The life and times of Thomas Cranmer

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Chapter I

Henry the Eighth ascended the throne in 1509, at the age of eighteen. His father, Henry the Seventh, had left him a well filled treasury, a kingdom at peace with all the world, loyal subjects, and experienced ministers.

Henry united in himself the claims of Lancaster and York. Nature had given him personal beauty, and he was educated in the learning of the times. Had that learning been such as the education of modern times presents to the youthful and ardent mind, a wholly different character might have been formed. But he was doomed to pass his early days in the study of abstruse theological questions, considering learning as the field of polemical debate, and early enlisting under the banners of Thomas Aquinas. This course of education could have but little favorable influence in forming his moral character, or in cultivating a taste for high and noble pursuits. 1

In manly exercises and in the accomplishments of the day, he was said to be well skilled ; but it is evident that the theory of self-education had never been inculcated upon the mind of the youthful King. There is not the distinction, which the thoughtless are apt to imagine, between the high-born and the low. All have a work to accomplish for themselves, which no earthly power can accomplish for them. The monarch may become the slave of his own vices, and the poorest subject a monarch over himself. The Universal Father does not give to one of his children bread J to another a stone j but he gives to all the power of being virtuous ; and this power he has placed in the soul. It is not far that we have to seek it, or long to wait for it ; it comes in the form of conscience and principle, and, cherished, springs into action.

It has been common to ascribe the low pursuits of Henry to the influence of Wolsey, whose age and experience undoubtedly gave him dominion over the mind of his royal master ; but it was his knowledge of character that unveiled to him the most effectual way of governing him, by feeding his vanity and administering to his love of pleasure.

We turn with disgust from the mansion of Wolsey, the early resort of the King ; from its guests, its revelry, its low theatrical exhibitions.

its Syrens luring to destroy, and can with difficulty realize, that it was an ecclesiastic, a son of the church, who presided over all.

It is well known how the subserviency of Wolsey was rewarded. He rose from one degree of distinction to another, till he became prime minister. Leo, the Pope, was not slow in discovering that the minister ruled the king, and sought, by conferring honors, to secure the services of Wolsey for his own purposes.

Wolsey's titles multiplied as fast as his ambitious desires. He was made Archbishop of York, Bishop of Durham, Abbot of St. Albans, Lord Chancellor of England, a Legate for life, a Cardinal, and was caressed or feared by all the powers of Europe. Ambition is never satisfied, till it bestrides the globe. There was another elevation to which the Cardinal aspired ; and this was, to be the hero of the Vatican, the infallible head of the church, and to take charge of the keys of St. Peter.

The Emperor of Germany had held out to him this last lure ; the only one that could still excite his satiated desires. One obstacle, however, remained. Leo was as likely to live as himself ; and Leo's life was now the only obstacle.

It was with no common degree of exultation, that Wolsey heard of the sudden death of the

Pope. The time had arrived, which he had so long anticipated. Hitherto, he had been contented with distinguishing himself by his flowing robes of silk and vestments of cloth of gold, by the superb housings of his horses, by having his cardinal's hat borne before him on a pillar of silver by a person of high rank, and placed on the altar at the King's chapel in a reverential manner. His two particular attendants were priests, selected for their great personal beauty. As the Cardinal ascended the steps of the altar, they prostrated themselves on each side, while the audience, with his fifty personal attendants, stood at a respectful distance, not feeling worthy to approach the august prelate.

It was observed, immediately after the news of Leo's death arrived, that he appeared with more pomp than usual on days of public ceremony. The ensigns of his several dignities as Chancellor and Legate were borne before him, he was surrounded by noblemen and prelates, and was followed by a long train of mules, bearing coffers on their backs, covered with gold and crimson cloth.

This parade had begun to pall upon his senses, for he had already passed " many summers in a sea of glory " ; but now, he believed, he had reached the zenith of his ambition. His white hair was to be crowned by the jewelled tiara, and kings and emperors were to acknowledge his supremacy.

