A Modern History, From the Time of Luther to the Fall of Napoleon. John Lord

among her maids of honor there was one peculiarly accomplished and fascinating, to whom the king transferred his affections with unwonted vehemence. Anne Boleyn. This was Anne Boleyn, daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, who, from his great wealth, married Elizabeth Howard, daughter of the first duke of Norfolk. This noble alliance brought Sir Thomas Boleyn into close connection with royalty, and led to the appointment of his daughter to the high post which she held at the court of Queen Catharine. It is probable that the king suppressed his passion for some time; and it would have been longer concealed, even from its object, had not his jealousy been excited by her attachment to Percy, son of the Earl of Northumberland. The king at last made known his passion; but the daughter of the Howards was too proud, or too politic, or too high principled, to listen to his overtures. It was only as queen of England, that she would return the passion of her royal lover. Moreover, she resolved to be revenged on the all-powerful cardinal, for assisting in her separation from Percy, whom she loved with romantic attachment. The king waited four years, but Anne remained inflexibly virtuous. He then meditated the divorce from Catharine, as the only way to accomplish the object which now seemed to animate his existence. He confided the matter to his favorite minister; but Wolsey was thunderstruck at the disclosure, and remained with him four hours on his knees, to dissuade him from a step which he justly regarded as madness. Here Wolsey appears as an honest man and a true friend; but royal infatuation knows neither wisdom, justice, nor humanity. Wolsey, as a man of the world, here made a blunder, and departed from the policy he had hitherto pursued—that of flattering the humors of his absolute master. Wolsey, however, recommended the king to consult the divines; for Henry pretended that, after nearly twenty years of married life, he had conscientious scruples about the lawfulness of his marriage. The learned English doctors were afraid to pronounce their opinions, and suggested a reference to the fathers. But the king was not content with their authority; he appealed to the pope, and to the decisions of half of the universities of Europe. It seems very singular that a sovereign so unprincipled, unscrupulous, and passionate, and yet so absolute and powerful as was Henry, should have wasted his time and money in seeking countenance to an act on which he was fully determined, and which countenance he never could reasonably hope to secure. But his character was made up of contradictions. His caprice, violence, and want of good faith, were strangely blended with superstition and reverence for the authority of the church. His temper urged him to the most rigorous measure of injustice; and his injustice produced no shame, although he was restrained somewhat by the opinions of the very men whom he did not hesitate to murder.

      Queen Queen Catharine. Catharine, besides being a virtuous and excellent woman, was powerfully allied, and was a zealous Catholic. Her repudiation, therefore, could not take place without offending the very persons whose favor the king was most anxious to conciliate especially the Emperor Charles, her nephew, and the pope, and all the high dignitaries and adherents of the church. Even Wolsey could not in honor favor the divorce, although it was his policy to do so. In consequence of his intrigues, and the scandal and offence so outrageous an act as the divorce of Catharine must necessarily produce throughout the civilized world, Henry long delayed to bring the matter to a crisis, being afraid of a war with Charles V., and of the anathemas of the pope. Moreover, he hoped to gain him over, for the pope had sent Cardinal Campeggio to London, to hold, with his legate Wolsey, a court to hear the case. But it was the farthest from his intention to grant the divorce, for the pope was more afraid of Charles V. than he was of Henry VIII.

      The court settled nothing, and the king's wrath now turned towards Disgrace and Death of Wolsey. Wolsey, whom he suspected of secretly thwarting his measures. The accomplished courtier, so long accustomed to the smiles and favors of royalty, could not bear his disgrace with dignity. The proudest man in England became, all at once, the meanest. He wept, he cringed, he lost his spirits; he surrendered his palace, his treasures, his honors, and his offices, into the hands of him who gave them to him, without a single expostulation: wrote most abject letters to "his most gracious, most merciful, and most pious sovereign lord;" and died of a broken heart on his way to a prison and the scaffold. "Had I but served my God as diligently as I have served the king, he would not have given me over in my gray hairs"—these were the words of the dying cardinal; his sad confessions on experiencing the vanity of human life. But the vindictive prince suffered no word of sorrow or regret to escape him, when he heard of the death of his prime minister, and his intimate friend for twenty years.

