[790] The divers tempests pa.s.sed over. Ibid.

[791] Sine strepitu et figura judicii sententiam divortii judicialiter proferendam. Rymer, Fdera, vi, pars. ii, p. 95.

But one storm followed close upon another. Fox had not long quitted Orvieto when new letters arrived from Wolsey, demanding the fourth of the acts previously requested, namely, the _engagement_ to ratify at Rome whatever the commissioners might decide in England. Gardiner was to set about it _in season and out of season_; the verbal promise of the pope counted for nothing; this doc.u.ment must be had, whether the pope was ill, dying, or dead.[792] "_Ego et Rex meus_, his majesty and I command you;" said Wolsey; "this divorce is of more consequence to us than twenty popedoms."[793] The English envoy renewed their demand.

"Since you refuse the decretal," he said, "there is the greater reason why you should not refuse _the engagement_." This application led to fresh discussion and fresh tears. Clement gave way once more; but the Italians, more crafty than Gardiner, reserved a loophole in the doc.u.ment through which the pontiff might escape. The messenger Thaddeus carried it to London; and Gardiner left Orvieto for Rome to confer with Campeggio.

[792] In casu mortis pontificis, quod Deus avertat. (Burnet, Records, p. xxviii.) In case of the death of the pope, which may G.o.d avert.

[793] The thing which the king's highness and I more esteem than twenty papalities. Ibid. p. xxv.

Clement was a man of penetrating mind, and although he knew as well as any how to deliver a clever speech, he was irresolute and timid; and accordingly the commission had not long been despatched before he repented. Full of distress, he paced the ruined chambers of his old palace, and imagined he saw hanging over his head that terrible sword of Charles the Fifth, whose edge he had already felt. "Wretch that I am," said he, "cruel wolves surround me; they open their jaws to swallow me up.... I see none but enemies around me. At their head is the emperor.... What will he do? Alas! I have yielded that fatal commission which the general of the Spanish observance had enjoined me to refuse. Behind Charles come the Venetians, the Florentines, the duke of Ferrara.... They have cast lots upon my vesture.[794]... Next comes the king of France, who promises nothing, but looks on with folded arms; or rather, what perfidy! calls upon me at this critical moment to deprive Charles V of his crown.... And last, but not least, Henry VIII, _the defender of the faith_, indulges in frightful menaces against me.... The emperor desires to maintain the queen on the throne of England; the latter, to put her away.... Would to G.o.d that Catherine were in her grave! But, alas! she lives ... to be the apple of discord dividing the two greatest monarchies, and the inevitable cause of the ruin of the popedom.... Wretched man that I am! how cruel is my perplexity, and around me, I can see nothing but horrible confusion."[795]

[794] Novo fdere inito super vestem suam miserunt sortem. (Strype, Records, i. p. 109.) A new treaty being entered upon they have cast lots upon his vesture.

[795] His holiness findeth himself in a marvellous perplexity and confusion. Ibid. p. 108.

CHAPTER XI.

Fox's Report to Henry and Anne--Wolsey's Impression--He demands the Decretal--One of the Cardinal's petty Manuvres--He sets his Conscience at Rest--Gardiner fails at Rome--Wolsey's new perfidy--The King's Anger against the Pope--Sir T. More predicts Religious Liberty--Immorality of Ultramontane Socialism--Erasmus invited--Wolsey's last Flight--Energetic Efforts at Rome--Clement grants all--Wolsey triumphs--Union of Rome and England.

[Sidenote: FOX'S REPORT TO HENRY AND ANNE.]

During this time Fox was making his way to England. On the 27th of April he reached Paris; on the 2nd of May he landed at Sandwich, and hastened to Greenwich, where he arrived the next day at five in the evening, just as Wolsey had left for London. Fox's arrival was an event of great importance. "Let him go to Lady Anne's apartments,"

said the king, "and wait for me there." Fox told Anne Boleyn of his and Gardiner's exertions, and the success of their mission, at which she expressed her very great satisfaction. Indeed, more than a year had elapsed since her return to England, and she no longer resisted Henry's project. "Mistress Anne always called me Master Stephen,"

wrote Fox to Gardiner, "her thoughts were so full of you." The king appeared and Anne withdrew.

[Sidenote: FOX REPORTS TO THE KING.]