As suddenly as Leo's death, arrived the news of Adrian's appointment to the Holy See, and Wolsey saw himself excluded from the chair of St. Peter.

Through the prosperous vicissitudes of Henry's reign, Catharine of Aragon had been the partner of his throne. She had commanded his respect by her virtues, and borne with his faults with a patience and forbearance, that resulted from principle and conjugal affection, rather than from a gentle and indulgent character. To Wolsey she ascribed many of the wanderings of her husband, and spoke to him freely on the subject. Her accusations were severe, and were indignantly received ; she reproached him with ministering to the licentious pleasures of the King, and using an influence disgraceful to a prelate.

The haughty and overbearing Cardinal could ill endure this language ; and, though he suppressed as far as possible his indignation, Catharine was conscious he had become her bitter enemy.

Hitherto Henry had borne in his gay and jovial countenance the index of his character. But a change seemed to have come over him. His face was no longer clothed in smiles ; an expression of care and anxiety clouded his brow ; sighs frequently arose ; his step became slow and measured. He had taken great delight in tournaments, which gratified his taste for magnificence and his prowess in arms. All were now forbidden ; and. he was usually seen poring over musty parch menis, with hose ungartered and head unkempt.

Henry the Eighth had deviated from the aus terity of his father's court. He emulated the romantic gallantry of Francis, the French monarch ; but it was uncongenial to him, and often his violence and impetuosity broke forth, even in the presence of the fair ladies of his court, whom he most wished to please. This change from a gay and dissipated course of amusements excited much surprise and conjecture.

At length he announced the cause, — deepseated scruples of conscience were preying upon his health ; he had, after much investigation and study, fully convinced himself, that his union with Catharine, who had been betrothed to his brother Arthur, and whom he had married as the widow of that prince, was sinning against the laws of God. He had collected many passages of Scripture to prove the unholiness of the union, which he said was fully demonstrated by their having no male heir to the throne, the Princess Mary being their only surviving child.

What must have been Catharine's sensations when these scruples were announced to her ; she who had been his wife for nearly twenty years !

Her suspicions rested immediately on Wolsey, as the instigator of this new-born tenderness of conscience. Probably she accused him wrongfully, and might better have attributed the whole to the caprice of Henry's character. It must be acknowledged, that the subject had been discussed by learned prelates previously to the marriage. However little inclined Wolsey was to the Queen, there seems to have been no adequate motive for thus stirring up his master's conscience.

About this time, or perhaps a little before it, Henry met with Anne Boleyn, the accomplished daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn. She had been educated in France, and, on her return to England, became maid of honor to the Queen. The winning graces of this lady were heightened by the polish of a French education, which was altogether opposed to the Enghsh. Women in England of high rank were usually educated in nunneries. They were taught enough of reading for religious exercises, but confectionery, needlework, and, what is somewhat surprising, physic and surgery, came under the head of female accomplishments. * When removed from these seminaries to the houses of their parents, daughters were placed standing at the table, where they ate their dinners like statues, and were not per-

* This is proved by a tract written in the last century, in the " Antiq. Repertory."

milted to sit, though a cushion was usually placed before them, on which they were at liberty to kneel. It is said, that, even in Sully's time, this austerity was prevalent in France, and that he used to enjoy rural happiness on a bench in his garden, just large enough for himself, while his family stood uncovered, facing him.*

Anne Boleyn's natural vivacity had broken through the restraints of the time. Henry, attracted by her beauty, approached and accosted her at a tournament, with visor down, and masked, and requested leave to wear her scarf of silver tissue. Being, or pretending to be, unconscious that the King addressed her, she playfully repHed ; " Nay, Sir Knight ; do not venture ; it was given me by a magician, and whoever wears it, becomes my slave for hfe."

" That, I am, already ; " said the gallant monarch ; and, forgetting his assumed character, reached forth his hand to take it, with royal impunity.

Anne hastily retreated, saying; "Nay, Sir Knight ; were it the King himself, he takes it not by force."

