The priests, thanks to the king's sword, began to count on victory; yet schoolmasters, musicians, tradesmen, and even ecclesiastics, were not enough for them. They wanted n.o.bler victims, and these were to be looked for in London. More himself, accompanied by the lieutenant of the Tower, searched many of the suspected houses.[1129] Few citizens were more esteemed in London than John Pet.i.t, the same who, in the house of commons, had so n.o.bly resisted the king's demand about the loan. Pet.i.t was learned in history and in Latin literature: he spoke with eloquence, and for twenty years had worthily represented the city. Whenever any important affair was debated in parliament, the king, feeling uneasy, was in the habit of inquiring which side he took? This political independence, very rare in Henry's parliaments, gave umbrage to the prince and his ministers. Pet.i.t, the friend of Bilney, Fryth, and Tyndale, had been one of the first in England to taste the sweetness of G.o.d's word,[1130] and had immediately manifested that beautiful characteristic by which the gospel-faith makes itself known, namely, charity. He abounded in almsgiving, supported a great number of poor preachers of the gospel in his own country and beyond the seas; and whenever he noted down these generous aids in his books, he wrote merely the words: "Lent unto Christ."[1131] He, moreover, forbade his testamentary executors to call in these debts.

[1129] Strype, i, p. 312.

[1130] Strype, i, p. 312.

[1131] Ibid. p. 314.

Pet.i.t was tranquilly enjoying the sweets of domestic life in his modest home in the society of his wife and two daughters, Blanche and Audrey, when he received an unexpected visit. One day, as he was praying in his closet, a loud knock was heard at the street-door. His wife ran to open it, but seeing Lord-chancellor More, she returned hurriedly to her husband, and told him that the lord-chancellor wanted him. More, who followed her, entered the closet, and with inquisitive eye ran over the shelves of the library, but could find nothing suspicious. Presently he made as if he would retire, and Pet.i.t accompanied him. The chancellor stopped at the door and said to him: "You a.s.sert that you have none of these new books?"--"You have seen my library," replied Pet.i.t.--"I am informed, however," replied More, "that you not only read them, but pay for the printing." And then he added in a severe tone: "Follow the lieutenant." In spite of the tears of his wife and daughters this independent member of parliament was conducted to the Tower, and shut up in a damp dungeon where he had nothing but straw to lie upon. His wife went thither each day in vain, asking, with tears, permission to see him, or at least to send him a bed. The jailors refused her every thing; and it was only when Pet.i.t fell dangerously ill that the latter favour was granted him. This took place in 1530, sentence was pa.s.sed in 1531;[1132] we shall see Pet.i.t again in his prison. He left it, indeed, but only to sink under the cruel treatment he had there experienced.

[1132] Ibid. p. 312.

[Sidenote: BILNEY RECOVERS FROM HIS FALL.]

Thus were the witnesses to the truth struck down by the priests, by Sir Thomas More, and by Henry VIII. A new victim was to be the cause of many tears. A meek and humble man, one dear to all the friends of the gospel, and whom we may regard as the spiritual father of the Reformation in England was on the point of mounting the burning pile raised by his persecutors. Some time prior to Pet.i.t's appearance before his judges, which took place in 1531, an unusual noise was heard in the cell above him; it was Thomas Bilney whom they were conducting to the Tower.[1133] We left him at the end of 1528, after his fall. Bilney had returned to Cambridge tormented by remorse; his friends in vain crowded round him by night and by day; they could not console him, and even the Scriptures seemed to utter no voice but that of condemnation.[1134] Fear made him tremble constantly, and he could scarcely eat or drink. At length a heavenly and unexpected light dawned in the heart of the fallen disciple; a witness whom he had vexed--the Holy Spirit--spoke once more in his heart. Bilney fell at the foot of the cross, shedding floods of tears, and there he found peace. But the more G.o.d comforted him, the greater seemed his crime.

One only thought possessed him, that of giving his life for the truth.