"Tell me as briefly as possible what you have done," said Henry. Fox placed in the king's hands the pope's insignificant letter, which he bade his almoner read; then that from Staffileo, which was put on one side; and lastly Gardiner's letter, which Henry took hastily and read himself. "The pope has promised us," said Fox, as he terminated his report, "to confirm the sentence of the divorce, as soon as it has been p.r.o.nounced by the commissioners."--"Excellent!" exclaimed Henry; and then he ordered Anne to be called in. "Repeat before this lady,"

he said to Fox, "what you have just told me." The almoner did so. "The pope is convinced of the justice of your cause," he said in conclusion, "and the cardinal's letter has convinced him that my lady is worthy of the throne of England."--"Make your report to Wolsey this very night," said the king.

It was ten o'clock when the chief almoner reached the cardinal's palace; he had gone to bed, but immediate orders were given that Fox should be conducted to his room. Being a churchman, Wolsey could understand the pope's artifices better than Henry; accordingly, as soon as he learnt that Fox had brought the commission only, he became alarmed at the task imposed upon him. "What a misfortune!" he exclaimed; "your commission is no better than Gambara's.... However, go and rest yourself; I will examine these papers to-morrow." Fox withdrew in confusion. "It is not bad," said Wolsey the next day, "but the whole business still falls on me alone!--Never mind, I must wear a contented look, or else...." In the afternoon he summoned into his closet Fox, Dr. Bell, and Viscount Rochford: "Master Gardiner has surpa.s.sed himself," said the crafty supple cardinal; "What a man! what an inestimable treasure! what a jewel in our kingdom!"[796]

[796] O non aestimandum thesaurum margaritamque regni nostri. Strype, Records, i, p. 119.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S FRAUD.]

He did not mean a word he was saying. Wolsey was dissatisfied with every thing,--with the refusal of the _decretal_, and with the drawing up of the _commission_, as well as of the _engagement_ (which arrived soon after in good condition, so far as the outside was concerned).

But the king's ill humour would infallibly recoil on Wolsey; so putting a good face on a bad matter, he ruminated in secret on the means of obtaining what had been refused him. "Write to Gardiner,"

said he to Fox, "that every thing makes me desire the pope's _decretal_--the need of unburdening my conscience, of being able to reply to the calumniators who will attack my judgment,[797] and the thought of the accidents to which the life of man is exposed. Let his holiness, then, p.r.o.nounce the divorce himself; we engage on our part to keep his resolution secret. But order Master Stephen to employ every kind of persuasion that his _rhetoric_ can imagine." In case the pope should positively refuse the decretal, Wolsey required that at least Campeggio should share the responsibility of the divorce with him.

[797] Justissime obstruere ora calumniantium et temere dissentientium.

Ibid. p. 120.

This was not all: while reading the engagement, Wolsey discovered the loophole which had escaped Gardiner, and this is what he contrived:--"The _engagement_ which the pope has sent us," he wrote to Gardiner, "is drawn up in such terms that he can retract it at pleasure; we must therefore find some _good way_ to obtain another.

You may do it under this pretence. You will appear before his holiness with a dejected air, and tell him that the courier, to whom the conveyance of the said engagement was intrusted, fell into the water with his despatches, so that the rescripts were totally defaced and illegible; that I have not dared deliver it into the king's hands, and unless his holiness will grant you a duplicate, some notable blame will be imputed unto you for not taking better care in its transmission. And further, you will continue: I remember the expressions of the former doc.u.ment, and to save your holiness trouble, I will dictate them to your secretary. Then," added Wolsey, "while the secretary is writing, you will find means to introduce, without its being perceived, as many _fat_, _pregnant_, and available words as possible, to bind the pope and enlarge my powers, the politic handling of which the king's highness and I commit unto your good discretion."[798]

[798] Burnet, Records, p. x.x.x.

Such was the expedient invented by Wolsey. The papal secretary, imagining he was making a fresh copy of the original doc.u.ment (which was, by the way, in perfect condition), was at the dictation of the amba.s.sador to draw up another of a different tenor. The "politic handling" of the cardinal-legate, which was not very unlike forgery, throws a disgraceful light on the policy of the sixteenth century.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S HYPOCRISY.]