Henry, unable to restrain his impetuosity, drew off his mask. Anne, gently sinking on one knee, disengaged the silver tissue from her neck, and threw it over the arm of the King.

* This stone bench is preserved at Rosny.

There is no doubt but his scruples of conscience were greatly increased by the charms of Anne, blooming in youthful beauty. Catharine had never been handsome or fascinating. Time had passed heavily over her countenance. She had nothing to plead but her faithful and untiring love, her loyal devotion to his interest. For nearly twenty years she had borne his wanderings without reproach ; she was the mother of his children, and her heart was bound up in the one that Heaven had still spared to them. For a time, she resisted the idea that he could separate himself from her ; that he could attach a stigma to her name, and proclaim his child illegitimate. But the unwelcome truth was at last forced upon her.

Henry now openly soHcited the opinions of the most eminent canonists and divines. He composed treatises himself on the subject, and continued to make proselytes. With the nation at large his cause was unpopular. A queen is known to her subjects. The virtues of Catharine were calculated to awaken the interest of the people ; her cause was warmly espoused, and, as Wolsey in all other things had been the director of Henry's conscience, it was naturally supposed he was so in this ; and their hatred towards the haughty and domineering Cardinal was greatly increased. It is said, however, that, when he first announced his intention to Wolsey of marrying Anne Boleyn, the minister received the information with grief and dismay.

" I beseech your Majesty," said he, falling upon his knees, " to remember the disparity of her birth. I confess to you, that I have given hopes, that, when the divorce is accomphshed, you will place the crown upon the head of a French princess, and thereby secure the King of France for a warm ally. Let this Syren retire from the court, and do not bring upon yourself the disgrace that will follow."

"Ha! is it so?" exclaimed Henry; ''by my kingdom, the loons are right ; this man will be king."

Wolsey, startled at the anger of his master, and aware that on this point he brooked no opposition, changed his tone at once, and, as if overcome by sudden conviction, promised to afford all his aid to the royal cause. To prove his zeal, he suggested to Henry the propriety of giving a magnificent entertainment at Greenwich, nominally in honor of foreign ambassadors, but in reahty to facilitate his suit with Anne. The Queen was splendidly dressed ; but her diamonds covered an aching heart. A spectator of the scene has left his testimony of the effect produced on himself by the females. " They seemed to all men to be rather celestial angels, descended from heaven,

CRANMER AND HIS TIMES. H

than flesh and bone. Surely to me, simple soul, it was inestimable." *

Anne was dressed with great simphcity ; her beautiful hair braided and fastened with ribbands. She won many hearts, hitherto rebellious, by her modest deportment. Three hundred lances were broken before supper ; in the evening, the company withdrew to the ball-room, where they were entertained with an oration and songs, a fight at barriers, and the dancing of maskers. About midnight, the King, with six others, retired and dressed themselves as Venetian noblemen, and returned and selected ladies for the dance. Anne Boleyn was Henry's partner.

It may not be uninteresting to describe the dresses of the King and Queen Catharine, as given by an historian of the day at their coronation.

" His grace wared in his upperst apparels a robe of crimsyn velvet, furred with armyns ; his jacket or cote of raised gold ; the placard embroidered with diamonds, rubies, emeraudes, greate pearles, and other riche stones ; a greate bauderike (collar) aboute his necke, of large balasses (rubies).

" The Quene was appareled in white satyn embrodered ; her hair hangyng down to her backe, of a very greate lengthe, bewtefull and

* Cavendish.

goodly to behold, and on her hedde a coronall, set with many riche Orient stones."

Alas ! poor Catharine ! she then little thought that the superb coronal was, during her lifetime, to be placed on the head of another.

In the reign of Henry the Eighth, great progress had been made in the fashion of dress. During the reign of Henry the Seventh, it was grotesque and fantastic, and is thus described by the same historian.