He had shrunk from before the burning pile; its flames must now consume him. Neither the weakness of his body, which his long anguish had much increased, nor the cruelty of his enemies, nor his natural timidity, nothing could stop him: he strove for the martyr's crown. At ten o'clock one night, when every person in Trinity Hall was retiring to rest, Bilney called his friends round him, reminded them of his fall, and added: "You shall see me no more.... Do not stay me: my decision is formed, and I shall carry it out. My face is set to go to Jerusalem."[1135] Bilney repeated the words used by the evangelist, when he describes Jesus going up to the city where he was to be put to death. Having shaken hands with his brethren, this venerable man, the foremost of the evangelists of England in order of time, left Cambridge under cover of the night, and proceeded to Norfolk, to confirm in the faith those who had believed, and to invite the ignorant mult.i.tude to the Saviour. We shall not follow him in this last and solemn ministry; these facts and others of the same kind belong to a later date. Before the year 1531 closed in, Bilney, Bainham, Bayfield, Tewkesbury, and many others, struck by Henry's sword, sealed by their blood the testimony rendered by them to the perfect grace of Christ.

[1133] Strype, i, p. 313.

[1134] He thought that all the while the Scriptures were against him.

Latimer's Sermons, p. 52.

[1135] Foxe, iv. p. 642. See Luke ix, 51.

CHAPTER XVI.

Wolsey's Terror--Impeachment by the Peers--Cromwell saves him--The Cardinal's Illness--Ambition returns to him--His Practices in Yorkshire--He is arrested by Northumberland--His departure--Arrival of the Constable of the Tower--Wolsey at Leicester Abbey--Persecuting Language--He dies--Three Movements: Supremacy Scripture, and Faith.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S TERROR.]

While many pious Christians were languishing in the prisons of England, the great antagonist of the Reformation was disappearing from the stage of this world. We must return to Wolsey, who was still detained at Esher.[1136]

[1136] Burnet and some more modern historians are, in my opinion, mistaken when they state that Wolsey was present in parliament at the close of 1529. See State Papers, i. p. 347, 351.

The cardinal, fallen from the summit of honours, was seized with those panic-terrors usually felt after their disgrace by those who have made a whole nation tremble, and he fancied an a.s.sa.s.sin lay hid behind every door. "This very night," he wrote to Cromwell on one occasion, "I was as one that should have died. If I might, I would not fail to come on foot to you, rather than this my speaking with you shall be put over and delayed. If the displeasure of my Lady Anne be somewhat a.s.suaged, as I pray G.o.d the same may be, then I pray you exert all possible means of attaining her favour."[1137]

[1137] State Papers, vol. 1. p. 351, mutilated by fire.

In consequence of this, Cromwell hastened down to Esher two or three days after taking his seat in parliament, and Wolsey, all trembling, recounted his fears to him. "Norfolk, Suffolk, and Lady Anne perhaps, desire my death.[1138] Did not Thomas a Becket, an archbishop like me, stain the altar with his blood?"... Cromwell rea.s.sured him, and, moved by the old man's fears, asked and obtained of Henry an order of protection.

[1138] Timebat sibi d.a.m.num et periculum de corpore suo per quosdam suos aemulos. (Rymer, Fdera, p. 139.) He feared loss and bodily injury at the hands of some of his rivals.

[Sidenote: GRIEVANCES OF THE PEERS AGAINST WOLSEY.]

Wolsey's enemies most certainly desired his death; but it was from the justice of the three estates, and not by the a.s.sa.s.sin's dagger that they sought it. The House of Peers authorized Sir Thomas More, the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, and fourteen other lords, to impeach the cardinal-legate of high treason. They forgot nothing: that haughty formula, _Ego et rex meus_, I and my king, which Wolsey had often employed; his infringement of the laws of the kingdom; his monopolizing the church revenues; the crying injustice of which he had been guilty,--as, for instance, in the case of Sir John Stanley, who was sent to prison until he gave up a lease to the son of a woman who had borne the cardinal two children; many families ruined to satisfy his avarice; treaties concluded with foreign powers without the king's order; his exactions, which had impoverished England; and the foul diseases and infectious breath with which he had polluted his majesty's presence.[1139] These were some of the forty-four grievances presented by the peers to the king, and which Henry sent down to the lower house for their consideration.

[1139] Article vi. Herbert, p. 295.