Wolsey read this letter to the chief-almoner; and then, to set his conscience at rest, he added piously: "In an affair of such high importance, on which depends the glory or the ruin of the realm,--my honour or my disgrace--the condemnation of my soul or my everlasting merit--I will listen solely to the voice of my conscience,[799] and I shall act in such a manner as to be able to render an account to G.o.d without fear."

[799] Reclamante conscientia. Strype, Records, i. p. 124.

Wolsey did more; it seems that the boldness of his declarations rea.s.sured him with regard to the baseness of his works. Being at Greenwich on the following Sunday, he said to the king in the presence of Fox, Bell, Wolman, and Tuke: "I am bound to your royal person more than any subject was ever bound to his prince. I am ready to sacrifice my goods, my blood, my life for you.... But my obligations towards G.o.d are greater still. For that cause, rather than act against his will, I would endure the extremest evils.[800] I would suffer your royal indignation, and, if necessary, deliver my body to the executioners that they might cut it in pieces." What could be the spirit then impelling Wolsey? Was it blindness or impudence? He may have been sincere in the words he addressed to Henry; at the bottom of his heart he may have desired to set the pope above the king, and the church of Rome above the kingdom of England; and this desire may have appeared to him a sublime virtue, such as would hide a mult.i.tude of sins. What the public conscience would have called treason, was heroism to the Romish priest. This zeal for the papacy is sometimes met with in conjunction with the most flagrant immorality. If Wolsey deceived the pope, it was to save popery in the realm of England. Fox, Bell, Wolman, and Tuke listened to him with astonishment.[801] Henry, who thought he knew his man, received these holy declarations without alarm, and the cardinal having thus eased his conscience, proceeded boldly to his iniquities. It seems, however, that the inward reproaches which he silenced in public, had their revenge in secret.

One of his officers entering his closet shortly afterwards, presented a letter addressed to Campeggio for his signature. It ended thus: "I hope all things shall be done according to the will of G.o.d, the desire of the king, the quiet of the kingdom, and to our honour _with a good conscience_." The cardinal having read the letter, dashed out the four last words.[802] Conscience has a sting from which none can escape, not even a Wolsey.

[800] Extrema quaeque.....contra conscientiam suam. (Strype, Records, i. p. 126.) Any extreme whatever ... contrary to his conscience.

[801] To my great mervail and no less joy and comfort. Ibid. p. 126.

[802] Burnet's Ref. vol. i, p. 41.

However, Gardiner lost no time in Italy. When he met Campeggio (to whom Henry VIII had given a palace at Rome, and a bishopric in England), he entreated him to go to London and p.r.o.nounce the divorce.

This prelate, who was to be empowered in 1530 with authority to crush Protestantism in Germany, seemed bound to undertake a mission that would save Romanism in Britain. But proud of his position at Rome, where he acted as the pope's representative, he cared not for a charge that would undoubtedly draw upon him either Henry's hatred or the emperor's anger. He begged to be excused. The pope spoke in a similar tone. When he was informed of this, the terrible Tudor, beginning to believe that Clement desired to entangle him, as the hunter entangles the lion in his toils, gave vent to his anger on Tuke, Fox, and Gardiner, but particularly on Wolsey. Nor were reasons wanting for this explosion. The cardinal, perceiving that his hatred against Charles had carried him too far, pretended that it was without his orders that Clarencieux, bribed by France, had combined with the French amba.s.sador to declare war against the emperor; and added that he would have the English king-at-arms put to death as he pa.s.sed through Calais. This was an infallible means of preventing disagreeable revelations. But the herald, who had been forewarned, crossed by way of Boulogne, and, without the cardinal's knowledge, obtained an interview with Henry, before whom he placed the _orders_ he had received from Wolsey in _three_ consecutive letters. The king, astonished at his minister's impudence, exclaimed profanely: "O Lord Jesu, the man in whom I had most confidence told me quite the contrary." He then summoned Wolsey before him, and reproached him severely for his falsehoods. The wretched man shook like a leaf. Henry appeared to pardon him, but the season of his favour had pa.s.sed away.

Henceforward he kept the cardinal as one of those instruments we make use of for a time, and then throw away when we have no further need of them.

[Sidenote: HE BEGINS TO TREMBLE.]

