Chapter IX

THE KING OF ENGLAND RECOGNIZED AS HEAD OF THE CHURCH.
(JANUARY TO MARCH 1531.)

Henry VIII. desired to introduce great changes into the ecclesiastical corporation of his kingdom. His royal power had much to bear from the power of the clergy. It was the same in all Catholic monarchies; but England had more to complain of than others. Of the three estates, Clergy, Nobility, and Commons, the first was the most powerful. The nobility had been weakened by the civil wars; the commons had long been without authority and energy; the prelates thus occupied the first rank, so that in 1529 an archbishop and cardinal (Wolsey) was the most powerful man in England, not even the king excepted. Henry had felt the yoke, and wished to free himself, not only from the domination of the pope, but also from the influence of the higher clergy. If he had only intended to be avenged of the pontiff, it would have been enough to allow the Reformation to act; when a mighty wind blows from heaven, it sweeps away all the contrivances of men. But Henry was deficient neither in prudence nor calculation. He feared lest a diversity of doctrine should engender disturbances in his kingdom. He wished to free himself from the pope and the prelates, without throwing himself into the arms of Tyndale or of Latimer.

[Sidenote: Papal Rule Hurtful To The State.]

Kings and people had observed that the domination of the papacy, and its authority over the clergy, were an insurmountable obstacle to the autonomy of the State. As far back as 1268, St. Louis had declared that France owed allegiance to God alone; and other princes had followed his example. Henry VIII. determined to do more—to break the chains which bound the clergy to the Romish throne, and fasten them to the crown. The power of England, delivered from the papacy, which had been its cankerworm, would then be developed with freedom and energy, and would place the country in the foremost rank among nations. The renovating spirit of the age was favorable to Henry’s plans; without delay he must put into execution the bold plan which Cromwell had unrolled before his eyes in Whitehall Park. Henry could think of nothing but getting himself recognized as head of the Church.

This important revolution could not be accomplished by a simple act of royal authority—in England particularly, where constitutional principles already possessed an incontestable influence. It was necessary to prevail upon the clergy to cross the Rubicon by emancipating themselves from Rome. But how bring it about? This was the subject of the meditations of the sagacious Cromwell, who, gradually rising in the king’s confidence to the place formerly held by Wolsey, made a different use of it. Urged by ambition, possessing an energetic character, a sound judgment, unshaken firmness, no obstacle could arrest his activity. He sought how he could give the king the spiritual sceptre, and this was the plan on which he fixed. The kings of England had been known occasionally to revive old laws fallen into desuetude, and visit with heavy penalties those who had violated them. Cromwell represented to the king that the statutes made punishable any man who should recognize a dignity established by the pope in the English Church; that Wolsey, by exercising the functions of papal legate, had encroached upon the rights of the Crown and been condemned, which was but justice; while the members of the clergy—who had recognized the unlawful jurisdiction of the pretended legate—had thereby become as guilty as he had been. ‘The statute of _Præmunire_,’ he said, ‘condemns them as well as their chief.’ Henry, who listened attentively, found the expedient of his Secretary of State was in conformity with the letter of the law, and that it put all the clergy in his power. He did not hesitate to give full power to his ministers. Under such a state of things there was not one innocent person in England; the two houses of parliament, the privy council, all the nation must be brought to the bar. Henry, full of ‘condescension,’ was pleased to confine himself to the clergy.

[Sidenote: Embarrassment Of The Clergy.]

The convocation of the province of Canterbury having met on the 7th of January, 1531, Cromwell entered the hall, and quietly took his seat among the bishops; then rising, he informed them that their property and benefices were to be confiscated for the good of his Majesty, because they had submitted to the unconstitutional power of the cardinal. What terrible news! It was a thunderbolt to those selfish prelates; they were amazed. At length some of them plucked up a little courage. ‘The king himself had sanctioned the authority of the cardinal-legate,’ they said. ‘We merely obeyed his supreme will. Our resistance to his Majesty’s proclamations would infallibly have ruined us.’—‘That is of no consequence,’ was the reply; ‘there was the law: you should obey the constitution of the country even at the peril of your lives.’[109] The terrified bishops laid at the foot of the throne a magnificent sum, by which they hoped to redeem their offences and their benefices. But that was not what Henry desired: he pretended to set little store by their money. The threat of confiscation must constrain them to pay a ransom of still greater value. ‘My lords,’ said Cromwell, ‘in a petition that some of you presented to the pope not long ago, you called the king your _soul_ and your _head_.[110] Come, then, expressly recognize the supremacy of the king over the Church,[111] and his majesty, of his great goodness, will grant you your pardon.’ What a demand! The distracted clergy assembled, and a deliberation of extreme importance began. ‘The words in the address to the pope,’ said some, ‘were a mere form, and had not the meaning ascribed to them.’—‘The king being unable to untie the Gordian knot at Rome,’ said others, alluding to the divorce, ‘intends to cut it with his sword.’[112]—‘The secular power,’ exclaimed the most zealous, ‘has no voice in ecclesiastical matters. To recognize the king as head of the Church would be to overthrow the catholic faith.... The head of the Church is the pope.’ The debate lasted three days, and, as Henry’s ministers pointed to the theocratic government of Israel, a priest exclaimed, ‘We oppose the New Testament to the Old; according to the gospel, Christ is head of the Church.’ When this was told the king, he said, ‘Very well, I consent. If you declare me _head of the Church_ you may add _under God_.’ In this way the papal claims were compromised all the more. ‘We will expose ourselves to everything,’ they said, ‘rather than dethrone the Roman pontiff.’

