,  Wolsey  had  to  begin  again  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  had  to  undo  the  mischief  which  Knight's 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  251 

bungling  had  made.  He  chose  as  his  agents  his  secre- 
tary, Stephen  Gardiner,*  and  Edward  Foxe,  one  of 
the  king's  chaplains.  They  were  instructed  to  ask 
that  the  Pope  would  join  with  Wolsey  some  special 
legate,  and  give  them  power  to  pronounce  a  final 
judgment.  For  this  purpose  they  were  to  plead 
Henry's  cause  with  all  earnestness,  and  say  that  the 
king  was  moved  only  by  the  scruples  of  his  con- 
science ;  at  the  same  time  they  were  to  praise  the 
virtues  of  Anne  Boleyn,  and  say  that  the  king  was 

*  Stephen  Gardiner  (1483  ?-1555)  whose  talents  made  him 
always  prominent,  and  whose  career  extended  through  the 
reigns  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  Edward  VI.,  and  into  that  of 
Bloody  Mary,  experienced  many  reverses  of  fortune.  Under 
Henry  he  was  in  high  favor,  and  under  Edward  he  was 
thrown  into  the  tower  where  he  was  confined  for  five  years. 
He  was  an  extreme  Catholic  and  an  enemy  of  Cranmer, 
whom  he  tried  unsuccessfully  to  convict  of  heresy,  and  he 
took  a  leading  part  in  the  proceedings  that  led  to  the  burning 
of  Bradford  and  Rogers.  He  held  to  the  validity  of  the 
marriage  of  Henry  VIII.  to  Katharine,  and  consequently  to 
the  illegitimacy  of  Elizabeth.  "His  whole  treatment  of 
Elizabeth  remains  one  of  the  most  sinister  features  of  his  later 
career,"  writes  Mullinger.  Froude  says  that  "there  was 
something  in  Gardiner's  character  which  was  not  wholly 
execrable.  For  thirty  years  he  worked  unweariedly  in  the 
service  of  the  public ;  his  judgment  as  a  member  of  the 
council  was  generally  excellent.  .  .  .  He  was  vindictive, 
ruthless,  treacherous;  but  his  courage  was  indomitable." 
His  ecclesiastical  office  was  Bishop  of  Winchester,  to  whose 
magnificent  building  he  added  a  beautiful  chantry.  He  died 
at  an  advanced  age  of  the  gout,  and  was  buried  in  Winchester 
Cathedral. 


252  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

solely  moved  by  considerations  of  his  duty  to  his 
country  in  his  desire  to  marry  her.  Further,  they 
were  to  insist  on  the  dishonor  which  would  be  done 
to  the  Holy  See  if  the  Pope,  through  fear  of  Charles 
V.,  were  to  refuse  to  do  justice.  If  the  king  could 
not  obtain  justice  from  the  Pope  he  would  be  com- 
pelled to  seek  it  elsewhere,  and  live  outside  the 
laws  of  Holy  Church;  and  however  reluctant,  he 
would  be  driven  to  this  for  the  quiet  of  his  con- 
science. 

Truly  these  pleas  were  sorely  contradictory. 
Henry  was  ready  to  acknowledge  to  the  fullest  ex- 
tent the  papal  power  of  granting  dispensations,  and 
was  ready  to  submit  to  the  justice  of  the  Pope  as 
the  highest  justice  upon  earth.  But  this  was  solely 
on  condition  that  the  Pope  gave  decision  according 
to  his  wishes.  He  regarded  the  Papacy  as  an  ex- 
cellent institution  so  long  as  it  was  on  his  own  side. 
If  it  refused  to  see  the  justice  of  his  pleas,  then  he 
fell  back  as  strenuously  as  did  Luther  on  the  neces- 
sity of  satisf\ang  his  own  conscience,  and  to  do  so 
he  was  ready,  if  need  were,  to  break  with  the 
Church.  Truly  the  movement  in  Germany  had 
affected  public  opinion  more  than  was  supposed 
when  Wolsey  could  hold  such  language  to  the  Pope. 
He  did  not  know  what  a  terrible  reality  that  curious 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  253 

conscience   of  Henry   would  become.     His   words 
were  a  truer  prophecy  than  he  dreamed. 

However,  this  line  of  argument  was  stubbornly 
pursued  by  Gardiner  even  in  the  Pope's  presence. 
Clement  at  Orvieto  was  not  surrounded  by  the  pomp 
and  splendor  customary  to  his  office.  The  English 
envoys  found  him  in  a  little  room,  seated  on  a 
wooden  bench  which  was  covered  with  uan  old 
coverlet  not  worth  twenty  pence."  But  he  did  not 
see  his  way  to  a  restoration  of  his  dignity  by  an  un- 
hesitating compliance  with  the  demands  of  the  Eng- 
lish king ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  mere  fact  that  his 
fortunes  had  sunk  so  low  demanded  greater  circum- 
spection. He  was  not  likely  to  escape  from  depend- 
ence on  Charles  Y.  by  making  himself  the  tool  of 
Francis  I.  and  Henry  VIII. ;  such  a  proceeding 
would  only  lead  to  the  entire  destruction  of  the 
papal  authority.  Its  restoration  must  be  achieved 
by  holding  the  balance  between  the  opposing 
Powers  of  Europe,  and  Henry  VIII.  's  desire  for  a 
divorce  gave  the  Pope  an  opportunity  of  showing 
that  he  was  still  a  personage  of  some  importance. 
Dynastic  questions  still  depended  on  his  decree,  and 
he  could  use  Henry's  application  as  a  means  of 
showing  Charles  that  he  had  something  to  fear  from 
the  Papacy,  and  that  it  was  his  policy  to  make  the 


254  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Papacy  friendly  to  himself.  So  Clement  resolved 
to  adopt  a  congenial  course  of  temporizing,  in  the 
hope  that  he  might  see  his  advantage  in  some  turn 
of  affairs.  No  doubt  he  thought  that  Henry's 
matter  would  soon  settle  itself ;  either  his  passion 
for  Anne  Boleyn  would  pass  away,  or  he  would 
make  her  his  mistress.  The  stubbornness  of  Henry, 
his  strange  hold  upon  formal  morality  while  pur- 
suing an  immoral  course  of  conduct,  his  imperious 
self-will,  which  grew  by  opposition — these  were 
incalculable  elements  which  might  have  upset  the 
plans  of  wiser  men  than  Clement  VII. 

So  the  Pope  acted  the  part  of  the  good  simple 
man  who  wishes  to  do  what  is  right.  He  lamented 
his  own  ignorance,  and  proposed  to  consult  those 
who  were  more  learned  in  canon  law  than  himself. 
When  Gardiner  said  that  England  asked  nothing 
but  justice,  and  if  it  were  refused  would  be  driven 
to  think  that  God  had  taken  away  from  the  Holy 
See  the  key  of  knowledge,  and  would  begin  to 
adopt  the  opinion  of  those  who  thought  that  pontif- 
ical laws,  which  were  not  clear  to  the  Pope  him- 
self, might  well  be  committed  to  the  flames,  Cle- 
ment sighed,  and  suggested  a  compromise.  Then 
he  added,  with  a  smile,  that  though  canonists  said 
"  the  Pope  has  all  laws  in  the  cabinet  of  his  breast," 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  355 

yet  God  had  not  given  him  the  key  to  open  that 
cabinet ;  he  could  only  consult  his  cardinals. 

Gardiner's  outspoken  remonstrances  were  useless 
against  one  who  pleaded  an  amiable  incompetence. 
Against  the  churnings  of  Henry's  conscience  Clement 
set  up  the  churnings  of  his  own  conscience,  and  no 
one  could  gainsay  the  Pope's  right  to  a  conscience 
as  much  as  the  English  king.  After  pursuing  this 
course  during  the  month  of  March  the  Pope  at 
length  with  sighs  and  tears  devised  a  compromise, 
in  which  he  feared  that  he  had  outstepped  the 
bounds  of  discretion.  He  accepted  one  of  the  docu- 
ments which  the  English  envoys  had  brought,  the 
permission  for  the  king  to  marry  whom  he  would  as 
soon  as  his  marriage  with  Katharine  had  been  dis- 
solved. He  altered  the  terms  of  the  other  docu- 
ment, which  provided  for  the  appointment  of  a  com- 
mission with  plenary  powers  to  pronounce  on  the 
validity  of  the  king's  marriage;  he  granted  the 
commission,  but  did  not  give  it  plenary  power ;  at 
the  same  time  he  chose  as  the  commissioner  who  was 
to  sit  with  Wolsey  Cardinal  Campeggio,  who  was 
the  protector  of  England  in  the  Papal  Court,  and 
who  was  rewarded  for  his  services  by  holding  the 
bishopric  of  Hereford.  In  this  way  he  showed 
every  mark  of  goodwill  to  Henry  short  of  acquies- 


256  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

cing  entirely  in  the  procedure  which  he  proposed ; 
but  he  kept  the  final  decision  of  the  matter  in  his 
own  hands. 

Gardiner  was  not  wholly  pleased  with  this  result 
of  his  skill  and  firmness :  after  all  his  efforts  to  ob- 
tain a  definite  solution  the  Pope  had  managed  to  es- 
cape from  giving  any  binding  promise.  Still,  Foxe 
put  a  good  face  on  Gardiner's  exploits  when  he  re- 
turned to  England  in  the  end  of  April.  Henry  and 
Anne  Boleyn  were  delighted,  and  Wolsey,  though 
he  was  more  dissatisfied  than  Gardiner,  thought  it 
best  to  be  hopeful.  He  tried  to  bind  the  Pope  more 
firmly,  and  instructed  Gardiner  to  press  that  the 
law  relating  to  Henry's  case  should  be  laid  down  in 
a  papal  decretal,  so  that  the  legates  should  only  have 
to  determine  the  question  of  fact ;  this  decretal  he 
promised  to  keep  entirely  secret;  besides  this,  he 
urged  that  there  should  be  no  delay  in  sending  Cam- 
peggio. 

During  these  months  of  expectancy  Wolsey  conde- 
scended to  ingratiate  himself  with  Anne  Boleyn, 
who  had  become  a  political  personage  of  the  first 
importance.  Anne  was  sure  of  "Wolsey 's  devotion 
to  her  interests  so  long  as  they  were  also  the  king's, 
and  could  not  dispense  with  Wolsey 's  skill.  So  she 
was  kindly,  and  wrote  friendly  letters  to  Wolsey, 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  257 

and  asked  for  little  gifts  of  tunny-fish  and  shrimps. 
The  English  Court  again  resembled  an  amiable 
family  party,  whose  members  were  all  of  one  mind. 
In  the  course  of  the  summer  they  were  all  thrown 
into  terror  by  an  outbreak  of  the  "  Sweating  Sick- 
ness, ' '  which  devastated  the  country.  Anne  Boleyn 
was  attacked,  though  not  severely;  and  Henry 
showed  that  his  devotion  to  her  did  not  proceed  to 
the  length  of  risking  his  own  precious  life  for  her 
sake.  He  fled  to  Waltham,  and  Anne  was  left  with 
her  father ;  Henry  protested  by  letter  his  unalter- 
able affection,  but  kept  out  of  harm's  way  till  all 
risk  of  infection  was  past.  At  the  same  time  he 
showed  great  solicitude  for  Wolsey 's  health,  as  did 
also  Anne  Boleyn.  It  seemed  as  though  Wolsey 
were  never  more  useful  or  more  highly  esteemed. 

Yet,  strangely  enough,  this  outbreak  of  the  plague 
drew  upon  Wolsey  the  most  significant  lesson  which 
he  had  yet  received  of  his  own  real  position  and  of 
Henry's  resoluteness  to  brook  no  check  upon  his 
royal  will.  Amongst  others  who  perished  in  the 
sickness  was  the  Abbess  of  Wilton,  and  Anne  Boleyn 
wished  that  the  vacant  office  should  be  given  to  one 
of  the  nuns  of  the  abbey,  Eleanor  Garey,  sister  of 
William  Carey,  who  had  married  Anne's  sister 
Mary.  Wolsey  was  informed  of  the  wishes  of  Anne 
17 


258  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

and  of  the  king  on  this  point ;  but  on  examination 
found  that  Eleanor's  life  and  character  were  not 
such  as  to  fit  her  for  the  office.  He  therefore  pro- 
posed to  confer  it  on  the  prioress,  Isabella  Jordan. 
It  would  seem,  however,  that  Eleanor's  friends  were 
determined  to  efface  in  some  degree  the  scandal 
which  their  unwise  haste  had  occasioned,  and  they 
retaliated  by  spreading  reports  injurious  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  prioress.  Wolsey  did  not  believe  these 
reports ;  but  Anne  Boleyn  and  the  king  agreed  that 
if  their  nominee  was  to  be  set  aside,  the  cardinal's 
nominee  should  be  set  aside  likewise,  and  Wolsey 
was  informed  of  the  king's  decision.  Perhaps  "Wol- 
sey failed  to  understand  the  secret  motives  which 
were  at  work ;  perhaps  he  had  so  far  committed 
himself  before  receiving  the  king's  message  that  he 
could  not  well  go  back ;  perhaps  he  conscientiously 
did  what  he  thought  right.  Anyhow,  he  appointed 
Isabella  Jordan,  and  sent  her  appointment  to  the 
king  for  confirmation ;  further,  he  gave  as  his  ex- 
cuse that  he  had  not  understood  the  king's  will  in 
the  matter. 

To  his  extreme  surprise  and  mortification  the  king 
took  the  opportunity  thus  afforded  of  reading  him  a 
lecture  on  his  presumption,  and  reminding  him  that 
he  was  expected  to  render  implicit  obedience. 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  259 

Matters  were  no  longer  arranged  between  Henry 
and  Wolsey  alone ;  Anne  Boleyn  was  a  third  party, 
and  the  king's  pride  was  engaged  in  showing  her 
that  his  word  was  law.  When  Henry  took  his  pen 
in  hand  he  assumed  the  mantle  of  royal  dignity, 
and  he.  now  gave  Wolsey  a  sample  of  the  royal  way 
of  putting  things  which  was  so  effectual  in  his  later 
dealings  with  his  Parliament.  He  began  by  assur- 
ing Wolsey  that  the  great  love  he  bore  him  led  him 
to  apply  the  maxim,  < '  Whom  I  love  I  chasten ;  ' : 
he  spoke  therefore  not  in  displeasure  but  for  Wol- 
sey's  good.  He  could  not  but  be  displeased  that 
Wolsey  had  acted  contrary'  to  his  orders ;  he  was 
the  more  displeased  that  Wolsey  had  pleaded  igno- 
rance as  an  excuse  for  his  disobedience.  He  over- 
whelmed him  with  quotations  from  his  letters  on 
the  subject,  and  went  on,  u  Ah,  my  lord,  it  is  a 
double  offence  both  to  do  ill  and  color  it  too ;  but 
with  men  that  have  wit  it  cannot  be  accepted  so. 
Wherefore,  good  my  lord,  use  no  more  that  way 
with  me,  for  there  is  no  man  living  that  more  hateth 
it. ' '  He  then  went  on  to  tell  Wolsey  that  there  were 
many  rumors  current  about  the  means  which  he  was 
employing  to  raise  money  from  religious  houses  for 
the  foundation  of  his  new  colleges ;  he  told  him  this 
because  "  I  dare  be  bolder  with  you  than  many  that 


260  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

mumble  it  abroad. ' '  He  showed  that  he  had  not 
forgotten  the  refusal  of  the  monasteries  to  help  in 
the  Amicable  Grant:  why  should  they  now  give 
money  to  Wolsey  unless  they  had  some  interested 
motive  in  doing  so?  He  advised  Wolsey  to  look 
closely  into  the  matter,  and  ended,  "I  pray  you, 
my  lord,  think  not  that  it  is  upon  any  displeasure 
that  I  write  this  unto  you.  For  surely  it  is  for  my 
discharge  afore  God,  being  in  the  room  that  I  am 
in ;  and  secondly,  for  the  great  zeal  I  bear  unto  you, 
not  undeserved  on  your  behalf.  Wherefore,  I  pray 
you,  take  it  so ;  and  I  assure  you,  your  fault  ac- 
knowledged, there  shall  remain  in  me  no  spark  of 
displeasure ;  trusting  hereafter  you  shall  recompense 
that  with  a  thing  much  more  acceptable  to  me." 