" Over the breeches was worn a petticoat ; the doublet was laced like the stays of a woman, across a stomacher, and a gown or mantle with wide sleeves descended over the doublet and petticoat down to the ancles. Commoners were satisfied, instead of a gown, with a frock or tunic, shaped like a shirt, gathered at the middle, and fastened round the loins by a girdle, from which a short dagger was generally suspended. But the petticoat was rejected after the accession of Henry the Eighth, and trousers or tight garments that displayed the symmetry of the limbs, were revived, and the length of the doublet and mantle diminished. The fashions which the great have discarded are often retained by the lower orders, and the form of the tunic, or Saxon garment, may be still discovered in the wagoner's frock ; of the trause, and perhaps of the petticoat, in the different trousers that are worn by seamen. These habits were again diversified by minute decorations and changes of fashion. From an opinion that corpulence contributes to dignity, the doublet was puckered and distended around the body ; and the sleeves were swelled into large ruffs. The doublet and breeches were sometimes slashed, and, with the addition of a short cloak and a stiffened cap, resembled the national dress of the Spaniards. Among gentlemen, long hair was fashionable, till Henry cut off his own, and ordered his courtiers to 'poll their heads.' He also made sumptuary laws, to regulate the inordinate dress of his subjects. Cloth of gold or tissue was reserved for dukes and marquises ; if of a purple color, for the royal family. Silks and velvets were restricted to commoners of wealth and distinction ; but embroidery was interdicted from all beneath the degree of an earl. Instead of pockets, a loose pouch was worn at the girdle."

Chapter II

WoLSEY afterwards gave an entertainment to the ambassadors. " The company were summoned by a trumpet to supper, and the courses were announced by a prelude of music. The second course contained upwards of a hundred devices of subtilties ; castles, churches, animals, warriors jousting on foot and on horseback ; others dancing with ladies ; all as well counterfeited as the painter should have painted on a cloth or wall."

Such entertainments were not of short duration ; the dinner hour was eleven in the forenoon, the supper six in the evening ; but the dinner was often prolonged till supper, and that protracted till late at night. Breakfast consisted of brawn, jellies, sweetmeats, ale, brandy, and spiced wine. Wolsey dined with a state that even the nobility did not assume. His table was elevated fifteen steps at the upper end of the hall, and, in serving his dinner, the monks at every fifth step sung a hymn. He sat at the middle of the table, to the ends of which his guests of distinguished rank were admitted ; and the monks, after their attendance was over, sat dovm to tables at the sides of the hall, and were served with similar respect by the novices.

When we hear of kings and emperors, we naturally attach something of the luxury of the present times to our idea of their style of hving. If we go back, however, to ancient records, royalty is stripped of its pageantry. Margaret, on her marriage with James the Fourth, made her pubhc entry into Edinburgh, riding behind her consort on a pillion. Hampton Court, which was built by Wolsey, and presented to Henry the Eighth, affords no description of elegant furniture. Henry's chamber would, in the present day, have strangely contrasted with our common sleepingrooms. We do not read of any carpet. Probably the floor was strewed with clean rushes ; and these were a luxury, if we take Erasmus's description of English habits. He says ; "Their floors are composed of clay, and covered with sand or rushes, foul and loathsome ; " and he even goes so far as to attribute the visitations of the plague to this cause. A bed, a cupboard, a joint-stool, a small mirror, and a large pair of andirons, were the only furniture of the regal apartment.

When we are told of Henry's love of chivalry, of his jousts and tournaments, we must not associate with his habits or manners the romantic gallantry of the troubadours, or even of his contemporary Francis. The fair sex were not invested by his imagination with spiritual beauty. He considered them as born for his amusement and pleasure. Even when aiming at the character of a preux chevalier^ he could not control the impetuosity of his temper. A slight opposition to his royal wishes stripped him of his assumed disguise, and discovered at once that he considered the lady of his homage in no other light than the creature of his will. Who at this crisis does not tremble for Anne Boleyn. Educated among a nation whose morals were essentially defective, full of natural gayety, conscious of her charms, and conceahng in her heart that ambition and that love of splendor which are fatal to the truth and tenderness of the female character, she had, however, one safeguard remaining. She was attached to Percy ; and it was necessary that the tyranny of the King should be exerted to prevent their intercourse. The parents were compelled to oppose the union ; and, when Percy married another, in compliance with his father's commands, Anne lost the security she had derived from virtuous affection.