The Bishops of Lincoln and Exeter were deputed to beseech the king to withdraw his demand: they could not so much as obtain an audience. Henry had made up his mind: the priests must yield. The only means of their obtaining pardon (they were told) was by their renouncing the papal supremacy. The bishops made a fresh attempt to satisfy both the requirements of the king and those of their own conscience. ‘Shrink before the clergy and they are lions,’ the courtiers said; ‘withstand them and they are sheep.’—‘Your fate is in your own hands. If you refuse the king’s demand, the disgrace of Wolsey may show you what you may expect.’ Archbishop Warham, president of the Convocation, a prudent man, far advanced in years, and near his end, tried to hit upon some compromise. The great movements which agitated the Church all over Europe disturbed him. He had in times past complained to the king of Wolsey’s usurpations,[113] and was not far from recognizing the royal supremacy. He proposed to insert a simple clause in the act conferring the required jurisdiction on the king, namely, _Quantum per legem Christi licet_, so far as the law of Christ permits. ‘Mother of God!’ exclaimed the king, who, like his royal brother Francis I., had a habit of saying irreverent things, ‘you have played me a shrewd turn. I thought to have made fools of those prelates, and now you have so ordered the business that they are likely to make a fool of me. Go to them again, and let me have the business passed without any _quantums_ or _tantums_.... So far as the law of Christ permits! Such a reserve would make one believe that my authority was disputable.’[114]

[Sidenote: The Clergy Submit.]

Henry’s ministers ventured on this occasion to resist him: they showed him that this clause would prevent an immediate rupture with Rome, and it might be repealed hereafter. He yielded at last, and the archbishop submitted the clause with the amendment to convocation. It was a solemn moment for England. The bishops were convinced that the king was asking them to do what was wrong, the end of which would be a rupture with Rome. In the time of Hildebrand the prelates would have answered No, and found a sympathetic support in the laity. But things had changed; the people were beginning to be weary of the long domination of the priests. The primate, desirous of ending the matter, said to his colleagues: ‘Do you recognize the king as sole protector of the Church and clergy of England, and, so far as is allowed by the law of Christ, also as your supreme head?’ All remained speechless. ‘Will you let me know your opinions?’ resumed the archbishop. There was a dead silence. ‘Whoever is silent seems to consent,’ said the primate.—‘Then we are all silent,’ answered one of the members.[115] Were these words inspired by courage or by cowardice? Were they an assent or a protest? We cannot say. In this matter we cannot side either with the king or with the priests. The heart of man easily takes the part of those who are oppressed; but here the oppressed were also oppressors. Convocation next gave its support to the opinion of the universities respecting the divorce, and thus Henry gained his first victory.

Now that the king had the power, the clergy were permitted to give him their money. They offered a hundred thousand pounds sterling,—an enormous sum for those times,—nearly equivalent to fifteen times as much of our money. On the 22d of March, 1531, the courteous archbishop signed the document which at one stroke deprived the clergy of England of both riches and honor.[116]

The discussion was still more animated in the Convocation of York. ‘If you proclaim the king supreme head,’ said Bishop Tonstal, ‘it can only be in temporal matters.’—‘Indeed!’ retorted Henry’s minister, ‘is an act of convocation necessary to determine that the king reigns?‘—‘If spiritual things are meant,’ answered the bishop, ‘I withdraw from convocation that I may not withdraw from the Church.’[117]

‘My lords,’ said Henry, ‘no one disputes your right to preach and administer the sacraments.[118] Did not Paul submit to Cæsar’s tribunal, and our Saviour himself to Pilate’s?’ Henry’s ecclesiastical theories prevailed also at York. A great revolution was effected in England, and fresh compromises were to consolidate it.

The king, having obtained what he desired, condescended in his great mercy to pardon the clergy for their unpardonable offence of having recognized Wolsey as papal legate. At the request of the commons this amnesty was extended to all England. The nation, which at first saw nothing in this affair but an act enfranchising themselves from the usurped power of the popes, showed their gratitude to Henry; but there was a reverse to the medal. If the pope was despoiled, the king was invested. Was not the function ascribed to him contrary to the Gospel? Would not this act impress upon the Anglican Reformation a territorial and aristocratic character, which would introduce into the Reformed Church the world with all its splendor and wealth? If the royal preëminence endows the Anglican Church with the pomps of worship, of classical studies, of high dignities, will it not also carry along with it luxury, sinecures, and worldliness among the prelates? Shall we not see the royal authority pronounce on questions of dogma, and declare the most sacred doctrines indifferent? A little later an attempt was made to limit the power of the king in religious matters. ‘We give not to our princes the ministry of God’s Word or sacraments,’ says the thirty-seventh Article of Religion.

Footnote 109:

‘They ought to take notice of the constitution at their
peril.’—Collyers, ii. p. 61. Burnet, p. 108.

Footnote 110:

‘Regia majestas nostrum caput atque anima.’—Collyers, _Records_, p. 8,
30 July, 1530.

Footnote 111:

‘Ecclesiæ protector et supremum caput.’—Collyers, ii. p. 62.

Footnote 112:

‘Seeing this Gordian knot, to play the noble Alexander.’—Foxe, _Acts_,
v. p. 55.

Footnote 113:

Strype’s _Memorials_, i. p. 111.

Footnote 114:

Tytler, _Life of Henry VIII._, p. 312.

Footnote 115:

‘Qui tacet consentire videtur. Itaque tacemus omnes.’—Collyers, p. 63.

Footnote 116:

The act is given in Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 742, and Rymer,
_Fœdera_, vi. p. 163.

Footnote 117:

‘Ne ab ecclesia catholica dissentire videar, expresse
dissentio.’—Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 745.

Footnote 118:

Collyers, ii. p. 64.