This  letter  came  upon  Wolsey  as  a  sudden  revela- 
tion of  his  true  position.  It  showed  him  the  reality 
of  all  the  vague  doubts  and  fears  which  he  had  for 
some  time  been  striving  to  put  from  him.  He  was 
crushed  into  abjectness,  which  he  did  not  even  strive 
to  conceal  from  others.  He  took  the  immediate 
matters  of  complaint  seriously  to  heart,  and  wished 
to  annul  the  appointment  of  Isabella  Jordan,  which 
the  king  ruled  to  be  unnecessary ;  on  that  point  he 
was  satisfied  with  having  asserted  a  principle.  But 
he  advised  Wolsey  to  receive  no  more  gifts  for  his 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  261 

colleges  from  religious  houses,  and  Wolsey  promised 
not  to  do  so.  "  Thereby  I  trust,  nor  by  any  other 
thing  hereafter  unlawfully  taken,  your  poor  cardi- 
nal's conscience  shall  not  be  spotted,  encumbered, 
or  entangled;  purposing,  with  God's  help  and  your 
gracious  favor,  so  to  order  the  rest  of  my  poor  life 
that  it  shall  appear  to  your  Highness  that  I  love  and 
dread  God  and  also  your  Majesty. ' '  This  was  a 
lamentable  prostration  of  the  moral  authority  of  the 
chief  churchman  in  England  before  the  king,  and 
showed  Wolsey 's  weakness.  He  knew  that  he  had 
not  demeaned  himself  as  befitted  his  priestly  office ; 
and  though  he  may  have  felt  that  no  man  in  Eng- 
land had  less  right  than  the  king  to  reprove  his  con- 
duct on  moral  grounds,  still  he  could  not  plead  that 
he  was  above  reproach.  In  the  particular  matter  of 
which  he  was  accused — extorting  money  from  the 
religious  houses  in  return  for  immunities  granted  in 
virtue  of  his  legatine  power — there  is  no  evidence 
that  Wolsey  was  guilty.  But  he  could  not  say  that 
he  had  a  conscience  void  of  offence ;  he  had  acted 
throughout  his  career  as  a  statesman  and  a  man  of 
the  world.  If  the  king  chose  to  hold  him  up  to 
moral  reprobation  he  had  no  valid  defence  to  offer. 
He  had  disregarded  the  criticisms  of  others  that  he 
might  serve  the  king  more  faithfully;  but  if  the 


262  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

king  took  upon  himself  the  office  of  critic  he  had 
nothing  to  urge.  It  was  because  Henry  had  taken 
the  measure  of  churchmen  such  as  Wolsey  that  he 
ventured  in  later  times  to  hold  such  lofty  language 
in  addressing  the  clergy.  Henry  was  always  su- 
perior to  the  weakness  of  imagining  that  his  own 
conduct  needed  any  defence,  or  his  own  motives 
any  justification. 

Wolsey,  though  forgiven  with  royal  graciousness, 
was  profoundly  depressed,  and  could  not  recover  his 
sense  of  security.  The  future  was  to  him  big  with 
menaces,  and  perhaps  he  looked  most  sadly  upon  his 
designs  which  yet  remained  unrealized.  He  saw 
that  his  activity  must  henceforth  work  in  a  smaller 
sphere,  and  that  he  must  make  haste  to  finish  what 
he  had  on  hand.  The  ugly  business  of  the  divorce 
looked  to  him  still  uglier.  Either  he  would  fail 
in  his  efforts  to  move  the  Pope,  in  which  case  he 
lost  his  hold  upon  the  king  at  once,  or,  if  he  suc- 
ceeded, he  saw  that  the  reign  of  Anne  Boleyn 
meant  the  end  of  his  own  uncontested  influence. 
The  king's  letter  was  at  least  significant  of  that :  he 
would  never  have  raised  a  question  about  so  trivial 
a  matter  if  he  had  not  wished  to  justify  his  abso- 
lute power  in  the  eyes  of  one  who  was  to  him  all- 
important. 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  263 

So  Wolsey  faced  the  future ;  he  put  his  aspira- 
tions on  a  lower  level,  and  wished  only  to  garner 
certainly  some  of  the  fruits  of  his  life-long  labor. 
He  told  the  French  ambassador,  De  Bellay,  "  that 
if  God  permitted  him  to  see  the  hatred  of  these 
two  nations  (France  and  England)  extinguished,  and 
firm  amity  established,  as  he  hopes  it  will  shortly 
be,  with  a  reform  of  the  laws  and  customs  of  the 
country,  such  as  he  would  effect  if  peace  were 
made,  and  the  succession  of  the  kingdom  assured, 
especially  if  this  marriage  took  place,  and  an  heir 
male  were  born  of  it,  he  would  at  once  retire,  and 
serve  God  for  the  rest  of  his  life ;  and  that,  with- 
out any  doubt,  on  the  first  honorable  occasion  he 
could  find,  he  would  give  up  politics."  Doubtless 
Wolsey  was  genuine  in  these  utterances,  and  felt 
that  he  was  resigning  much  when  he  reduced  his  de- 
signs within  the  limits  which  he  here  set  forth. 
But  limited  as  they  were,  they  still  contained  an 
entire  scheme  for  the  reconstruction  of  English  poli- 
tics. Wolsey 's  plans  remained  complete,  however 
much  he  might  be  willing  to  reduce  them ;  he  was 
incapable  of  being  a  mere  attendant  upon  chance. 

For  the  present  he  was  awaiting  with  growing 
anxiety  the  coming  of  Cardinal  Campeggio,  which 
was  delayed,  according  to  the  Pope's  policy  of  pro- 


264  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

crastination.  First  the  cardinal  had  to  contend 
against  the  difficulties  created  by  the  disorderly 
state  of  Italy ;  then  he  was  delayed  by  an  attack 
of  the  gout,  which  made  his  movements  slow ;  and 
he  did  not  reach  London  till  8th  October.  When 
he  came  he  was  not  prepared  to  act  at  once,  nor 
did  he  treat  Wolsey  as  an  equal  but  rather  as  a 
subordinate  in  the  work  of  the  commission.  In 
fact,  Campeggio  behaved  as  judge,  and  Wolsey  as 
the  king's  advocate.  Campeggio' s  instructions  were 
first  to  try  and  persuade  the  king  to  lay  aside  his 
purpose  of  a  divorce.  He  soon  saw  that  this  was 
useless,  and  Wolsey  plainly  warned  him  with  pro- 
phetic instinct.  "Most  reverend  lord,  beware  lest, 
in  like  manner  as  the  greater  part  of  Germany, 
owing  to  the  harshness  and  severity  of  a  certain 
cardinal,  has  become  estranged  from  the  Apostolic 
See  and  the  faith,  it  should  be  said  that  another 
cardinal  has  given  the  same  occasion  to  England, 
with  the  same  result." 

Failing  to  shake  the  king's  determination,  the 
next  course  which  Campeggio  was  ordered  to  pur- 
sue was  to  persuade  the  queen  to  comply  with  the 
king's  wishes.  Katherine  was  still  treated  with 
outward  respect,  but  was  cut  off  from  all  friends 
and  advisers,  and  subjected  to  a  secret  and  galling 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  265 

persecution.  Still  she  maintained  a  resolute  spirit, 
and  withstood  the  pleadings  of  Wolsey  and  Cam- 
peggio,  who  urged  her  to  give  way  and  withdraw 
to  a  monastery,  for  the  quieting  of  the  king's  con- 
science. Katherine  replied  that  there  was  nothing 
of  which  his  conscience  need  be  afraid,  and  that  she 
intended  < i  to  live  and  die  in  the  estate  of  matri- 
mony to  which  God  had  called  her."  The  obsti- 
nacy of  Katherine  was  as  invincible  as  the  obstinacy 
of  Henry ;  and  Katharine  had  right  on  her  side. 

Nothing  remained  save  for  the  legates  to  proceed 
to  the  trial  of  the  case ;  and  in  the  trial  Campeg- 
gio's  instructions  bade  him  procrastinate  to  the  ut- 
most in  hopes  the  king  might  give  way  before  the 
long  delay.  Wolsey  had  foreseen  this  possibility 
when  he  demanded  that  Campeggio  should  bring 
with  him  a  decretal  defining  the  law  as  applicable 
to  the  case.  This  decretal  Ca.mpeggio  was  in- 
structed to  show  the  king,  but  keep  in  his  own 
hands,  so  that  it  was  useless  for  Wolsey's  purpose. 
His  first  object  was  to  get  hold  of  this  decretal,  and 
he  wrote  urgently  to  the  Pope  asking  that  it  should 
be  delivered  into  the  king's  hands,  and  shown  to 
the  Privy  Council.  "  Without  the  Pope's  compli- 
ance, "he  sadly  wrote,  c t  I  cannot  bear  up  against 
this  storm."  But  Clement  VII.  felt  that  he  was 


266  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

more  dependent  on  Charles  V.  than  on  Henry  VIII. , 
and  declared  that  he  had  granted  the  decretal  merely 
to  be  shown  to  the  king  and  then  burned ;  he  had 
never  consented  that  it  be  shown  to  the  king's 
counsellors.  When  he  was  further  pressed  he  tossed 
his  arms  and  said,  with  great  agitation,  "  I  do  con- 
sider the  ruin  that  hangs  over  me ;  I  repent  what  I 
have  done.  If  heresies  arise,  is  it  my  fault?  My 
conscience  acquits  me.  None  of  you  have  any  rea- 
son to  complain.  I  have  performed  my  promise, 
and  the  king  and  the  cardinal  have  never  asked 
anything  in  my  power  which  I  have  not  granted 
with  the  utmost  readiness;  but  I  will  do  no  vio- 
lence to  my  conscience.  Let  them,  if  they  like, 
send  the  legate  back  again,  on  the  pretext  that  he 
will  not  proceed  in  the  cause,  and  then  do  as  they 
please,  provided  they  do  not  make  me  responsible 
for  injustice. ' ' 

Here  the  Pope  touched  upon  a  noticeable  feature 
of  the  case.  Henry  was  bound  upon  a  course  which 
was  neither  legally  nor  morally  right,  though  na- 
tional interests  might  to  some  degree  be  pleaded  in 
its  behalf.  He  was,  however,  resolved  to  be  legally 
and  morally  justified  in  his  own  eyes  and  in  the 
eyes  of  others.  He  would  not  content  himself  with 
setting  aside  the  law,  and  leaving  it  to  others  to 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  267 

prove  him  in  the  wrong.  The  Papal  Court  was 
slow  to  justify  him;  it  would  have  been  slower  to 
condemn  him.  Most  men  would  have  been  satis- 
fied with  this  knowledge,  and  would  have  acted 
upon  it.  But  Henry  was  not  only  minded  to  do 
what  he  wished,  but  was  resolved  that  what  he 
wished  should  be  declared  absolutely  right.  He 
was  determined  that  there  should  be  no  doubt  about 
the  legitimacy  of  his  children  by  Anne  Boleyn; 
and  some  recognition  is  due  to  him  for  not  allow- 
ing his  desires  to  overcome  his  patriotism  and  leave 
to  England  the  deplorable  legacy  of  a  disputed  suc- 
cession. As  a  man,  Henry  did  not  strive  to  subject 
his  desires  to  the  law  of  right ;  as  a  king,  he  was 
bent  upon  justifying  his  own  caprice  so  that  it 
should  not  do  hurt  to  his  royal  office,  or  offend  his 
duty  to  his  kingdom.  Henry  sinned,  but  he  was 
bent  on  sinning  royally,  and  believed  that  so  he 
could  extenuate  his  sin. 

Not  only  was  Campeggio  ordered  not  to  part 
with  the  decretal,  but  he  was  bidden  to  destroy 
it.  Meanwhile  a  new  feature  of  the  case  emerged. 
It  became  known  that,  besides  the  bull  of  dispen- 
sation granted  to  Henry  VII. ,  an  ampler  brief  had 
been  issued  in  confirmation  of  it  to  Ferdinand  of 
Spain,  of  which  the  original  was  contained  in  the 


268  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Spanish  archives.  Henry  YIII.  insisted  on  its  pro- 
duction, in  the  hopes  of  destroying  it  or  casting 
doubts  on  its  authenticity,  and  new  negotiations 
were  begun  about  this  brief,  which  had  the  effect 
of  wasting  time  and  deferring  the  trial  of  the  case. 
Further,  on  Clement  YII.'s  return  to  Rome  in 
May  he  was  attacked  by  illness,  and  his  death  was 
reported.  Nothing  could  be  done  by  the  legates 
till  they  were  assured  of  his  recovery. 

Meanwhile  Henry  was  growing  more  and  more 
impatient,  and  made  it  clear  to  Wolsey  that  if  the 
proceedings  did  not  lead  to  his  divorce  all  the  blame 
would  be  laid  at  Wolsey's  door.  Anne  Boleyn  also 
began  to  suspect  "Wolsey's  good  intentions  towards 
herself,  and  thought  that  he  was  responsible  for 
these  repeated  delays.  Wolsey  could  no  longer 
doubt  that  his  all  was  staked  on  the  issue  of  the 
trial,  which  at  length  began  at  Blackfriars  on  18th 
June,  1529.  Katharine  appeared,  and  protested 
against  the  jurisdiction  of  the  court.  For  the  pur- 
pose of  deciding  this  point  it  was  necessary  that 
both  parties  should  appear  in  person ;  and  on  21st 
June  Henry  and  Katharine  both  were  present. 
The  king  demanded  instant  judgment  for  the  eas- 
ing of  his  conscience ;  Katharine  first  knelt  before 
the  king  and  asked  for  pity,  then  she  appealed  to 


I 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  269 

Home,  where  only  the  cause  could  be  decided  with- 
out partiality  or  suspicion.  The  legates  overruled 
her  appeal,  and  on  her  non-appearance  declared  her 
contumacious. 