It was at first thought that n.o.body in the commons would undertake Wolsey's defence, and it was generally expected that he would be given up to the vengeance of the law (as the bill of impeachment prayed), or, in other words, to the axe of the executioner. But one man stood up, and prepared, though alone, to defend the cardinal: this was Cromwell. The members asked of each other who the unknown man was; he soon made himself known. His knowledge of facts, his familiarity with the laws, the force of his eloquence, and the moderation of his language, surprised the house. Wolsey's adversaries had hardly aimed a blow before the defender had already parried it. If any charge was brought forward to which he could not reply, he proposed an adjournment until the next day, departed for Esher at the end of the sitting, conferred with Wolsey, returned during the night, and next morning reappeared in the commons with fresh arms. Cromwell carried the house with him; the impeachment failed, and Wolsey's defender took his station among the statesmen of England. This victory, one of the greatest triumphs of parliamentary eloquence at that period, satisfied both the ambition and the grat.i.tude of Cromwell. He was now firmly fixed in the king's favour, esteemed by the commons, and admired by the people: circ.u.mstances which furnished him with the means of bringing to a favourable conclusion the emanc.i.p.ation of the church of England.

[Sidenote: HENRY'S PRESENT TO WOLSEY.]

The ministry, composed of Wolsey's enemies, was annoyed at the decision of the lower house, and appointed a commission to examine into the matter. When the cardinal was informed of this he fell into new terrors. He lost all appet.i.te and desire of sleep,[1140] and a fever attacked him at Christmas. "The cardinal will be dead in four days," said his physician to Henry, "if he receives no comfort shortly from you and Lady Anne."--"I would not loose him for twenty thousand pounds," exclaimed the king. He desired to preserve Wolsey in case his old minister's consummate ability should become necessary, which was by no means unlikely. Henry gave the doctor his portrait in a ring, and Anne, at the king's desire, added the tablet of gold that hung at her girdle. The delighted cardinal placed the presents on his bed, and as he gazed on them he felt his strength return. He was removed from his miserable dwelling at Esher to the royal palace at Richmond; and before long he was able to go into the park, where every night he read his breviary.

[1140] c.u.m prostratione appet.i.tus et continuo insomnio. (Wolsey to Gardiner; Cavendish, Appendix, p. 474.) With loss of appet.i.te and continual want of sleep.

Ambition and hope returned with life. If the king desired to destroy the papal power in England, could not the proud cardinal preserve it.

Might not Thomas Wolsey do under Henry VIII what Thomas a Becket had done under Henry II. His see of York, the ignorance of the priests, the superst.i.tion of the people, the discontent of the great,--all would be of service to him; and indeed, six years later, 40,000 men were under arms in a moment in Yorkshire to defend the cause of Rome.

Wolsey, strong in England by the support of the nation, (such, at least was his opinion,) aided without by the pope and the continental powers, might give the law to Henry and crush the Reformation.

The king having permitted him to go to York, Wolsey prayed for an increase to his archiepiscopal revenues, which amounted, however, to four thousand pounds sterling.[1141] Henry granted him a thousand marks, and the cardinal, shortly before Easter 1530, departed with a train of 160 persons. He thought it was the beginning of his triumph.

[1141] State Papers. vol. i. p. 354.

Wolsey took up his abode at Cawood Castle, Yorkshire, one of his archiepiscopal residences, and strove to win the affections of the people. This prelate, once "the haughtiest of men," says George Cavendish, the man who knew him and served him best, became quite a pattern of affability. He kept an open table, distributed bounteous alms at his gate, said ma.s.s in the village-churches, went and dined with the neighbouring gentry, gave splendid entertainments, and wrote to several princes imploring their help. We are a.s.sured that he even requested the pope to excommunicate Henry VIII.[1142] All being thus prepared, he thought he might make his solemn entry into York, preparatory to his enthronization, which was fixed for Monday the 5th of November.

[1142] Hall, p. 773.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY IS ARRESTED BY NORTHUMBERLAND.]

Every movement of his was known at court; every action was canva.s.sed, and its importance exaggerated. "We thought we had brought him down,"

some said, "and here he is rising up again." Henry himself was alarmed. "The cardinal, by his detestable intrigues," he said, "is conspiring against my crown, and plotting both at home and abroad;"

the king even added, _where_ and _how_.[1143] Wolsey's destruction was resolved upon.