There cannot be a more melancholy picture to contemplate, than the history of this winning and thoughtless girl. Had Henry found no other agents for his cause than his fascinations, either of mind or person, she would have trod the mazes of a court with a firm and dignified step ; but, in her own secret ambition, he discovered an effectual promoter of his wishes. When we find such encomiums as the following passed upon her by her advocates, we cannot but fear, that she at once understood and favored the suit of the King.

^'' He liked to try of what temper the regard of her honor was, which, he finding not any way to be tainted with those things his kingly majestie and means could bringe to the batterie, he in the end fell to win her by treaty of marriage ; and in this talk took from her a ring and that ware upon his littel finger ; yet al this with such a secresie was carried, and on her part so wisely, as none or verie few esteemed this other than an ordinarie course of dalliance."

Letters from the King, written in French, to Anne Boleyn, were stolen from her, and conveyed to the Vatican at Rome. Copies of them were procured by Bishop Burnet afterwards, and have been translated and published.*

Anne professed to be displeased with the attentions of the monarch. It was asserted, that " she stood stil upon her guard, and was not easily taken with all this aparance of happiness : whereof two things appeared to be the causes : the one,

* Appendix to Burnet's "History of the Reformation."

the love she bore ever to the Queen, whom she served, that was also a personage of greate virtue ; the other, her conceit, that this was not that freedom of conjunction with one that was her lord and king, as with one more agreeable to her."

The rumor of Henry's intended divorce must have early reached her ear ; and, if she aspired to the throne, she must have been sensible, that she could only obtain it, by the total ruin of Catharine's happiness. To resist the royal suit, however, seems to have been beyond her moral strength. Nor can we be surprised, when we reflect that "images of splendor and greatness were the objects first presented to her infant eyes ; and it was one of the earliest lessons imprinted on her mind, that they could scarcely be obtained at too dear a price."

Catharine soon perceived the secret intelligence between her husband and Anne. Her observation, when she was playing at cards with the young beauty, has been recorded. It was a rule in the play to stop on turning up a king or queen. It came to Anne's luck often to stop at a king, upon which the Queen said, somewhat pointedly ; " My lady Anne, you have good luck to stop at a king ; but you are not like others ; you will have all or none.''^

The time soon arrived when the unhappy queen could no longer be ignorant or doubtful ;

yet she seems to have conducted towards her rival with gentleness and dignity.

Wolsey was placed in a most perplexing dilemma. Ignorant, at first, of the King's desire to seat Anne upon the throne, and supposing the pleasure he tooii in her society was merely a light affair of dalliance, he prepared great banquets and high feasts, to entertain the King with her at his own house. Catharine could not but be informed of the Cardinal's subserviency to his master's wishes, and her dislike towards him was greatly heightened by this conduct. Anne for a time seems to have considered him her warm friend ; and copies of her letters to him are still extant, in which such expressions as the following are frequently interspersed ; " And next unto the King's grace, of one thing I make you full promise to be assured to have it, and that is, my hearty love unfeignedly during my life."

When the King first communicated his intention of raising Anne to the throne, the Cardinal received the intelligence with evident dismay. Her disposition to favor the Lutheran cause was openly avowed. She had sometimes seriously, and sometimes playfully, argued with the King against the mother church. Wolsey's pride, too, was incensed at the idea of acknowledging for his royal mistress, one whom he considered as in an inferior station ; yet he too well knew his master's humor to venture any open opposition.

By his activity in procuring the divorce, he had felt entitled to be consulted about another alliance. Henry was loo determined, or too wary, to trust him with his secret, and Wolsey found, that, while he had been promoting what he considered an affair of gallantry, he had, in reality, been elevating Anne to the throne.