The  summoning  of  the  king  and  queen  was  merely 
a  formal  incident  in  the  procedure  of  the  court,  but 
it  strangely  impressed  itself  upon  men's  minds. 
The  king,  whom  they  regarded  as  the  fountain  of 
law,  was  called  to  plead  before  one  of  his  own  sub- 
jects and  a  foreign  priest.  Apart  from  any  thought 
of  the  question  at  issue,  or  its  rights  and  wrongs, 
Englishmen  marvelled  at  this  indignity,  and  felt 
that  ecclesiastical  law  was  some  foreign  thing  which 
they  could  not  fathom.  No  doubt  the  impression 
then  wrought  upon  their  minds  accounts  in  some 
measure  for  the  acceptance  of  the  royal  supremacy, 
as  being  at  least  more  intelligible  than  the  actual 
working  of  the  outworn  theory  of  the  supremacy  of 
the  Pope. 

Moreover,  the  suppliant  attitude  of  Katharine 
awakened  a  strong  feeling  of  compassion,  which  on 
28th  June  found  expression  from  the  upright  Bishop 
of  Eochester,  John  Fisher,  who  appeared  to  plead 
Katharine's  cause,  and  declared  himself  ready  to 
follow  the  example  of  John  the  Baptist  and  lay 
down  his  life,  if  need  be,  to  maintain  the  sanctity 


270  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

of  matrimony.  Others  followed  his  example,  and 
the  signs  of  some  dislike  to  the  king's  proceedings 
amongst  Englishmen  encouraged  Campeggio  to  fall 
back  upon  his  policy  of  procrastination,  which  the 
impetuous  zeal  of  Wolsey  was  striving  to  over- 
come. 

Henry  grew  more  and  more  angry  at  the  signs  of 
opposition  to  his  will  which  met  him  on  every  side, 
and  Wolsey  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the  royal 
wrath.  Cavendish  tells  how  one  day  Wolsey  left 
the  king's  presence  and  took  his  barge.  The 
Bishop  of  Carlisle,  who  was  with  him,  remarked 
that  the  day  was  hot.  uYea,"  quoth  my  lord 
cardinal,  u  if  ye  had  been  as  well  chafed  as  I  have 
been  within  this  hour  ye  would  say  it  was  very  hot. ' ' 
He  went  home  "  to  his  naked  bed,"  where  in  two 
hours'  time  he  was  found  by  Lord  Wiltshire,  who 
brought  a  message  from  the  king,  bidding  him  and 
Oampeggio  "repair  unto  the  queen  at  Bridewell, 
into  her  chamber,  to  persuade  her  by  their  wisdoms, 
advising  her  to  surrender  the  whole  matter  unto  the 
king's  hands  by  her  own  will  and  consent,  which 
should  be  much  better  to  her  honor  than  to  stand 
to  the  trial  of  law  and  be  condemned,  which  would 
seem  much  to  her  slander  and  defamation. ' '  Wol- 
sey vainly  complained  of  the  folly  of  the  lords  of 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  271 

the  Council  in  putting  such  fancies  into  the  king's 
head :  he  was  bound  to  rise  and  obey.  Sadly  he 
sought  Campeggio,  and  with  a  sense  of  deep  humil- 
iation the  two  judges  set  out  to  make  another  at- 
tempt to  browbeat  an  accused  who  had  already  re- 
fused to  submit  to  their  judicial  authority. 

On  23d  July  it  was  expected  that  the  court  would 
give  its  decision.  The  king  was  present  in  a  gal- 
lery, 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  fol- 
low 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,  u  of  all  men  within  this  realm  ye 
have  least  cause  to  dispraise  or  be  offended  at  car- 
dinals :  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  man- 
ner of  displeasure. ' ' 

But  though  Wolsey  could  still  wear  a  bold  face 


272  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

when  attacked,  he  knew  that  the  future  was  hope- 
less. 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's 
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  oppor- 
tunity of  avenging  themselves  for  all  the  slights 
which  Wolsey  had  put  upon  them.  Henry  was  un- 
willing 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  Home,  and  recall  the  powers  granted  to  the  leg- 
ates; 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  aban- 
doned before  the  absorbing  interest  of  this  miser- 
able 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 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  273 

had  some  claim  on  Francis  I.'s  gratitude.  Yet 
Francis  was  negotiating  for  peace  with  Charles  Y. , 
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  confer- 
ence 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  trans- 
ference 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 
18 


274  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

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  proceed- 
ings at  Cambrai,  but  allowed  himself  to  be  hood- 
winked by  Francis  I.,  even  in  the  point  about  which 
he  was  most  interested.  The  peace  of  Cambrai  left 
Charles  Y.  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  con- 
nected 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  Eng- 
lish 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  influ- 
ence of  the  king's  personal  desires.  Wolsey  had 
planned  a  conservative  reform,  to  be  carried  out 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  275 

gradually.  England,  respected  on  the  Continent, 
and  holding  the  balance  between  France  and  the 
Empire,  was  gradually  to  assert  its  power  and  in- 
dependence by  setting  up  a  strong  monarchy  which 
should  overawe  the  Papacy,  and  without  any  for- 
mal 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  sud- 
denly imposed  upon  him.  Yet  if  it  failed  there  it 
was  sure  to  be  condemned  altogether,  and  the  future 


276  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

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  au- 
thority 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  Gar- 
diner, 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  in- 
fluence the  peace  of  Cambrai,  there  was  no  further 


THE  KING'S  DIVORCE.  277 

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  pre- 
pared to  return  to  Rome,  and  accompanied  by  Wol- 
sey  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  behavior.  If  they  ex- 
pected 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 


278  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Wolsey  dined  with  the  lords  of  the  Council.  In 
course  of  conversation  he  hinted  at  his  own  inten- 
tions 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,  i '  Nay, 
to  your  see  of  York,  whence  comes  both  your  great- 
est honor  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  re- 
sult, 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. ' '  Wol- 
sey rode  off  to  "Master  Empson's  house,  called, 


THE  KING:S  DIVORCE.  379 

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  re- 
turned 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  pro- 
ceedings of  the  legatine  court,  and  give  judgment  in 
Henry's  favor,  sheltering  himself  under  the  terms  of 
the  commission,  and  applying  the  interpretation  of 


280  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

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  cardi- 
nal' s  poverty.  He  had  come  to  England  ill  provided, 
and  had  gained  nothing  from  the  royal  bounty. 

This  unworthy  device  seems  to  have  been  of 
Henry's  own  devising ;  and  as  soon  as  he  heard  of 
its  failure  Wolsey's  doom  was  sealed.  The  king 
had  treated  him  graciously,  to  the  dismay  even  of 
Anne  Boleyn,  a  few  days  before;  now  he  aban- 
doned him  to  his  enemies,  who  had  their  weapons 
of  attack  in  readiness.  On  9th  October  the  king's 
attorney  sued  for  a  writ  ofprcemunire  against  Wol- 
sey,  on  the  ground  that  his  acts  done  as  legate  were 
contrary  to  the  statute.  After  this  Wolsey's  ruin 
was  a  foregone  conclusion. 


CHAPTEK  X. 

THE   FALL   OF   WOLSEY. 

1529-1530. 

WHEN  the  storm  broke  over  his  head  Wolsey  had 
no  hope  of  escape.  His  position  as  an  English  min- 
ister was  due  entirely  to  the  king's  favor,  and  when 
that  favor  was  withdrawn  he  was  entirely  helpless. 
Outside  the  king  there  was  no  motive  power  in  Eng- 
lish politics  at  this  period.  There  was  no  party  in 
the  State  strong  enough  to  bring  any  influence  to 
bear  upon  him :  he  was  likely  to  be  moved  by  noth- 
ing save  the  dread  of  a  popular  rising,  and  there 
was  no  chance  of  a  popular  rising  in  Wolsey 's  favor. 
On  the  other  hand,  Wolsey  had  been  contented  to 
take  upon  his  own  shoulders  the  responsibility  of  all 
that  was  most  unpopular  in  the  king's  proceedings. 
The  demands  created  by  the  king's  extravagance 
were  put  down  to  his  extortionate  nature ;  the  debts 
incurred  by  a  policy  which  he  disapproved  were  sup- 
posed to  be  the  results  of  his  influence ;  even  the 

281 


282  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

divorce  was  attributed  to  his  ill-will  against  the 
Emperor  and  his  love  for  France.  The  current  of 
popular  opinion  ran  strong  against  Wolsey.  He 
had  made  few  friends  and  many  enemies.  His  ene- 
mies were  powerful,  his  friends  were  powerless. 
No  one  in  England  could  lend  him  any  help. 

It  is  true  that  the  charge  brought  against  him 
was  most  iniquitous.  He  had  obtained  his  legatine 
authority  through  the  king's  urgent  request;  he  had 
used  it  solely  at  the  king's  orders,  and  in  the  king's 
behalf.  But  he  knew  that  such  a  plea  would  not 
be  regarded,  as  the  king's  courts  would  simply  reg- 
ister the  king's  will.  There  was  no  other  course 
than  entire  submission,  and  before  the  king  Wolsey 
had  no  thought  of  personal  dignity.  He  wrote  to 
Henry  as  a  lowly  suppliant,  "For  surely,  most 
gracious  king,  the  remembrance  of  my  folly,  with 
the  sharp  sword  of  your  Highness' s  displeasure,  hath 
so  penetrated  my  heart  that  I  cannot  but  lament- 
ably cry,  It  is  enough;  now  stay,  most  merciful 
king,  your  hand. ' '  Such  loyalty,  such  entire  sub- 
mission, is  to  our  minds  inconceivable,  and  only 
shows  how  the  possession  of  absolute  power  debases 
not  only  those  who  are  invested  with  it  but  those 
who  are  brought  in  contact  with  them.  Wolsey 
might  indeed  lament  his  " folly"  in  putting  any 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  283 

trust  in  princes ;  he  had  served  his  master  only  too 
well,  and  met  with  the  basest  ingratitude  for  all  the 
sacrifices  of  his  own  wishes  and  his  own  principles. 

Still  he  hoped  by  his  submission  to  save  some- 
thing. If  sentence  were  pronounced  against  him, 
under  the  charge  of  prcemunire,  his  goods  would  be 
forfeited,  and  his  acts  invalidated.  If  he  threw 
himself  upon  the  king's  mercy  he  might  at  least 
save  his  two  colleges,  and  might  be  permitted  to 
serve  his  country  on  a  smaller  scale.  What  was 
coming  he  could  not  foresee.  There  would  be  open 
war  between  Henry  and  the  Papacy,  waged  with 
new  weapons  and  fraught  with  danger  to  the  Eng- 
lish Church.  u  It  is  the  intention  of  these  lords," 
wrote  the  French  ambassador,  u  when  "Wolsey  is 
dead  or  destroyed,  to  get  rid  of  the  Church  and 
spoil  the  goods  of  both.  I  suppose  they  mean  to 
do  grand  things."  The  days  of  revolution  were  at 
iand,  and  Wolsey  might  still  have  some  power  to 
clieck  its  excesses. 

His  submission  led  to  no  immediate  results.  On 
16th  October  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  de- 
manded the  surrender  of  the  great  seal,  and  ordered 
"Wolsey  to  depart  to  his  house  at  Esher.  Wolsey 
would  humble  himself  before  the  king,  but  not  be- 
fore others,  and  calmly  asked  them  for  their  au- 


284  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

thority.  They  answered  that  they  had  the  king's 
commission  by  word  of  mouth.  "  The  great  seal  of 
England, ' '  said  Wolsey,  c '  was  delivered  me  by  the 
king's  own  person,  to  enjoy  during  my  life,  with 
the  ministration  of  the  office  and  high  room  of 
chancellorship  of  England ;  for  my  surety  whereof 
I  have  the  king's  letters-patent  to  show."  High 
words  were  used  by  the  dukes,  but  in  the  end  they 
departed,  and  reappeared  next  day  with  letters  from 
the  king.  On  reading  them  Wolsey  delivered  up 
the  seal,  and  expressed  himself  content  to  withdraw 
to  Esher. 

Before  departing  he  made  an  inventory  of  all  his 
plate  and  tapestries,  that  it  might  be  ready  for  the 
king  to  take  possession.  He  further  signed  an  in- 
denture acknowledging  that  on  the  authority  of 
bulls  obtained  from  Rome,  which  he  published 
in  England  contrary  to  the  statute,  he  had  unlaw- 
fully vexed  the  prelates  of  the  realm  and  other  of 
the  king's  subjects,  thereby  incurring  the  penalties 
of  prcBinunire,  by  which  also  he  deserved  to  suffer 
perpetual  imprisonment  at  the  king's  pleasure,  and 
to  forfeit  all  his  lands,  offices,  and  goods.  He  be- 
sought the  king,  in  part  recompense  of  his  offences, 
to  take  into  his  hands  all  his  temporal  possessions. 
Then  he  entered  his  barge  in  the  presence  of  a 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  285 

crowd,  which  was  sorely  disappointed  not  to  see 
him  take  the  way  to  the  Tower. 

When  Wolsey  arrived  at  Putney  he  was  greeted 
by  a  messenger  from  the  king,  who  brought  him  as 
a  token  a  ring,  with  a  message  "  that  the  king  bade 
him  be  of  good  cheer,  for  he  should  not  lack.  Al- 
though the  king  hath  dealt  with  you  unkindly,  he 
saith  that  it  is  for  no  displeasure  that  he  beareth 
you,  but  only  to  satisfy  the  minds  of  some  which  he 
knoweth  be  not  your  friends.  Also  ye  know  right 
well  that  he  is  able  to  recompense  you  with  twice 
as  much  as  your  goods  amounteth  unto:  and  all 
this  he  bade  me  that  I  should  show  you.  There- 
fore, sir,  take  patience ;  and  for  my  part,  I  trust  to 
see  you  in  better  estate  than  ever  ye  were. ' '  When 
Wolsey  heard  this  he  dismounted  from  his  mule  and 
knelt  in  the  mud  in  sign  of  thankfulness.  He  gave 
a  present  to  the  messenger,  and  grieved  that  he  had 
no  worthy  gift  to  send  to  the  king.  Presently  he 
bethought  himself  of  a  jester  belonging  to  his  house- 
hold. "If  ye  would  at  my  request  present  the 
king  with  this  poor  fool,  I  trust  his  Highness  would 
accept  him  well,  for  surely  for  a  nobleman's  pleas- 
ure he  is  worth  a  thousand  pounds. "  It  is  a  re- 
lief to  find  in  this  dismal  story  some  signs  of  hu- 
man feeling.  "The  poor  fool  took  on  so,  and 


286  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

fired  so  in  such  a  rage  when  he  saw  that  he  must 
needs  depart  from  my  lord, ' '  that  six  tall  yeomen 
had  to  be  sent  as  an  escort  to  convey  him.  safely  to 
the  Court. 