[1143] Cosi mi disse el Re, che contra de S. M. el machinava nel regno e fuori, et m'a detto dove e come. Le Grand, Preuves. p. 529.

The morning after All Saints day (Friday, 2nd November), the earl of Northumberland, attended by a numerous escort, arrived at Cawood, where the cardinal was still residing. He was the same Percy whose affection for Anne Boleyn had been thwarted by Wolsey; and there may have been design in Henry's choice. The cardinal eagerly moved forward to meet this unexpected guest, and, impatient to know the object of his mission, took him into his bedchamber, under the pretence of changing his travelling dress.[1144] They both remained some time standing at a window without uttering a word; the earl looked confused and agitated, whilst Wolsey endeavoured to repress his emotion. But at last, with a strong effort, Northumberland laid his hand upon the arm of his former master, and with a low voice said: "My lord, I arrest you for high treason." The cardinal remained speechless, as if stunned. He was kept a prisoner in his room.

[1144] And there you may shift your apparel. Cavendish, p. 347.

It is doubtful whether Wolsey was guilty of the crime with which he was charged. We may believe that he entertained the idea of some day bringing about the triumph of the popedom in England, even should it cause Henry's ruin; but perhaps this was all. But, an idea is not a conspiracy, although it may rapidly expand into one.

[Sidenote: WOLSEY PREACHES PERSECUTION.]

More than three thousand persons (attracted, not by hatred, like the Londoners, when Wolsey departed from Whitehall, but by enthusiasm) collected the next day before the castle to salute the cardinal. "G.o.d save your grace!" they shouted on every side, and a numerous crowd escorted him at night; some carried torches in their hands, and all made the air re-echo with their cries. The unhappy prelate was conducted to Sheffield Park, the residence of the earl of Shrewsbury.

Some days after his arrival, the faithful Cavendish ran to him, exclaiming: "Good news, my lord! Sir William Kingston and twenty-four of the guard are come to escort you to his majesty."--"Kingston!"

exclaimed the cardinal, turning pale, "Kingston!" and then, slapping his hand on his thigh, he heaved a deep sigh. This news had crushed his mind. One day a fortune-teller, whom he consulted, had told him: "_you shall have your end at Kingston_;" and from that time the cardinal had carefully avoided the town of Kingston-on-Thames. But now he thought he understood the prophecy.... Kingston, constable of the Tower, was about to cause his death. They left Sheffield Park; but fright had given Wolsey his death-blow. Several times he was near falling from his mule, and on the third day, when they reached Leicester Abbey, he said as he entered: "Father abbot, I am come hither to leave my bones among you;" and immediately took to his bed.

This was on Sat.u.r.day the 26th of November.

On Monday morning, tormented by gloomy forebodings, Wolsey asked what was the time of day. "Past eight o'clock," replied Cavendish.--"That cannot be," said the cardinal, "eight o'clock.... No! for by eight o'clock you shall lose your master." At six on Tuesday, Kingston having come to inquire about his health, Wolsey said to him: "I shall not live long."--"Be of good cheer," rejoined the governor of the Tower.--"Alas, Master Kingston", exclaimed the cardinal, "if I had served G.o.d as diligently as I have served the king, he would not have given me over in my gray hairs!" and then he added with downcast head: "This is my just reward." What a judgment upon his own life!

On the very threshold of eternity (for he had but a few minutes more to live) the cardinal summoned up all his hatred against the Reformation, and made a last effort. The persecution was too slow to please him: "Master Kingston," he said, "attend to my last request: tell the king that I conjure him in G.o.d's name to destroy this new pernicious sect of Lutherans." And then, with astonishing presence of mind in this his last hour, Wolsey described the misfortunes which the Hussites had, in his opinion, brought upon Bohemia; and then, coming to England, he recalled the times of Wickliffe and Sir John Oldcastle.

He grew animated; his dying eyes yet shot forth fiery glances. He trembled lest Henry VIII, unfaithful to the pope, should hold out his hand to the reformers. "Master Kingston," said he, in conclusion, "the king should know that if he tolerates heresy, G.o.d will take away his power, and we shall then have mischief upon mischief ... barrenness, scarcity, and disorder to the utter destruction of this realm."

[Sidenote: WOLSEY'S CHARACTER.]