There is one circumstance which cannot be omitted, as it had a tendency to increase Wolsey 's aversion to the marriage. Anne was constantly in the habit of reading heretical books, which had been proscribed by Cardinal Wolsey, and she usually marked those passages that most excited her admiration. These were generally opposed to the Catholic persuasion. A book, thus marked, was purloined from her apartment and carried to Wolsey. He, now believing the ruin of the young heretic certain, dehvered it in triumph to Henry. So far from expressing indignation, the King not only pardoned her, but consented to look over the book with her.

The delay, which the Pope threw in the way of the divorce, is well known. When he could no longer protract his interference, he despatched Cardinal Campeggio to the English court, and at length the King and Queen were summoned, and the trial commenced. Part of the noble speech of the Queen is faithfully given by the immortal bard, and too well known to need a repetition ; but she goes on to say ;

*' The King, your father, was a man of such an excellent wit in his time, that he was recounted a second Solomon ; and the King of Spain, my father, Ferdinand, was taken for one of the wisest kings that reigned in Spain these many years. So they were both wise men and noble princes ; and it is no question but they had wise counsellors of either realm, as be now at this day, who thought not, at the marriage of you and me, to hear wdiat new devices are now invented against me, to stand to the order of this court. And I conceive you do me much wrong ; nay, you condemn me for not answering, having no counsel but such as you have assigned me ; you must consider that they cannot be indifferent on my part, being your own subjects, and such as you have made choice of out of your own Council, whereunto they are privy, and dare not disclose your pleasure."

It is well known, that, after she had made her protest, she left the court ; and, though summoned to return, positively refused.

The testimony Henry gave to her character, after her departure, seems to have been called forth by the dignity of her demeanor. " She hath been always a true and obedient wife."

The appeal made by the King to the Pope was highly embarrassing to him. Catharine was aunt to the Emperor, Charles the Fifth, whom he greatly feared to offend. Of Henry, too, who had obtained from Leo the title of " Defender of the Faith," he stood almost equally in awe. His only resource was to procrastinate and place obstacles in the way.

Cardinal Campeggio, after his arrival in England, used many arguments to persuade the King to renounce his intentions. At this attempt, Henry was greatly enraged, and said, it was evident that the Pope had sent him to confirm, rather than annul, his marriage. Campeggio then showed him a bull, in which the Pope had granted the divorce, if matters could not be brought to a friendly conclusion. This bull, however, he acknowledged, v/as only to be shown to the King and Wolsey, and riot to be trusted out of his own hands. He entreated the King not to be precipitate in the affair, as great advantages might be taken from that, by the Queen's party ; that, therefore, it was fit to proceed slowly ; but he assured him, that the decision would finally be according to his wishes.

At length, after many adjournments, the court sat to decide the matter, and Gardiner, who was the head of the King's Council, desired sentence might be given. Both the King and Anne Boleyn were sanguine, at this crisis, that no further obstacles would be made to their union ; and

Henry stationed himself in an adjoining room, where he could have the pleasure of hearing the sentence pronounced. What was his indignation, when Campeggio declared, that the court must be adjourned till October, (it was then July,) as no causes could be heard in vacation time, according to the rules of the Consistory of Rome.

It soon became evident that Wolsey was losing confidence and favor with the King, who suspected that much of this delay arose from his ill offices. It does not appear that he had any cause for this suspicion ; but, unfortunately for the Cardinal, with all the deception he had practised, he was not able to counterfeit upright and undeviating principle ; and neither the monarch nor the favorite could have had much confidence in, or respect for, the other. Seven months had passed since Campeggio's arrival, and Henry found himself no nearer obtaining a divorce, than when he first arrived. Yet his passion for Anne did not decline on account of the obstacles placed in his path. He took the decisive step of dismissing Catharine to Greenwich, and sent for Anne to return to the Court. She had judiciously withdrawn to her father's house. It was said, that she returned with reluctance, and only yielded to the entreaties of her father. Henry gave her a splendid establishment, and apartments richly furnished, and exacted the utmost deference towards her from his courtiers.