It  is  needless  to  seek  for  a  motive  for  Henry's 
conduct  in  sending  this  delusive  message ;  probably 
he  did  it  through  an  amiable  desire  to  make  himself 
generally  agreeable.  No  man  likes  to  feel  that  he 
is  acting  villainously ;  perhaps  Henry's  conscience 
felt  all  the  pleasure  of  having  performed  a  virtu- 
ous action  when  he  heard  of  Wolsey's  gratitude  for 
such  a  small  mercy.  Henry  VIII.  was  nothing  if 
he  was  not  conscientious ;  but  he  made  large  drafts 
on  his  conscience,  and  paid  them  back  in  small 
coin.  Probably  we  have  here  the  record  of  such  a 
payment. 

Certainly  Henry  did  nothing  to  give  his  good- 
will towards  Wolsey  any  practical  expression;  he 
did  not  even  send  him  any  money  to  provide  his 
household  with  the  necessaries  of  life.  For  a  month 
they  remained  "  without  beds,  sheets,  tablecloths, 
cups,  and  dishes  to  eat  their  meat  or  lie  in,"  and 
ultimately  had  to  borrow  them.  What  most  dis- 
tressed Wolsey,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  munifi- 
cence, was  that  he  had  not  even  money  to  pay  the 
wages  of  his  household  before  he  dismissed  them 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  287 

sadly  from  his  service.  In  his  straits  one  of  his 
officials  came  to  his  aid,  and  showed  his  tact  and 
management  in  affairs  of  business.  Thomas  Crom- 
well, the  son  of  a  London  citizen,  spent  an  adven- 
turous youth  in  business  on  the  Continent,  and  set- 
tled in  London  as  a  small  attorney  and  a  money- 
lender. Wolsey  had  found  out  his  ability,  and  em- 
ployed him  to  manage  the  dissolution  of  the  monas- 
teries, and  transact  the  business  connected  with  the 
foundation  of  his  colleges.  No  doubt  this  gave  him 
opportunities  of  spreading  his  own  business,  and 
making  himself  useful  friends.  In  anticipation  of 
the  future  he  contrived  to  get  himself  elected  as 
member  of  the  Parliament  for  which  Henry  VIII. 
issued  writs  upon  the  suspension  of  the  legatine 
court. 

Cromwell  accompanied  Wolsey  to  Esher,  and 
was  much  moved  by  the  thought  of  the  loss  which 
his  patron's  fall  was  likely  to  inflict  upon  himself. 
On  1st  November  Cavendish  found  him  leaning  in 
the  window  "  with  a  primer  in  his  hand,  saying 
our  Lady  mattins.  He  prayed  not  more  earnestly 
than  the  tears  distilled  from  his  eyes."  He  la- 
mented that  he  was  in  disdain  with  most  men  for  his 
master's  sake,  and  surely  without  just  cause;  but 
he  was  resolved  that  afternoon  to  ride  to  London, 


288  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

and  so  to  the  Court,  ' '  where  I  will  either  make  or 
mar,  or  I  come  again."  After  dinner  he  talked 
with  Wolsey  about  his  household,  and  then  showed 
his  power  of  gaining  popularity  at  the  expense  of 
others.  "Have  you  not,"  he  exclaimed,  "a 
number  of  chaplains,  to  whom  ye  have  departed 
very  liberally  with  spiritual  promotions  ?  and  yet 
have  your  poor  servants  taken  much  more  pains  for 
you  in  one  day  than  all  your  idle  chaplains  have 
done  in  a  year.  Therefore  if  they  will  not  freely 
and  frankly  consider  your  liberality,  and  depart 
with  you  of  the  same  goods  gotten  in  your  service, 
now  in  your  great  indigence  and  necessity,  it  is 
pity  that  they  live."  Wolsey  agreed;  he  sum- 
moned his  household,  and  addressed  them  in  a  dig- 
nified speech;  he  gave  them  a  month's  holiday, 
that  they  might  seek  some  more  profitable  service. 
Then  Cromwell  said  that  they  lacked  money,  and 
himself  tendered  five  pounds  towards  their  pay- 
ment, adding,  "Now  let  us  see  what  you  chap- 
lains will  do. "  The  example  was  contagious,  and 
contributions  poured  in.  The  household  was  paid, 
and  departed  full  of  thankfulness  to  Cromwell. 
Then,  after  a  private  conversation  with  Wolsey, 
Cromwell  rode  off  to  London  to  ( c  make  or  mar. ' ' 
Parliament  met  on  3d  November,  and  Wolsey 's 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  289 

enemies  hoped  that  its  first  business  would  be 
Wolsey 's  impeachment.  For  this,  however,  Henry 
YIII.  was  not  prepared,  though  he  did  not  openly 
forbid  it.  He  was  not  sure  of  the  capacity  of  his 
new  advisers,  and  perhaps  felt  that  he  might  have 
further  need  of  Wolsejr's  services.  Anyhow  it  was 
better  to  keep  his  opponents  in  constant  fear  of  his 
return  to  power.  They  were  bound  together  rather 
by  opposition  to  Wolsey  than  by  any  agreement 
amongst  themselves ;  and  Henry  was  not  very  san- 
guine about  their  administrative  success.  The 
Duke  of  JSTorfolk,  the  uncle  of  Anne  Boleyn,  was 
president  of  the  Council,  and  Suffolk  was  vice- 
president.  The  chancellorship  was  given  to  Sir 
Thomas  More,  who  was  well  fitted  by  his  literary 
reputation  and  high  character  to  calm  the  fears  of 
moderate  men,  and  show  Europe  that  the  English 
king  had  no  lack  of  eminent  servants.  The  chan- 
cellorship of  the  duchy  of  Lancashire  was  given  to 
the  treasurer  of  the  household,  Sir  William  Fitz- 
william,  a  capable  official.  Gardiner  preferred  an 
ecclesiastical  post,  and  succeeded  to  the  bishopric 
of  Winchester,  which  Wolsey  was  bidden  to  resign. 
It  still  remained  to  be  seen  if  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and 
More  could  fill  the  place  of  Wolsey. 

Parliament  was   opened  by  the   king;  and 
19 


290  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

chancellor,  according  to  custom,  made  a  speech.  In 
the  course  of  it  More  showed  that  a  man  of  letters 
does  not  necessarily  retain  his  literary  taste  in  poli- 
tics, and  that  high  character  does  not  save  a  states- 
man from  the  temptation  to  catch  a  passing  cheer 
by  unworthy  taunts  at  his  defeated  adversary.  He 
spoke  of  the  king  as  shepherd  of  his  people,  and 
went  on,  i  l  As  you  see  that  amongst  a  great  flock 
of  sheep  some  be  rotten  and  faulty,  which  the 
good  Shepherd  sendeth  from  the  good  sheep,  so 
the  great  wether  which  is  of  late  fallen,  as  you 
all  know,  so  craftily,  so  scabbedly,  yea,  and  so  un- 
truly juggled  with  the  king,  that  all  men  must 
needs  guess  and  think  that  he  thought  in  him- 
self that  he  had  no  wit  to  perceive  his  crafty  doing, 
or  else  that  he  presumed  that  the  king  would  not 
see  nor  know  his  fraudulent  juggling  and  attempts. 
But  he  was  deceived;  for  his  Grace's  sight  was  so 
quick  and  penetrating  that  he  saw  him,  yea,  and 
saw  through  him,  both  within  and  without,  so  that 
all  things  to  him  were  open ;  and  according  to  his 
deserts  he  hath  had  a  gentle  correction. ' ' 

This  speech  of  More  served  as  introductory  to  a 
Bill  which  was  brought  into  the  Upper  House  for 
disabling  "Wolsey  from  being  restored  to  his  former 
dignities  and  place  in  the  king's  Council.  It  was 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  39! 

founded  upon  a  series  of  articles  which  had  been 
drawn  up  by  his  enemies  long  before,  and  were  a 
tissue  of  frivolous  or  groundless  charges.  The  bill 
passed  the  Lords,  but  on  its  introduction  into  the 
Commons  was  opposed  by  Cromwell,  who  knew 
that  the  king  did  not  wish  it  to  be  passed.  It  an- 
swered its  purpose  of  casting  a  stigma  on  "Wolsey, 
and  justifying  Henry's  conduct  towards  him ;  but 
Henry  did  not  intend  to  deprive  himself  of  the 
power  of  employing  Wolsey  again  if  he  should 
prove  useful.  So  Cromwell  served  the  king  while 
he  served  Wolsey,  and  served  himself  at  the  same 
time  by  a  display  of  zeal  for  his  fallen  master  which 
raised  him  in  men's  esteem,  "  so  that  at  length,  for 
his  honest  behavior  in  his  master's  cause,  he  grew 
into  such  estimation  in  every  man's  opinion,  that 
he  was  esteemed  to  be  the  most  faithfullest  servant 
to  his  master  of  all  others,  wherein  he  was  of  all 
men  greatly  commended. ' '  Moreover,  he  managed 
to  make  friends  by  the  sure  tie  of  self-interest.  He 
advised  Wolsey  to  buy  off  the  hostility  of  important 
men  by  granting  them  pensions  out  of  the  revenues 
of  his  see :  as  he  chose  the  recipients  of  the  money 
and  negotiated  the  grants  he  gained  more  gratitude 
than  Wolsey  gained  profit  out  of  the  transaction. 
Wolsey  believed  that  his  prospects  depended  on 


292  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

Cromwell's  zeal,  and  the  great  cardinal  became  sub- 
missive to  the  direction  of  one  whom  he  had  raised. 
He  abode  at  Esher  in  a  state  of  feverish  anxiety, 
sometimes  receiving  a  present  and  a  gracious  mes- 
sage from  the  king,  often  irritated  by  Cromwell, 
who  deluded  him  by  a  cheap  display  of  zeal,  griev- 
ing most  of  all  at  the  uncertainty  of  the  fortunes  of 
his  great  colleges,  which  he  still  wished  to  leave  as 
a  memorial  to  posterity  of  the  schemes  which  he 
intended. 

Parliament  was  prorogued  in  the  middle  of  De- 
cember, and  the  Bill  against  Wolsey  was  allowed 
to  drop.  The  king  and  Anne  Boleyn  were  delighted 
with  the  cardinal's  house  at  York  Place,  of  which 
they  took  possession,  and  Wolsey  was  still  left  in 
uncertainty  about  his  future.  Anxiety  preyed  upon 
his  health,  and  at  Christmas  he  fell  ill.  The  news 
of  his  illness  seems  to  have  brought  some  remorse 
to  Henry,  who  sent  his  own  physician,  and  eagerly 
asked  for  tidings,  saying,  "  I  would  not  lose  him  for 
twenty  thousand  pounds. ' '  Doctor  Buttes  answered, 
"  Then  must  your  Grace  send  him  some  comfort- 
able message  as  shortly  as  is  possible."  The  king 
gave  Buttes  a  favorite  ring  from  his  own  finger, 
saying,  < '  Tell  him  that  I  am  not  offended  with  him 
in  my  heart  nothing  at  all,  and  that  shall  he  per- 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  293 

ceive,  and  God  send  him  life  very  shortly."  He 
asked  Anne  Boleyn  to  send  also  a  "  token  with 
comfortable  words,"  and  Anne  at  his  command 
obeyed,  overcoming  her  reluctance  by  the  thought 
that  the  cardinal  was  on  his  deathbed. 

Doctor  Buttes's  prescription  was  a  good  one,  and 
with  revived  hopes  Wolsey  speedily  recovered.  On 
2d  February,  1530,  the  king  sent  him  some  furniture 
for  his  house  and  chapel.  On  12th  February  he 
received  a  full  pardon  for  his  offences,  and  on  14th 
February  was  restored  to  the  archbishopric  of  York 
and  its  possessions  excepting  York  Place,  which  the 
king  retained  for  himself.  He  entreated  to  be  al- 
lowed to  keep  also  the  bishopric  of  Winchester  and 
the  Abbey  of  St.  Alban's;  but  Gardiner  had  his 
eye  on  "Winchester,  and  the  Dukes  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk  were  anxious  that  Wolsey  should  not  hold  a 
post  which  might  bring  him  into  the  neighborhood  of 
the  king.  He  was  compelled  to  resign  both  these 
offices,  and  recognized  in  this  the  power  of  his  foes. 

The  damp  air  of  Esher  was  hurtful  to  his  health, 
and  he  received  permission  to  change  his  residence 
to  Richmond  Lodge.  There  he  stayed  until  the 
state  of  the  roads  allowed  him  to  take  his  journey 
northwards,  which  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  pressed  him 
to  do  in  forcible  language.  "  Show  him,"  he  said 


294:  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

to  Cromwell,  "  that  if  he  go  not  away  shortly,  I 
will,  rather  than  he  should  tarry  still,  tear  him  with 
my  teeth."  When  Wolsey  heard  this  he  said, 
* i  Marry,  Thomas,  then  it  is  time  to  be  going,  if 
my  lord  of  Norfolk  take  it  so.  Therefore  I  pray 
you  go  to  the  king  and  say  that  I  would  with  all 
my  heart  go  to  my  benefice  at  York  but  for  want  of 
money."  Wolsey 's  immediate  necessities  were 
grudgingly  supplied  by  the  lords  of  the  Council,  and 
in  the  beginning  of  Passion  Week  he  began  his 
journey  to  York.  He  was  received  with  courtesy 
by  the  gentry  on  the  way.  The  manor-house  at 
Southwell,  where  he  resolved  to  live,  required  some 
repairs,  and  he  could  not  occupy  it  till  5th  June. 

In  his  house  at  Southwell  Wolsey  received  the 
neighboring  gentry,  and  jj  made  himself  popular 
amongst  them.  He  lived  simply,  and  applied  him- 
self to  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  his  office  with 
great  success.  A  pamphlet  published  in  1536  says 
of  him :  "  Who  was  less  beloved  in  the  north  than 
my  lord  cardinal  before  he  was  amongst  them? 
Who  better  beloved  after  he  had  been  there  a  while? 
He  gave  bishops  a  right  good  example  how  they 
might  win  men's  hearts.  There  were  few  holy  days 
but  he  would  ride  five  or  six  miles  from  his  house, 
now  to  this  parish  church,  now  to  that,  and  there 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  295 

cause  one  or  other  of  his  doctors  to  make  a  sermon 
unto  the  people.  He  sat  amongst  them  and  said 
mass  before  all  the  parish ;  he  saw  why  churches  were 
made ;  he  began  to  restore  them  to  their  right  and 
proper  use ;  he  brought  his  dinner  with  him,  and 
bade  divers  of  the  parish  to  it.  He  inquired  whether 
there  were  any  debate  or  grudge  between  any  of 
them.  If  there  were,  after  dinner  he  sent  for  the 
parties  to  the  church  and  made  them  all  one. ' '  It 
is  an  attractive  picture  of  episcopal  activity  which  is 
here  set  before  us.  We  wish  that  "Wolsey  had  been 
great  enough  to  realize  the  pleasure  of  these  simple 
duties  so  thoroughly  as  to  wean  himself  from  the 
allurements  of  political  ambition.  But  Wolsey  in 
his  retirement  was  something  like  Machiavelli  in 
exile :  he  found  some  satisfaction  for  his  activity  in 
the  doings  of  peasants,  but  he  went  home  and  han- 
kered for  the  great  life  of  politics  which  was  denied 
him.  He  meditated  still  how  he  could  overthrow 
his  enemies  and  return  to  the  more  complex  prob- 
lems in  which  he  had  been  trained. 