The king's anger against the pope far exceeded that against Wolsey; he trembled from head to foot, rose from his seat, then sat down again, and vented his wrath in the most violent language:--"What!" he exclaimed, "I shall exhaust my political combinations, empty my treasury, make war upon my friends, consume my forces ... and for whom?... for a heartless priest who, considering neither the exigencies of my honour, nor the peace of my conscience, nor the prosperity of my kingdom, nor the numerous benefits which I have lavished on him, refuses me a favour, which he ought, as the common father of the faithful, to grant even to an enemy.... Hypocrite!...

You cover yourself with the cloak of friendship, you flatter us by crafty practices,[803] but you give us only a b.a.s.t.a.r.d doc.u.ment, and you say like Pilate: It matters little to me if this king perishes, and all his kingdom with him; take him and judge him according to your law!... I understand you ... you wish to entangle us in the briers,[804] to catch us in a trap, to lure us into a pitfall.... But we have discovered the snare; we shall escape from your ambuscade, and brave your power."

[803] By crafty means and under the face and visage of entire amity.

Strype, vol. i, p. 166.

[804] To involve and cast us so in the briers and fetters. Strype, vol. i. p. 166.

[Sidenote: SIR T. MORE'S PROPHECY.]

Such was the language then heard at the court of England, says an historian.[805] The monks and priests began to grow alarmed, while the most enlightened minds already saw in the distance the first gleams of religious liberty. One day, at a time when Henry was proving himself a zealous follower of the Romish doctrines, Sir Thomas More was sitting in the midst of his family, when his son-in-law, Roper, now become a warm papist, exclaimed: "Happy kingdom of England, where no heretic dares show his face!"--"That is true, son Roper," said More; "we seem to sit now upon the mountains, treading the heretics under our feet like ants; but I pray G.o.d that some of us do not live to see the day when we gladly would wish to be at league with them, to suffer them to have their churches quietly to themselves, so that they would be content to let us have ours peaceably to ourselves." Roper angrily replied:[806] "By my word, sir, that is very desperately spoken!"

More, however, was in the right; genius is sometimes a great diviner.

The Reformation was on the point of inaugurating religious liberty, and by that means placing civil liberty on an immovable foundation.

[805] Ibid.

[806] My uncle said in a rage. More's Life, p. 132.

[Sidenote: ROMANISM AND CONSCIENCE.]

Henry himself grew wiser by degrees. He began to have doubts about the Roman hierarchy, and to ask himself, whether a priest-king, embarra.s.sed in all the political complications of Europe, could be the head of the church of Jesus Christ. Pious individuals in his kingdom recognized in Scripture and in conscience a law superior to the law of Rome, and refused to sacrifice at the command of the church their moral convictions, sanctioned by the revelation of G.o.d. The hierarchical system, which claims to absorb man in the papacy, had oppressed the consciences of Christians for centuries. When the Romish Church had required from such as Berengarius, John Huss, Savonarola, John Wesel, and Luther, the denial of their consciences enlightened by the word, that is to say, by the voice of G.o.d, it had shown most clearly how great is the immorality of ultramontane socialism. "If the Christian consents to this enormous demand of the hierarchy," said the most enlightened men; "if he renounces his own notions of good and evil in favour of the clergy; if he reserves not his right to obey G.o.d, who speaks to him in the Bible, rather than men, even if their agreement were universal; if Henry VIII, for instance, should silence his conscience, which condemns his union with his brother's widow, to obey the clerical voice which approves of it; by that very act he renounces truth, duty, and even G.o.d himself." But we must add, that if the rights of conscience were beginning to be understood in England, it was not about such holy matters as these that the pope and Henry were contending. They were both intriguers--both dissatisfied, the one desirous of love, the other of power.

Be that as it may, a feeling of disgust for Rome then took root in the king's heart, and nothing could afterwards eradicate it. He immediately made every exertion to attract Erasmus to London. Indeed, if Henry separated from the pope, his old friends, the humanists, must be his auxiliaries, and not the heretical doctors. But Erasmus, in a letter dated 1st June, alleged the weak state of his health, the robbers who infested the roads, the wars and rumours of wars then afloat. "Our destiny leads us," he said; "let us yield to it."[807] It is a fortunate thing for England that Erasmus was not its reformer.