      Shortly after the disgrace of Wolsey, which happened nearly a year before his death, (1529,) three remarkable men began to figure in English politics and history. These were More—Cranmer—Cromwell. Sir Thomas More, Thomas Cranmer, and Thomas Cromwell. More was the most accomplished, most learned, and most enlightened of the three. He was a Catholic, but very exemplary in his life, and charitable in his views. In moral elevation of character, and beautiful serenity of soul, the annals of the great men of his country furnish no superior. His extensive erudition and moral integrity alone secured him the official station which Wolsey held as lord chancellor. He was always the intimate friend of the king, and his conversation, so enlivened by wit, and so rich and varied in matter, caused his society to be universally sought. He discharged his duties with singular conscientiousness and ability; and no one ever had cause to complain that justice was not rendered him.

      Cranmer's elevation was owing to a fortunate circumstance, notwithstanding his exalted merit. He happened to say, while tutor to a gentleman of the name of Cressy, in the hearing of Dr. Gardiner, then secretary to Henry, that the proper way to settle the difficulty about the divorce was, to appeal to learned men, who would settle the matter on the sole authority of the Bible, without reference to the pope. This remark was reported to the king, and Cranmer was sent to reside with the father of Anne Boleyn, and was employed in writing a treatise to support his opinion. His ability led to further honors, until, on the death of Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, he was appointed to the vacant see, the first office in dignity and importance in the kingdom, and from which no king, however absolute, could eject him, except by the loss of life. We shall see that, in all matters of religion, Cranmer was the ruling spirit in England until the accession of Mary.

      Cromwell's origin was even more obscure than that of Wolsey's; but he received his education at one of the universities. We first hear of him as a clerk in an English factory at Antwerp, then as a soldier in the army of the Constable Bourbon when it sacked Rome, then as a clerk in a mercantile house in Venice, and then again as a lawyer in England, where he attracted the attention of Wolsey, who made him his solicitor, and employed him in the dissolution of monasteries. He then became a member of the house of commons, where his address and business talents were conspicuous. He was well received at court, and confirmed in the stewardship of the monasteries, after the disgrace of his master. His office brought him often into personal conference with the king; and, at one of these, he recommended him to deny the authority of the pope altogether, and declare himself supreme head of the church. The boldness of this advice was congenial to the temper of the king, worried by the opposition of Rome to his intended divorce, and Cromwell became a member of the privy council. His fortune was thus made by his seasonable advice. All who opposed the king were sure to fall, and all who favored him were sure to rise, as must ever be the case in an absolute monarchy, where the king is the centre and the fountain of all honor and dignity.

      With such ministers as Cranmer and Cromwell, the measures of Henry were now prompt and bold. Queen Catharine was soon disposed of; she was divorced and disgraced, and Anne Boleyn was elevated to her throne, (1533.) The anathemas of the pope and the outcry of all Europe followed. Sir Thomas More resigned the seals, and retired to poverty and solitude. But he was not permitted to enjoy his retirement long. Refusing to take the oath of supremacy to Henry, as head of the church as well as of the state, he was executed, with other illustrious Catholics. The execution of More was the most cruel and uncalled-for act of the whole reign, and entailed on its author the execrations of all the learned and virtuous men in Europe, most of whom appreciated the transcendent excellences of the murdered chancellor, the author of the Utopia, and the Boethius of his age.

      The fulminations of the pope only excited Henry to more Quarrel with the Pope. decided opposition. The parliament, controlled by Cromwell, acknowledged him as the supreme head of the Church of England, and the separation from Rome was final and irrevocable. The tenths were annexed to the crown, and the bishops took a new oath of supremacy.

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