At  the  end  of  the  summer  Wolsey  removed  from 
Southwell  to  another  manor-house  at  Scrooby, 
where  he  continued  the  same  mode  of  life.  All  this 
time  his  actions  were  jealously  watched  by  his  ene- 
mies, who  suspected  him  of  trying  to  gain  popu- 


296  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

larity  and  raise  up  a  party  in  his  favor.  They  did 
their  best  to  keep  him  in  perpetual  annoyance  by 
threats  of  legal  proceedings  touching  the  possessions 
of  the  see  of  York.  The  king  paid  no  heed  to  him 
save  to  exact  all  the  money  he  could  from  his  for- 
feiture. Amongst  other  things  which  the  king 
claimed  was  the  payment  of  Wolsey's  pension  from 
the  French  king;  and  his  care  for  Wolsey's  health 
at  Christmas  may  have  been  due  to  the  fact  that  he 
thought  that  Wolsey's  life  had  a  pecuniary  value  to 
himself.  He  presently  dissolved  "Wolsey's  college 
at  Ipswich,  and  seized  all  its  lands  and  possessions. 
It  was  a  bitter  blow  to  Wolsey  to  see  his  plans  thus 
overthrown.  He  had  hoped  to  found  an  institution 
which  should  promote  education  where  it  was  sore- 
ly needed  in  the  eastern  counties.  It  was  the  be- 
ginning of  a  project  which  would  have  led  to  the 
foundation  of  local  universities,  which  it  has  been 
reserved  to  our  own  day  to  revive.  If  Wolsey  had 
remained  in  power  monastic  revenues  would  have 
been  increasingly  diverted  to  educational  purposes, 
and  England  would  have  been  provided  with  col- 
leges which  would  have  grown  with  local  needs. 
The  dissolution  of  the  college  at  Ipswich  checked 
this  process  at  the  beginning,  and  negatived  any 
scheme  for  the  slow  transformation  of  the  monas- 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  997 


tenes  into  institutions  which  were  in  accordance 
with  national  needs. 

Cardinal  College  at  Oxford  met  with  better  for- 
tune. Wolsey  pleaded  hard  for  its  preservation, 
and  the  authorities  of  the  college  made  a  stand  in 
its  behalf.  The  king  was  not  yet  prepared  to  seize 
the  lands  of  the  dissolved  monastery  of  St.  Frides- 
wyde,  or  of  the  old  Canterbury  Hall,  which  had 
been  absorbed,  and  it  could  be  shown  that  he  would 
lose  as  much  as  he  would  gain  by  attempting  an  ac- 
curate division  of  the  property  of  the  college.  He 
agreed  to  ' '  have  an  honorable  college  there,  but 
not  so  great  and  of  such  magnificence  as  my  lord 
cardinal  intended  to  have,  for  it  is  not  thought  meet 
for  the  common  weal  of  our  realm. ' '  The  site  of 
the  college  and  a  portion  of  its  revenues  were  saved 
from  the  commissioners  who  were  realizing  Wolsey's 
forfeiture ;  but  the  name  of  Christ  Church  obliter- 
ated that  of  Cardinal  College,  and  Henry  VIII.  en- 
deavored as  far  as  he  could  to  associate  the  founda- 
tion with  himself  and  dissociate  it  from  Wolsey. 

This  persistent  disregard  of  the  ideas  which  Wol- 
sey had  striven  to  put  forward  weighed  heavily  on 
his  spirits.  "I  am  put  from  my  sleep  and  meat," 
he  wrote,  "  for  such  advertisements  as  I  have  had 
of  the  dissolution  of  my  colleges."  It  was  not  only 


298  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

the  sense  of  personal  disappointment  which  afflicted 
him ;  it  was  the  hopeless  feeling  that  all  his  policy 
was  being  reversed.  Wolsey  was  in  his  way  a 
churchman,  and  hoped  as  a  statesman  to  bring  the 
Church  into  accordance  with  the  national  needs. 
He  saw  that  only  in  this  way  could  the  existing  re- 
sources of  the  Church  be  saved  from  the  hand  of  the 
spoiler.  The  king's  desire  to  seize  upon  the  reve- 
nues of  his  colleges  showed  him  that  Henry  had  cast 
away  the  principles  which  Wolsey  had  striven  to 
enforce,  that  he  had  broken  through  the  limits  which 
Wolsey  had  endeavored  to  set,  and  that  when  once 
he  had  tasted  his  prey  his  appetite  was  likely  to  be 
insatiable.  This  taught  Wolsey  that  his  own  fu- 
ture was  hopeless.  On  the  lower  level  to  which  the 
king  had  sunk  he  was  not  likely  to  need  the  car- 
dinal's aid.  Wolsey's  great  schemes  for  the  future 
were  to  make  way  for  a  policy  mainly  dictated  by 
present  greed.  Henry  VIII.  had  discovered  how 
great  his  power  was,  and  intended  to  use  it  for  the 
satisfaction  of  his  own  desires. 

So  Wolsey  turned  himself  more  attentively  to  the 
duties  of  his  episcopal  office,  hoping  thereby  to  make 
some  amends  for  past  neglect,  and  fill  up  with  use- 
ful work  the  remainder  of  his  days.  His  poverty 
bad  prevented  him  from  taking  possession  of  his 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  999 

cathedral,  as  he  had  no  money  to  defray  the  ex- 
penses of  his  installation.  By  the  end  of  September 
he  had  managed  to  scrape  together  £1500,  and  set 
out  from  Scrooby  to  York.  On  his  way  he  was 
busied  with  confirmations.  At  St.  Oswald's  Abbey 
he  confirmed  children  from  eight  in  the  morning  till 
noon ;  after  dinner  he  returned  to  the  church  at  one, 
and  continued  his  confirmation  till  four,  when  he 
was  constrained  for  weariness  to  sit  down  in  a  chair. 
Next  morning  before  his  departure  he  confirmed  a 
hundred  children  more ;  and  as  he  rode  on  his  way 
he  found  at  Ferrybridge  two  hundred  children  wait- 
ing for  confirmation  at  a  stone  cross  standing  upon 
the  green.  It  was  late  in  the  evening  before  he 
reached  Cawood  Castle,  seven  miles  from  York. 
There  he  was  visited  by  the  Dean  of  York,  and 
made  arrangements  for  his  installation. 

This  ceremony,  however,  was  not  to  take  place. 
"Wolsey's  enemies  were  implacable,  especially  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  who  was  alarmed  at  the  renewal 
of  Wolsey's  popularity  in  the  north,  and  at  the 
signs  of  vigor  which  he  showed.  His  actions  were 
jealously  watched  and  eagerly  criticised  to  find  some 
opportunity  for  a  charge  against  him,  which  was  at 
last  found  in  Wolsey's  communications  with  foreign 
envoys.  It  would  seem  that  Wolsey  could  not  recon- 


300  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

cile  himself  to  political  inactivity,  and  trusted  that 
the  influence  of  Francis  I.,  for  whom  he  had  done 
so  much,  would  be  used  in  his  favor.  But  Francis 
treated  Wolsey  with  the  proverbial  ingratitude  of 
politicians.  Wolsey  had  been  a  friend  of  France, 
but  his  friendship  had  been  costly,  and  Francis  I. 
found  that  the  new  ministers  were  equally  friendly 
to  France,  and  did  not  demand  so  much  in  return. 
In  truth,  Henry,  though  he  had  abandoned  Wolsey 
for  his  failure  in  the  matter  of  the  divorce,  had  not 
been  better  served  by  his  new  advisers,  who  had  no 
other  course  to  follow  than  that  which  Wolsey  had 
marked  out — to  use  the  close  alliance  with  France 
as  a  means  of  bringing  pressure  to  bear  upon  the 
Pope.  So  Norfolk  was  obsequious  to  Francis,  who 
preferred  to  deal  with  a  man  of  Norfolk's  calibre 
rather  than  acknowledge  a  master  in  Wolsey. 

Of  this  Wolsey  was  ignorant ;  and  he  no  longer 
showed  his  old  dexterity  in  promoting  his  own  in- 
terests. He  made  the  mistake  of  trusting  to  the  old 
methods  of  diplomacy  when  his  position  was  no 
longer  that  of  a  minister,  and  when  he  had  been  re- 
moved from  actual  touch  of  current  affairs.  He 
opened  up  communications  with  the  French  envoy 
by  means  of  a  Venetian  physician,  Agostino,  who 
was  a  member  of  his  household.  He  even  com- 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  301 

municated  with  the  imperial  envoy  as  well.  How- 
ever harmless  these  communications  might  be,  they 
were  certainly  indiscreet,  and  were  capable  of  being 
represented  to  the  king  as  dangerous.  Norfolk 
gained  some  information,  either  from  the  French 
envoy  or  from  Agostino,  and  laid  before  the  king 
charges  against  Wolsey,  i  i  that  he  had  written  to 
Eome  to  be  reinstated  in  his  possessions,  and  to 
France  for  its  favor;  and  was  returning  to  his 
ancient  pomp,  and  corrupting  the  people."  There 
was  not  much  in  these  charges ;  but  Norfolk  was 
afraid  of  "Wolsey  in  the  background,  and  quailed 
before  the  king's  bursts  of  petulance,  in  which  he 
said  that  the  cardinal  knew  more  about  the  business 
of  the  State  than  any  of  his  new  advisers.  Henry 
was  quite  satisfied  with  the  proceeds  of  spoiling 
Wolsey,  and  was  glad  to  keep  him  in  reserve ;  but  the 
suggestion  that  Wolsey  was  intriguing  with  foreign 
Courts  sorely  angered  him,  and  he  gave  orders  that 
Wolsey  be  brought  to  trial  to  answer  for  his  conduct. 
So  Sir  Walter  Walshe  was  sent  with  a  warrant 
to  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  and  arrived  as 
Wolsey  was  busied  at  Cawood  with  the  prelimi- 
naries of  his  installation.  On  4th  November,  when 
Wolsey  had  retired  from  dinner  and  was  sitting  in 
his  own  room  over  his  dessert,  the  Earl  of  North- 


302  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

umberland  appeared,  and  demanded  the  keys  of  the 
castle  from  the  porter.  He  entered  the  hall,  and 
posted  his  servants  to  guard  all  the  doors.  Wol- 
sey,  in  ignorance  of  what  was  in  store  for  him,  met 
Northumberland  and  offered  him  hospitality,  ex- 
pressing his  delight  at  the  unexpected  visit.  When 
they  were  alone  the  Earl,  i c  trembling,  said,  with  a 
very  faint  and  soft  voice,  unto  my  lord,  laying  his 
hand  upon  his  arm,  c  My  lord,  I  arrest  you  of  high 
treason.'  :  For  a  time  Wolsey  stood  speechless 
with  astonishment,  then  he  asked  to  see  the  war- 
rant, which  Northumberland  had  not  brought  with 
him.  As  he  was  speaking  Sir  Walter  Walshe  opened 
the  door  and  thrust  into  the  room  the  physician 
Agostino,  whom  he  had  made  prisoner.  Wolsey 
asked  him  about  the  warrant,  and  when  he  recog- 
nized him  as  one  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  king's 
privy  chamber,  he  submitted  to  the  royal  com- 
mands without  asking  further  for  the  production  of 
the  warrant.  Then  he  delivered  up  his  keys  to 
Northumberland. 

Agostino  was  at  once  sent  to  London  tied  under 
a  horse's  belly — a  mode  of  conveyance  which  was 
doubtless  calculated  to  refresh  his  memory.  When 
he  arrived  in  London  he  was  taken  to  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk's  house,  and  showed  himself  ready  to  bear 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  303 

witness  against  Wolsey.  "  Since  they  have  had 
the  cardinal's  physician  in  their  hands,"  writes  the 
imperial  envoy,  <  <  they  have  found  what  they 
sought.  Since  he  has  been  here  he  has  lived  in  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk's  house  like  a  prince,  and  is  sing- 
ing the  tune  they  wished. ' ' 

There  was  not  the  same  need  of  haste  in  bringing 
Wolsey  to  London,  for  even  with  Agostino's  help 
Norfolk  was  doubtful  if  the  evidence  against  Wol- 
sey would  be  sufficient  to  ensure  his  condemnation 
to  death ;  and  he  did  not  wish  to  give  Wolsey  the 
opportunity  of  a  trial  when  he  might  still  be  for- 
midable. His  imprisonment  in  the  Tower  at  the 
royal  pleasure  would  only  bring  him  nearer  to  the 
king,  who  might  at  any  moment  make  use  of  him 
as  he  threatened.  Really,  Norfolk  was  somewhat 
embarrassed  at  the  success  of  his  scheme;  and  Wol- 
sey, in  a  conversation  with  Cavendish,  showed  a 
flash  of  his  old  greatness.  "  If  I  may  come  to  my 
answer,"  he  said,  "I  fear  no  man  alive;  for  he 
liveth  not  upon  the  earth  that  shall  look  upon  this 
face  and  shall  be  able  to  accuse  me  of  any  untruth ; 
and  that  know  my  enemies  full  well,  which  will  be 
an  occasion  that  I  shall  not  have  indifferent  justice, 
but  they  will  rather  seek  some  other  sinister  way  to 
destroy  me." 


304:  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

It  was  this  thought  that  unnerved  "Wolsey,  worn 
out  as  he  was  by  disappointment,  humiliated  by  his 
helplessness,  and  harassed  by  a  sense  of  relentless 
persecution.  Still  he  retained  his  dignity  and  kind- 
liness, and  when  on  the  evening  of  7th  November  he 
was  told  to  prepare  for  his  journey,  he  insisted  upon 
bidding  farewell  to  his  household.  The  Earl  of 
Northumberland  wished  to  prevent  this,  and  only 
gave  way  through  fear  of  a  tumult  if  he  persisted  in 
his  refusal.  The  servants  knelt  weeping  before  Wol- 
sey,  who  "  gave  them  comfortable  words  and  worthy 
praises  for  their  diligent  faithfulness  and  honest 
truth  towards  him,  assuring  them  that  what  chance 
soever  should  happen  unto  him,  that  he  was  a  true 
man  and  just  to  his  sovereign  lord. "  Then  shaking 
each  of  them  by  the  hand  he  departed. 

Outside  the  gate  the  country  folk  had  assembled 
to  the  number  of  three  thousand,  who  cried,  < '  God 
save  your  grace.  The  foul  evil  take  all  them  that 
hath  thus  taken  you  from  us ;  we  pray  God  that  a 
very  vengeance  may  light  upon  them."  Thus  they 
ran  crying  after  him  through  the  town  of  Cawood, 
they  loved  him  so  well.  After  this  moving  fare- 
well Wolsey  rode  through  the  gathering  darkness 
to  Pomfret,  where  he  was  lodged  in  the  abbey. 
Thence  he  proceeded  through  Doncaster  to  Sheffield 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  305 

Park,  where  he  was  kindly  received  by  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  whose  guest  he  was  for  eighteen  days. 
Once  a  clay  the  earl  visited  him  and  tried  to  com- 
fort him,  but  Wolsey  refused  all  human  comfort  and 
applied  himself  diligently  to  prayer.  While  he  was 
at  Sheffield  Park  his  health,  which  never  had  been 
good,  began  to  give  way,  and  he  suffered  from  dys- 
entery, which  was  aggravated  by  an  unskilful 
apothecary. 

As  he  was  thus  ailing  there  arrived  Sir  William 
Kingston,  Constable  of  the  Tower,  with  a  guard  of 
twenty -four  soldiers ;  he  had  received  a  commission 
from  the  king  to  bring  Wolsey  as  a  prisoner  to  the 
Tower.  It  would  seem  from  this  that  Agostino's 
confessions  had  been  skilfully  raised  to  fan  the 
royal  wrath,  and  Henry  gave  this  sign  that  he  was 
prepared  to  treat  his  former  minister  as  a  traitor. 
The  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  did  his  best  to  treat  the 
coming  of  Kingston  as  a  trivial  incident,  and  sent 
Cavendish  to  break  the  news  gently  to  his  master. 
Cavendish  gave  the  message  as  he  was  bidden. 
"  Forsooth  my  lord  of  Shrewsbury,  perceiving  by 
your  often  communication  that  ye  were  always  de- 
sirous to  come  before  the  king's  Majesty,  and  now 
as  your  assured  friend,  hath  travailed  so  with  his 

letters  unto  the  king,  that  the  king  hath  sent  for 
20 


306  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

you  by  Master  Kingston  and  twenty-four  of  the 
guard  to  conduct  you  to  his  Highness."  Wolsey 
was  not  deceived.  " Master  Kingston,"  he  re- 
peated, and  smote  his  thigh.  When  Cavendish 
made  a  further  attempt  to  cheer  him  he  cut  him 
short  by  saying,  c ;  I  perceive  more  than  you  can  im- 
agine or  can  knoAV.  Experience  hath  taught  me. ' ' 
"When  Kingston  was  introduced  and  knelt  before 
him,  Wolsey  said,  '  <  I  pray  you  stand  up,  and  leave 
your  kneeling  unto  a  very  wretch  replete  with  mis- 
ery, not  worthy  to  be  esteemed,  but  for  a  vile  ob- 
ject utterly  cast  away,  without  desert ;  and  there- 
fore, good  Master  Kingston,  stand  up,  or  I  will  my- 
self kneel  down  by  you. ' '  After  some  talk  Wolsey 
thanked  Kingston  for  his  kind  words.  "  Assure 
yourself  that  if  I  were  as  able  and  as  lusty  as  I  have 
been  but  of  late,  I  would  not  fail  to  ride  with  you 
in  post.  But  all  these  comfortable  words  which  ye 
have  spoken  be  but  for  a  purpose  to  bring  me  to  a 
fool's  paradise;  I  know  what  is  provided  for  me." 
With  a -mind  thus  agitated  the  sufferings  of  the 
body  increased.  When  Wolsey  took  his  journey 
next  day  all  regarded  him  as  a  dying  man.  The 
soldiers  of  the  guard,  ( c  as  soon  as  they  espied  their 
old  master  in  such  a  lamentable  estate,  lamented  him 
with  weeping  eyes.  Whom  my  lord  took  by  the 


1    3 

si 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  307 

hands,  and  divers  times  by  the  way  as  he  rode  he 
would  talk  with  them,  sometime  with  one  and  some- 
time with  another. ' '  That  night  he  reached  Hard- 
wick  Hall,  in  Notts,  a  house  of  the  Earl  of  Shrews- 
bury, and  the  next  day  rode  to  Nottingham.  On  the 
way  from  thence  to  Leicester  he  was  so  feeble  that  he 
could  scarcely  sit  upon  his  mule.  It  was  dark  on 
Saturday  night  when  he  reached  Leicester  Abbey, 
where  the  abbot  greeted  him  by  torchlight. 
* '  Father  Abbot, ' '  he  said,  '  '  I  am  come  hither  to 
leave  my  bones  among  you."  Kingston  had  to 
carry  him  upstairs  to  his  bed,  which  he  never 
quitted  again. 

All  Sunday  his  malady  increased,  and  on  Monday 
morning  Cavendish,  as  he  watched  his  face,  thought 
him  drawing  fast  to  his  end.  ' i  He  perceiving  my 
shadow  upon  the  wall  by  his  bedside  asked  who 
was  there.  'Sir,  I  am  here,'  quoth  I.  'What  is 
it  of  the  clock?'  said  he.  'Forsooth,  sir,'  said 
I,  '  it  is  past  eight  of  the  clock  in  the  morning. ' — 
'  Eight  of  the  clock,  eight  of  the  clock,'  said  he,  re- 
hearsing divers  times.  '  Nay,  nay,  it  cannot  be  eight 
of  the  clock ;  for  by  eight  of  the  clock  ye  shall  lose 
your  master,  for  my  tune  draweth  near  that  I  must 
depart  out  of  this  world. ' 

But  the  dying  man  was  not  to  depart  without  a 


308  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

reminder  of  the  pitiless  character  of  the  master 
whom  he  had  served  so  well.  When  Wolsey  left 
Cawood  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  remained  be- 
hind to  examine  his  papers ;  amongst  them  he  found 
a  record  that  Wolsey  had  in  his  possession  £1500, 
but  he  reported  to  the  king  that  he  could  not  find 
the  money.  Such  was  Henry's  keenness  as  his  own 
minister  of  finance  that  he  could  not  await  Wolsey 's 
arrival  in  London,  but  wrote  off  instantly  to  King- 
ston, bidding  him  examine  Wolsey  how  he  came  by 
the  money,  and  discover  where  it  was.  In  obedi- 
ence to  the  royal  command  Kingston  reluctantly 
visited  the  dying  man,  who  told  him  that  he  had 
borrowed  the  money  of  divers  friends  and  depen- 
dants whom  he  did  not  wish  to  see  defrauded ;  the 
money  was  in  the  keeping  of  an  honest  man,  and 
he  asked  for  a  little  time  before  disclosing  where  it 
was. 

In  the  night  he  often  swooned,  but  rallied  in  the 
morning  and  asked  for  food.  Some  chicken  broth 
was  brought  him,  but  he  remembered  that  it  was  a 
fast-day,  being  St.  Andrew's  Eve.  "  What  though 
it  be,"  said  his  confessor,  "ye  be  excused  by  rea- 
son of  your  sickness." — "  Yea,"  said  he,  "what 
though  ?  I  will  eat  no  more. ' '  After  this  he  made 
his  confession,  and  about  seven  in  the  morning 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  309 

Kingston  entered  to  ask  further  about  the  money. 
But  seeing  how  ill  Wolsey  was,  Kingston  tried  to 
comfort  him.  "  "Well,  well,"  said  Wolsey,  "I 
see  the  matter  against  me  how  it  is  framed,  but  if 
I  had  served  God  so  diligently  as  I  have  done  the 
king,  he  would  not  have  given  me  over  in  my  gray 
hairs.  Howbeit,  this  is  the  just  reward  that  I  must 
receive  for  my  worldly  diligence  and  pains  that  I 
had  to  do  him  service,  only  to  satisfy  his  vain  pleas- 
ure, not  regarding  my  godly  duty.  Wherefore,  I 
pray  you,  with  all  my  heart,  to  have  me  most  hum- 
bly commended  unto  his  royal  Majesty,  beseeching 
him  in  my  behalf  to  call  to  his  most  gracious  re- 
membrance all  matters  proceeding  between  him  and 
me  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  unto  this  day, 
and  the  progress  of  the  same,  and  most  chiefly  in 
the  weighty  matter  now  depending  (i.e.  the  divorce) ; 
then  shall  his  conscience  declare  whether  I  have 
oifended  him  or  no.  He  is  sure  a  prince  of  a  royal 
courage,  and  hath  a  princely  heart ;  and  rather  than 
he  will  either  miss  or  want  any  part  of  his  will  or 
appetite  he  will  put  the  loss  of  one-half  of  his  realm 
in  danger.  For  I  assure  you  I  have  often  kneeled 
before  him  in  his  privy  chamber  on  my  knees  the 
space  of  an  hour  or  two,  to  persuade  him  from  his 
will  and  appetite ;  but  I  could  never  bring  to  pass 


310  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

to  dissuade  him  therefrom.  Therefore,  Master 
Kingston,  if  it  chance  hereafter  you  to  be  one  of  his 
Privy  Council,  as  for  your  wisdom  and  other  qual- 
ities ye  are  meet  to  be,  I  warn  you  to  be  well  ad- 
vised and  assured  what  matter  ye  put  in  his  head, 
for  ye  shall  never  put  it  out  again. ' '  He  went  on 
to  bid  him  warn  the  king  against  the  spread  of  the 
pernicious  sect  of  Lutherans  as  harmful  to  the  royal 
authority  and  destructive  of  the  order  of  the  realm. 
Then  as  his  tongue  failed  him  he  gasped  out, 
"  Master  Kingston,  farewell.  I  can  no  more,  but 
wish  all  things  to  have  good  success.  My  time 
draweth  on  fast.  I  may  not  tarry  with  you.  And 
forget  not,  I  pray  you,  what  I  have  said  and 
charged  you  withal,  for  when  I  am  dead  ye  shall 
perad venture  remember  my  words  much  better." 
His  breath  failed  him  and  his  eyes  grew  fixed.  The 
abbot  came  to  administer  supreme  unction,  and  as 
the  clock  struck  eight  Wolsey  passed  away.  "  And 
calling  to  our  remembrance  his  words  the  day  be- 
fore, how  he  said  that  at  eight  of  the  clock  we 
should  lose  our  master,  one  of  us  looked  upon  an- 
other supposing  that  he  prophesied  of  his  depart- 
ure. ' ' 

Kingston  sent  a  message  to  tell  the  king  of  Wol- 
sey's  death,  and  hastened  the  preparations  for  his 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  3H 

funeral.  His  body  was  placed  in  a  coffin  of  boards, 
vested  in  his  archiepiscopal  robes,  with  his  mitre, 
cross,  and  ring.  It  lay  in  state  till  five  in  the  after- 
noon, when  it  was  carried  into  the  church  and  was 
placed  in  the  Lady  Chapel,  where  it  was  watched 
all  night.  At  four  in  the  morning  mass  was  sung, 
and  by  six  the  grave  had  closed  over  the  remains  of 
"Wolsey. 

It  would  be  consoling  to  think  that  a  pang  of 
genuine  sorrow  was  felt  by  Henry  VIII.  when  he 
heard  of  the  death  of  Wolsey ;  but  unfortunately 
there  is  no  ground  for  thinking  so,  and  all  that  is 
on  record  shows  us  that  Henry's  chief  care  still  was 
to  get  hold  of  the  £1500,  which  was  all  that  re- 
mained of  "Wolsey 's  fortune.  Cavendish  was  taken 
by  Kingston  to  Hampton  Court,  where  he  was  sum- 
moned to  the  king,  who  was  engaged  in  archery  in 
the  park.  As  Cavendish  stood  against  a  tree  sadly 
musing  Henry  suddenly  came  behind  him  and 
slapped  him  on  the  back,  saying,  "  I  will  make  an 
end  of  my  game,  and  then  I  will  talk  with  you." 
Soon  he  finished  his  game  and  went  into  the  garden, 
but  kept  Cavendish  waiting  for  some  time  outside. 
The  interview  lasted  more  than  an  hour, ."  during 
which  time  he  examined  me  of  divers  matters  con- 
cerning my  lord,  wishing  that  liever  than  twenty 


312  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

thousand  pounds  that  he  had  lived.  Then  he  asked 
me  for  the  fifteen  hundred  pounds  which  Master 
Kingston  moved  to  my  lord  before  his  death." 
Cavendish  told  him  what  he  knew  about  it,  and 
said  that  it  was  deposited  with  a  certain  priest. 
"Well,  then,"  said  the  king,  "  let  me  alone,  and 
keep  this  gear  secret  between  yourself  and  me,  and 
let  no  man  be  privy  thereof ;  for  if  I  hear  more  of 
it,  then  I  know  by  whom  it  is  come  to  knowledge. 
Three  may  keep  counsel  if  two  be  away ;  and  if  I 
thought  that  my  cap  knew  my  counsel  I  would  cast 
it  into  the  fire  and  burn  it."  Henry  spoke  freely, 
and  these  words  disclose  the  secret  of  his  strength. 
Every  politician  has  a  method  of  his  own  by  which 
he  hides  his  real  character  and  assumes  a  personality 
which  is  best  fitted  for  his  designs.  Henry  VIII. 
beneath  an  air  of  frankness  and  geniality  concealed 
a  jealous  and  watchful  temperament,  full  of  crafty 
designs  for  immediate  gain,  resolute,  avaricious, 
and  profoundly  self-seeking. 

As  we  have  been  so  much  indebted  to  Cavendish 
for  an  account  of  Wolsey's  private  life,  especially 
in  his  last  days,  it  is  worth  while  to  follow  Caven- 
dish's fortunes.  The  king  promised  to  take  him 
into  his  own  service,  and  to  pay  him  his  wages  for 
the  last  year,  amounting  to  £10.  He  bade  him  ask 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  313 

it  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk.  As  he  left  the  king  he 
met  Kingston  coming  from  the  Council,  whither 
Cavendish  also  was  summoned.  Kingston  implored 
him  to  take  heed  what  he  said.  The  Council  would 
examine  him  about  Wolsey's  last  words;  uand  if 
you  tell  them  the  truth  you  shall  undo  yourself. ' ' 
He  had  denied  that  he  heard  anything,  and 
warned  Cavendish  to  do  the  same.  So  Cavendish 
answered  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  that  he  was  so  busied 
in  waiting  on  Wolsey  that  he  paid  little  heed  to 
what  he  said.  < '  He  spoke  many  idle  words,  as 
men  in  such  extremities  do,  the  which  I  cannot 
now  remember."  He  referred  them  to  Kingston's 
more  accurate  memory.  It  is  a  dismal  picture  of 
Court  life  which  is  here  presented  to  us.  On  every 
side  was  intrigue,  suspicion,  and  deceit.  Wolsey's 
last  words  were  consigned  to  oblivion;  for  the 
frankness  that  was  begotten  of  a  retrospect  in  one 
who  had  nothing  more  to  hope  or  fear  was  danger- 
ous in  a  place  whence  truth  was  banished. 

"When  the  Council  was  over  Norfolk  talked  with 
Cavendish  about  his  future.  Cavendish  had  seen 
enough  of  public  life,  and  had  no  heart  to  face  its 
dangers.  The  figure  of  Wolsey  rose  before  his  eyes, 
and  he  preferred  to  carry  away  into  solitude  his 
memories  of  the  vanity  of  man's  ambition.  His 


314  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

only  request  was  for  a  cart  and  a  horse  to  carry 
away  his  own  goods,  which  had  been  brought  with 
Wolsey's  to  the  Tower.  The  king  was  gracious, 
and  allowed  him  to  choose  six  cart-horses  and  a  cart 
from  Wolsey's  stable.  He  gave  him  five  marks  for 
his  expenses,  paid  him  £10  for  arrears  of  wages, 
and  added  £20  as  a  reward.  "  I  received  all  these 
things  accordingly,  and  then  I  returned  into  my 
country. ' ' 

It  says  much  for  Wolsey  that  he  chose  as  his  per- 
sonal attendant  a  man  of  the  sweet,  sensitive,  retir- 
ing type  of  George  Cavendish,  though  it  was  not  till 
after  his  fall  from  power  that  he  learned  the  value 
of  such  a  friend.  No  less  significant  of  the  times  is 
the  profound  impression  which  Wolsey's  fate  ex- 
cited on  the  mind  of  Cavendish,  who  in  the  retire- 
ment of  his  own  county  of  Suffolk  lived  with  in- 
creasing sadness  through  the  changes  which  befell 
England  and  destroyed  many  of  the  memories  which 
were  dearest  to  his  heart.  No  one  then  cared  to 
hear  about  Wolsey,  nor  was  it  safe  to  recall  the 
thought  of  the  great  Cardinal  of  England  to  the 
minds  of  men  who  were  busied  in  undoing  his  work. 
Not  till  the  days  of  Mary  did  Cavendish  gather  to- 
gether his  notes  and  sketch  the  fortunes  of  one 
whose  figure  loomed  forth  from  a  distant  past,  mel- 


THE  FALL  OF  WOLSEY.  315 

lowed  by  the  mists  of  time,  and  hallowed  by  the 
pious  resignation  which  was  the  only  comfort  that 
reflection  could  give  to  the  helpless  recluse.  The 
calm  of  a  poetic  sadness  is  expressed  in  the  pages  of 
Cavendish's  Memoir.  Wolsey  has  become  to  him 
a  type  of  the  vanity  of  human  endeavor,  and  points 
the  moral  of  the  superiority  of  a  quiet  life  with  God 
over  the  manifold  activities  of  an  aspiring  ambition. 
But  Cavendish  did  not  live  to  see  the  time  when 
such  a  sermon,  preached  on  such  a  text,  was  likely 
to  appeal  to  many  hearers.  His  work  remained  in 
manuscript,  of  which  copies  circulated  amongst  a 
few.  One  such  copy,  it  is  clear,  must  have  reached 
the  hands  of  Shakespeare,  who,  with  his  usual  quick- 
ness of  perception,  condensed  as  much  as  his  public 
could  understand  into  his  portrait  of  Wolsey  in  the 
play  of  Henry  VIII.  "When  the  Memoir  was  first 
printed  in  1641  it  was  garbled  for  party  purposes. 
The  figure  of  Wolsey  was  long  left  to  the  portrai- 
ture of  prejudice,  and  he  was  regarded  only  as  the 
type  of  the  arrogant  ecclesiastic  whom  it  was  the 
great  work  of  the  Kef  ormation  to  have  rendered  im- 
possible in  the  future.  "Wolsey,  the  most  patriotic 
of  Englishmen,  was  branded  as  the  minion  of  the 
Pope,  and  the  upholder  of  a  foreign  despotism. 
When  Fiddes,  in  1724,  attempted,  on  the  strength 


316  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

of  documents,  to  restore  Wolsey  to  his  due  position 
amongst  England's  worthies,  he  was  accused  of 
Popery.  Not  till  the  mass  of  documents  relating  to 
the  reign  of  Henry  YIII.  was  published  did  it  be- 
come possible  for  Dr.  Brewer  *  to  show  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  schemes  of  the  great  cardinal,  and  to 
estimate  his  merits  and  his  faults. 

*  John  Sherren  Brewer  (1810-1879)  was  educated  at  Ox- 
ford, where  he  was  famous  for  the  wide  range  of  his  reading. 
After  various  employments,  which  included  tutoring,  a 
chaplaincy,  and  work  in  the  British  Museum,  he  was  in  1839 
appointed  lecturer  in  classical  literature  at  King's  College, 
London,  and  in  1855  he  succeeded  his  friend  F.  D.  Maurice 
as  professor  of  the  English  language  and  literature  and 
lecturer  in  modern  history,  in  the  same  institution.  In  1865 
he  was  commissioned  to  prepare  a  calendar  of  the  state  papers 
of  Henry  VIII.,  a  work  of  great  labor  and  for  which  he  had 
peculiar  fitness.  In  this  work  he  continued  till  the  day  of 
his  death.  To  him  therefore  England  is  largely  indebted  for 
general  and  accurate  information  upon  the  events  of  that 
period. 


CHAPTEK  XI. 

THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY. 

"  Ko  statesman  of  such  eminence  ever  died  less 
lamented,"  is  Dr.  Brewer's  remark  on  Wolsey's 
death.  Indeed,  the  king  had  forgotten  his  old  ser- 
vant; his  enemies  rejoiced  to  be  rid  of  a  possible 
rival;  the  men  whom  he  had  trained  in  politics 
were  busy  in  seeking  their  own  advancement,  which 
was  not  to  be  promoted  by  tears  for  a  fallen  minis- 
ter ;  the  people  had  never  loved  him,  and  were  in- 
different about  one  who  was  no  longer  powerful. 
In  a  time  of  universal  uncertainty  every  one  was 
speculating  on  the  future,  and  saw  that  the  future 
was  not  to  be  determined  by  Wolsey  or  by  Wolsey 's 
ideas.  ]STot  without  reason  has  the  story  of  Wolsey's 
fall  passed  into  a  parable  of  the  heartlessness  of  the 
world. 

For  Wolsey  lived  for  the  world  as  few  men  have 
ever  done ;  not  for  the  larger  world  of  intellectual 
thought  or  spiritual  aspiration,  but  for  the  actual, 

immediate  world  of  affairs.     He  limited  himself  to 

317 


318  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

its  problems,  but  within  its  limits  he  took  a  wider 
and  juster  view  of  the  problems  of  his  time  than 
any  English  statesman  has  ever  done.  For  politics 
in  the  largest  sense,  comprising  all  the  relations  of 
the  nation  at  home  and  abroad,  Wolsey  had  a  capac- 
ity which  amounted  to  genius,  and  it  is  doubtful  if 
this  can  be  said  of  any  other  Englishman.  There 
have  been  many  capable  administrators,  many  ex- 
cellent organizers,  many  who  bravely  faced  the  diffi- 
culties of  their  time,  many  who  advocated  particu- 
lar reforms  and  achieved  definite  results.  But  "Wol- 
sey aimed  at  doing  all  these  things  together  and 
more.  Taking  England  as  he  found  her,  he  aimed 
at  developing  all  her  latent  possibilities,  and  leading 
Europe  to  follow  in  her  train.  In  this  project  there 
was  nothing  chimerical  or  fantastic,  for  Wolsey 's 
mind  was  eminently  practical.  Starting  from  the 
existing  condition  of  affairs,  he  made  England  for  a 
time  the  center  of  European  politics,  and  gave  her 
an  influence  far  higher  than  she  could  claim  on  ma- 
terial grounds.  Moreover,  his  far-reaching  schemes 
abroad  did  not  interfere  with  strict  attention  to  the 
details  of  England's  interests.  His  foreign  policy 
was  to  promote  English  trade,  facilitate  the  union  of 
Scotland,  keep  peace  at  small  expense,  prepare  the 
way  for  internal  re-organization,  and  secure  the  right 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY.  319 

of  dealing  judiciously  with  ecclesiastical  reform. 
Wolsey's  plans  all  hung  together.  However  ab- 
sorbed he  might  be  in  a  particular  point  it  was  only 
part  of  a  great  design,  and  he  used  each  advantage 
which  he  gained  as  a  means  of  strengthening  Eng- 
land's position  for  some  future  undertaking.  He 
had  a  clear  view  of  the  future  as  a  whole ;  he  knew 
not  only  what  he  wished  to  make  of  England  but  of 
Europe  as  well.  He  never  worked  at  a  question 
from  one  motive  only ;  what  failed  for  one  purpose 
was  made  useful  for  another ;  his  resources  were  not 
bounded  by  the  immediate  result. 

Politics  to  him  was  not  a  pursuit,  it  was  a  pas- 
sion. He  loved  it  as  an  artist  loves  his  art,  for  he 
found  in  it  a  complete  satisfaction  for  his  nature. 
All  that  was  best,  and  all  that  was  worst,  in  Wolsey 
sprang  from  this  exceptional  attitude  towards  state- 
craft, which  he  practised  with  enthusiasm,  not  in 
the  spirit  of  cold  calculation.  The  world  is  accus- 
tomed to  statesmen  who  clothe  the  results  of  calcu- 
lation in  the  language  of  enthusiasm;  Wolsey's 
language  was  practical  and  direct,  his  passionate  as- 
pirations were  restrained  within  his  own  bosom. 

Thus  there  is  a  largeness  and  distinction  about 
Wolsey's  aims,  a  far-reaching  patriotism,  and  an 
admirable  lucidity.  He  was  indeed  a  political  artist, 


320  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

who  worked  with  a  free  hand  and  a  certain  touch. 
He  was  absorbed  in  his  art  as  a  painter  over  his 
picture,  and  he  did  not  shrink  as  the  full  size  of  his 
canvas  was  gradually  unrolled.  He  set  himself  to 
dominate  Europe,  and  was  fearless  and  self-con- 
tained. He  gave  himself  entirely  to  his  work,  and 
in  his  eyes  the  nobility  of  his  end  justified  any 
means.  But  he  was  sensitive,  as  all  artists  are, 
and  could  not  work  under  cramped  conditions. 
When  he  was  restricted  to  the  small  matter  of  the 
divorce  his  hand  lost  its  cunning.  He  was,  though 
he  knew  it  not,  fitted  to  serve  England,  but  not 
fitted  to  serve  the  English  king.  He  had  the  aims 
of  a  national  statesman,  not  of  a  royal  servant. 

Wolsey's  misfortune  was  that  his  lot  was  cast 
on  days  when  the  career  of  a  statesman  was  not 
distinct  from  that  of  a  royal  servant.  He  owed 
his  introduction  to  politics  solely  to  royal  favor,  and 
neither  had  nor  could  obtain  any  other  warrant  for 
his  position.  For  good  or  evil  England  was  identi- 
fied with  her  king,  and  it  was  long  before  it  could  be 
otherwise.  Certainly  Wolsey  had  no  wish  that  it 
should  be  otherwise,  and  his  subservience  to  the 
royal  will  seems  to  us  to  be  unworthy  of  his  great- 
ness. But  Wolsey  associated  his  political  life  with 
the  king's  goodwill,  and  Henry  was  to  him  a  sym- 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY.  321 

bol  of  all  that  was  best  and  most  intelligent  in  Eng- 
land. His  deviations  from  his  own  policy  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  king  were  not  more  degrading  or  more 
inevitable  than  are  the  calculations  of  the  modern 
statesman  about  the  exact  limits  of  the  field  of  prac- 
tical politics.  A  statesman  has  not  only  to  form 
projects,  he  has  to  secure  a  force  behind  him  which 
will  enable  him  to  give  them  effect.  Each  age 
recognizes  this  fact,  and  acts  accordingly.  There 
is  nothing  more  intrinsically  base  in  Wolsey's  sub- 
servience to  the  royal  will  than  in  the  efforts  of 
modern  statesmen  to  bid  against  one  another  for 
an  opportunity  of  carrying  out  what  they  think  to 
be  the  will  of  the  people.  ~No  politician  has  a 
complete  command  of  his  field  of  action;  his 
high-mindedness  and  purity  must  be  tested  by  the 
degree  of  compromise  which  consciously  or  uncon- 
sciously he  makes  between  his  love  of  power  and 
his  knowledge  or  his  conscience.  The  utmost  that 
can  be  demanded  of  him  is  that  he  should  not,  to 
keep  his  place,  deliberately  act  contrary  to  what  he 
believes  to  be  wise  or  knows  to  be  right. 

In  his  general  conduct  of  politics  Wolsey  was  true 
to  his  principles,  and  though  occasionally  thwarted, 
he  still  pursued  the  same  ends.  The  matter  of  the 
divorce  was  sprung  upon  him,  and  it  would  have 


21 


322  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

been  well  for  Wolsey's  fame  if  he  had  retired  rather 
than  involve  himself  in  the  unworthy  proceedings  to 
which  it  led.  But  the  temptation  to  all  men  to 
think  themselves  necessery  in  the  sphere  which  they 
have  made  their  own  is  a  subtle  one ;  and  those  who 
begin  by  hoping  that  they  may  minimize  inevitable 
mischief,  end  by  being  dragged  into  the  mire.  To 
a  statesman  this  temptation  is  great  in  proportion  to 
the  largeness  of  his  ultimate  aim.  He  resents  that 
his  schemes  should  be  ruined  by  a  temporary  de- 
rangement of  the  perspective  of  affairs ;  he  believes 
that  his  practised  hand  can  easily  solve  a  trumpery 
difficulty;  the  excellence  of  his  intentions  in  the 
long-run  justifies  an  occasional  sacrifice  on  the 
shrine  of  present  necessity.  If  he  does  some  things 
amiss,  after  all  he  is  not  responsible  for  them ;  they 
are  disagreeable  incidents  in  his  tenure  of  office. 

So  Wolsey  regarded  the  divorce ;  and  he  is  not 
greatly  to  be  blamed  for  agreeing  to  promote  it. 
He  saw  great  national  advantages  in  a  divorce ;  he 
knew  that  it  would  be  well  for  England  if  Henry 
VIII.  left  male  issue ;  he  did  not  like  the  political 
influence  of  Katharine ;  he  saw  that  Henry  was  not 
likely  to  be  happy  in  her  society.  It  would  have 
been  difficult  for  him  to  find  in  the  proposal  itself  a 
sufficient  reason  for  withdrawing  from  politics  even 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY.  323 

if  he  could  have  done  so  with  safety.  Not  even 
Wolsey  could  foresee  the  king's  obstinacy  and  tenac- 
ity of  purpose,  the  depth  of  meanness  to  which  he 
would  sink,  and  to  which  he  would  drag  all  around 
him.  Wolsey  found  himself  powerless  to  resist,  and 
the  growing  consciousness  of  moral  turpitude 
practised  to  no  purpose  degraded  him  in  his  own 
eyes  and  robbed  him  of  his  strength.  When  once 
the  divorce  question  was  started  Wolsey  was  pushed 
on  to  his  ruin  by  a  power  of  imperious  wickedness 
which  debased  others  without  losing  its  own  self- 
respect.  The  dictates  of  public  opinion  are,  after 
all,  not  so  very  different  from  the  commands  of  an 
absolute  king.  Both  may  destroy  their  victims, 
and  go  on  their  own  way  with  heads  erect. 

So  when  we  speak  of  the  fall  of  Wolsey  we  mean 
more  than  his  irrevocable  loss  of  power.  He  had 
lost  his  inner  strength,  and  no  longer  kept  his  hold 
upon  affairs.  He  knew  that  he  was  sullied  and  un- 
nerved; that  he  had  sunk  from  the  position  of  a 
leader  to  that  of  one  who  tremblingly  follows  and 
devises  shifty  plans  that  he  may  still  exercise  the 
semblance  of  his  old  authority.  He  knew  that  in 
his  negotiations  about  the  divorce  he  staked  every- 
thing that  he  had  gained,  and  that  the  result,  what- 
ever it  was,  would  be  disastrous  to  his  great  designs. 


LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

If  he  had  succeeded  he  would  have  degraded  the 
Papacy;  and  when  Henry  had  once  learned  how 
easy  it  was  for  him  to  get  his  own  way,  he  would 
have  used  his  knowledge  to  the  full,  and  Wolsey 
would  have  been  powerless  to  direct  him.     When 
"Wolsey  became  the  instrument  of  the  king's  self- 
will,  he  hoped  that  a  few  disappointments  would 
wear  out  his  obstinacy ;  when  he  saw  Henry's  grow- 
ing resoluteness  and  complete  self-will  he  knew  that 
for  himself  the  future  was  hopeless.     Still  he  had 
not  the  magnanimity  to  resign  himself  to  his  disap- 
pointment.    He  clung  to  power  when  power  had 
ceased   to   be  useful  for  his  plans.     He   clung   to 
power,  because  the  habits  of  office  had  become  to 
him  a  second  nature.      He   vainly  strove  to   find 
satisfaction  in  the  discharge  of  his  episcopal  duties ; 
he  vainly  tried  to  content  himself  with  the  simple 
affairs  of  simple  men.     He  had  given  himself  en- 
tirely to  the  material  world,  and  had  estranged  him- 
self from  the  spiritual  world,  which  was  to  him  thin 
and  unsubstantial  to  the  last.     He  could  not  refrain 
from  casting  longing  glances  behind  him,  and  his 
last  days  are  pitiable.     The  words  of  the  dying  man 
are  often  quoted  as  showing  the  misery  of  those  who 
trust  in  princes'  favor.     But  they  are  not  merely  an 
echo  of  a  far-off  state  of  things  which  has  passed  by 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY.  325 

forever.  "To  serve  one's  country"  may  have  a 
loftier  and  more  noble  sound  than  "to  serve  one's 
king, '  -  but  the  meaning  is  not  necessarily  different. 
The  thought  in  Wolsey's  heart  was  this — "  If  I  had 
served  the  spiritual  interests  of  my  country  as  I  have 
striven  to  serve  its  material  interests  my  conscience 
would  be  more  at  rest."  For  Wolsey  was  a  true 
patriot,  and  had  noble  aims.  Much  as  he  might 
deaden  his  conscience,  he  did  not  extinguish  it ;  and 
his  last  judgment  of  himself  expressed  the  sad  con- 
viction that  neither  his  patriotism  nor  the  nobility 
of  his  aims  had  saved  him  from  actions  which  he 
could  not  justify,  and  which  his  conscience  loudly 
condemned. 

We  have  called  Wolsey  a  political  artist:  and 
this,  which  makes  his  career  attractive,  is  the  secret 
of  his  unpopularity.  Wolsey's  designs  did  not 
arise  from  the  pressure  of  absolute  necessity,  and 
their  meaning  was  not  apparent  to  his  contempo- 
raries. Englishmen  thought  then,  as  they  think 
now,  that  England  should  disregard  foreign  affairs 
and  develop  her  own  resources ;  or  if  foreign  affairs 
are  undertaken  they  demand  the  success  of  English 
arms,  and  claim  to  be  repaid  in  current  coin  or  pal- 
pable advantages.  Wolsey  believed  that  the  es- 
tablishment of  England's  power  on  the  Continent 


326  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

was  necessary  for  the  increase  of  English  trade,  and 
was  a  preliminary  for  the  wise  solution  of  those 
questions  which  were  most  urgent  in  domestic  poli- 
tics. He  was  the  last  English  statesman  of  the  old 
school,  which  regarded  England  not  as  a  separate 
nation,  but  as  an  integral  part  of  Western  Christen- 
dom. He  did  not  look  upon  questions  as  being 
solely  English  questions :  he  did  not  aim  merely  at 
reforming  English  monasteries  or  asserting  a  new 
position  for  the  English  Church.  But  he  thought 
that  England  was  ripe  for  practically  carrying  out 
reforms  which  had  long  been  talked  of,  and  remedy- 
ing abuses  which  had  long  been  lamented ;  and  he 
hoped  that  England  in  these  respects  would  serve 
as  a  model  to  the  rest  of  Europe.  Only  if  England 
was  in  full  accord  with  European  sentiment,  was 
powerful,  and  was  respected,  could  this  be  done. 
Wolsey  did  not  prefer  foreign  politics  on  their  own 
account,  but  he  found  them  to  be  the  necessary  pre- 
liminary for  any  lasting  work  on  the  lines  which 
he  contemplated.  As  regards  Church  matters  he 
was  strictly  practical.  He  had  no  belief  in  reform- 
ing councils,  or  pragmatic  sanctions,  or  Gallican 
liberties ;  he  cared  little  for  England's  weapon  of 
prcGmunire.  He  did  not  look  upon  the  Pope  as  a 
powerful  adversary  who  was  to  be  held  at  arm's 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY.  397 

length ;  he  regarded  him  as  a  man  to  be  managed 
and  converted  into  a  useful  ally.  Wolsey  was  en- 
tirely Erastian.  Power  was  to  him  the  important 
thing  in  human  affairs,  and  all  power  was  the  same ; 
he  believed  much  more  in  the  divine  right  of  Henry 
VIII.  than  in  the  divine  right  of  Clement  VII. 
merely  because  Henry's  power  seemed  to  him  prac- 
tically to  be  greater.  However  poetical  Wolsey 's 
main  ideas  might  be,  he  had  no  illusions  about  the 
actual  facts  of  politics. 

The  Englishmen  of  his  own  day  did  not  appre- 
ciate Wolsey's  aims,  and  supposed  that  his  foreign 
policy  was  for  the  gratification  of  his  own  vanity, 
or  was  the  result  of  a  desire  to  gain  the  Papacy. 
No  one  ^understood  him  in  his  own  time.  He  bore 
the  burden  of  everything  that  was  done,  and  all 
the  causes  of  popular  discontent  were  laid  at  his 
door.  If  the  loyalty  of  Wolsey  seems  strange  to 
our  eyes,  still  more  inexplicable  is  the  loyalty  of  the 
English  people,  who  could  believe  in  Henry's  good 
intentions,  and  could  suppose  that  he  was  entirely 
ruled  by  Wolsey  contrary  to  his  own  inclinations. 
Wolsey  was  universally  hated ;  by  the  nobles  as  an 
upstart,  by  the  people  as  a  tyrant,  by  Churchmen  as 
a  dangerous  reformer,  by  the  Lutherans  as  a  rank 
Papist,  While  he  was  in  power  he  kept  in  restraint 


328  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

various  elements  of  disorder ;  but  he  shared  the  fate 
of  those  who  rule  without  identifying  themselves 
with  any  party.  When  his  power  came  to  an  end 
no  minister  could  assume  his  place  or  pick  up  the 
threads  which  fell  from  his  hands.  It  was  left  to 
Henry  VIII.,  who  had  learned  more  from  Wolsey 
than  anyone  else,  to  direct  England's  fortunes  on  a 
lower  level  of  endeavor.  We  may  admire  his  clear 
head  and  his  strong  hand ;  we  may  even  prefer  the 
results  of  his  solution  to  those  which  Wolsey  would 
have  wrought;  but  we  must  confess  that  personal 
motives  held  the  chief  place  in  his  mind,  and  that 
considerations  of  the  common  weal  came  only  in 
the  second  place.  For  Henry  VIII.  abandoned 
Wolsey 's  idea  of  a  European  settlement  of  ecclesi- 
astical questions,  and  gradually  undertook  a  national 
settlement  on  lines  drawn  solely  with  reference  to 
his  own  desires  and  his  own  interest.  In  this 
simpler  matter  it  was  possible  for  him  to  enjoy  some 
measure  of  success,  and  this  was  chiefly  due  to  the 
preparation  which  Wolsey  had  made.  For  the  work 
of  a  statesmen  is  never  entirely  thrown  away ;  if 
his  own  plans  fail,  he  leaves  the  way  open  for 
others  who  may  use  his  means  for  widely  different 
ends. 

Wolsey    was  the  creator    of  the    forces  which 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY. 

worked  the  great  change  in  England  in  the  sixteenth 
century.  He  obtained  for  England  a  position  in 
the  esteem  of  Europe  which  he  had  meant  to  use 
for  the  direction  of  Europe  generally.  Henry  used 
that  position  for  the  assertion  of  England's  right  to 
settle  its  own  affairs  for  itself;  and  the  position 
proved  strong  enough  to  ward  off  foreign  interfer- 
ence, and  to  carry  England  safely  through  the  first 
period  of  a  dangerous  crisis.  It  was  because  Wol- 
sey  had  laid  a  sure  foundation  that  England  emerged 
from  her  separatist  policy,  isolated,  it  is  true,  but 
not  excluded  from  European  influence.  Again, 
Wolsey  exalted  the  royal  power,  because  he  be- 
lieved that  it  alone  could  rise  above  the  separate  in- 
terests of  classes,  and  could  give  a  large  expression 
to  the  national  weal.  Henry  profited  by  Wolsey 's 
labors  to  pursue  exclusively  his  own  interests,  yet  he 
learned  enough  to  interweave  them  dexterously  with 
some  national  interests  in  such  a  way  that  they  could 
not  practically  be  disentangled,  and  that  he  had  suf- 
ficient adherents  to  put  down  opposition  when  it 
arose.  Even  the  preliminary  steps  which  Wolsey 
had  taken  were  carefully  followed.  His  scheme  for 
the  gradual  conversion  of  monasteries  into  more 
useful  institutions  was  revived,  and  men  believed 
that  it  would  be  imitated :  the  very  agents  that  he 


330  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  WOLSEY. 

had  trained  for  the  work  of  turning  monasteries  into 
educational  establishments  were  employed  in  sweep- 
ing the  monastic  revenues  into  the  royal  coffers.  So 
it  was  with  all  other  things.  Henry  learned  Wol- 
sey's  methods,  and  popularized  Wolsey's  phrases. 
He  clothed  his  own  self-seeking  with  the  dignity  of 
Wolsey's  designs;  the  hands  were  the  hands  of 
Henry,  but  the  voice  was  an  echo  of  the  voice  of 
"Wolsey. 

The  new  England  that  was  created  in  the  sixteenth 
century  was  strangely  unlike  that  which  Wolsey  had 
dreamed  of ,  yet  none  the  less  it  was  animated  by 
his  spirit.  His  ideal  of  England,  influential  in 
Europe  through  the  mediatorial  policy  which  her 
insular  position  allowed  her  to  claim,  prosperous  at 
home  through  the  influence  which  she  obtained  by 
her  far-sighted  wisdom  and  disinterestedness — this 
is  Wolsey's  permanent  contribution  to  the  history 
of  English  politics.* 

*  The  estimate  of  the  character  and  work  of  Wolsey,  as 
given  in  this  chapter,  is  judicious.  Nevertheless  it  may 
interest  the  reader  to  com  pare  certain  other  comments,  which 
are  accordingly  added  here. 

Lingard  says:  "The  best  eulogy  on  his  character  is  to  be 
found  in  the  contrast  in  the  conduct  of  Henry  before  and 
after  the  cardinal's  fall.  As  long  as  Wolsey  continued  in 
favor,  the  royal  passions  were  confined  within  certain  bounds  ; 
the  moment  his  influence  was  extinguished,  they  burst 


THE  WORK  OF  WOLSEY.  331 

through  every  restraint  and  by  their  caprice  and  violence 
alarmed  his  subjects  and  astonished  the  other  nations  of 
Europe." 

J.  R.  Green,  on  the  other  hand,  after  quoting  Wolsey's 
words  ("And,  Master  Knyghton,  had  I  but  served  God  as 
diligently  as  I  have  served  the  king,  He  would  not  have 
given  me  over  in  my  grey  hairs.  But  this  is  my  due  re- 
ward for  my  pains  and  study,  not  regarding  my  service  to 
God,  but  only  my  duty  to  my  prince.")  Adds:  "No  words 
could  paint  with  so  terrible  a  truthfulness  the  spirit  of  the 
new  despotism  which  Wolsey  had  done  more  than  any  of 
those  who  went  before  him  to  build  up.  All  sense  of  loyalty 
to  England,  to  its  freedom,  to  its  institutions,  had  utterly 
passed  away.  The  one  duty  which  a  statesman  owed  was 
a  duty  to  his  "prince,"  a  prince  whose  personal  will  and 
appetite  was  overriding  the  highest  interests  of  the  State, 
trampling  under  foot  the  wisest  councils,  and  crushing  with 
the  blind  ingratitude  of  Fate  the  servants  who  opposed  him. 
But  even  Wolsey,  while  he  recoiled  from  the  monstrous  form 
which  had  revealed  itself,  could  hardly  have  dreamed  of  the 
work  of  destruction  which  the  royal  courage,  and  yet  more 
the  royal  appetite  of  his  masters  was  to  accomplish  in  the 
years  to  come." 

To  the  present  writer  it  seems  as  if  Wolsey  narrowly  missed 
being  one  of  the  greatest  men  in  all  the  history  of  England  ; 
but  that,  having  missed  that  high  possibility  ;  his  influence 
was  on  the  whole  pernicious  to  a  degree. 

The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them, 
The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones. 

So  was  it  with  Wolsey. 

THE   END. 


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Creighton,  Mandell,     Bp, 
of  London 

The  life  of  Cardinal 
Wolsey 


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