Chapter XVI

THE NEW PRIMATE OF ALL ENGLAND.
(FEBRUARY 1532 TO MARCH 1533.)

A man who for more than thirty years had had an important voice in the management of the ecclesiastical affairs of the kingdom now disappeared from the scene to give place to the most influential of the reformers of England. Warham, Archbishop of Canterbury, a learned canonist, a skilful politician, a dexterous courtier, and the friend of letters, had made it his special work to exalt the sacerdotal prerogative, and to that end had had recourse to the surest means, by fighting against the idleness, ignorance, and corruption of the priests. He had even hoped for a reform of the clergy, provided it emanated from episcopal authority. But when he saw another reformation accomplished in the name of God’s Word, without priests and against the priests, he turned round and began to persecute the reformers, and to strengthen the papal authority. Alarmed at the proceedings of the Commons, he sent for three notaries, on the 24th February, 1532, and protested in their presence against every act of parliament derogatory to the authority of the Roman pontiff.[221]

[Sidenote: Death Of Warham.]

On the 22d August of the same year, just at the very height of the crisis, ‘the second pope,’ as he was sometimes called, was removed from his see by death, and the people anxiously wondered who would be appointed to his vacant place.

The choice was important, for the nomination might be the symbol of what the Church of England was to be. Would he be a prelate devoted to the pope, like Fisher; or a catholic favorable to the divorce, like Gardiner; or a moderate evangelical attached to the king, like Cranmer; or a decided reformer, like Latimer? At this moment, when a new era was beginning for Christendom, it was of consequence to know whom England would take for her guide; whether she would march at the head of civilization, like Germany, or bring up the rear, like Spain and Italy. The king did not favor either extreme, and hesitated between the two other candidates. All things considered, he had no confidence in such men as Longland and Gardiner, who might promise and not fulfil. He wanted somebody less political than the one and less fanatical than the other,—a man separated from the pope on principle, and not merely for convenience.

Cranmer, after passing a few months at Rome, had returned to England.[222] Then, departing again for Germany on a mission from the king, he had arrived at Nuremburg, probably in the autumn of 1531. He examined with interest that ancient city,—its beautiful churches, its monumental fountains, its old and picturesque castle; but there was something that attracted him more than all these things. Being present at the celebration of the sacrament, he noticed that while the priest was muttering the Gospel in Latin at the altar, the deacon went up into the pulpit, and read it aloud in German.[223] He saw that, although there was still some appearance of catholicism in Nuremburg, in reality the Gospel reigned there. One man’s name often came up in the conversations he had with the principal persons in the city. They spoke to him of Osiander as of a man of great eloquence.[224] Cranmer followed the crowd which poured into the church of St. Lawrence, and was struck with the minister’s talent and piety. He sought his acquaintance, and the two doctors had many a conversation together, either in Cranmer’s house or in Osiander’s study; and the German divine, being gained over to the cause of Henry VIII., published shortly after a book on unlawful marriages.

[Sidenote: Osiander’s Error.]

Cranmer, who had an affectionate heart, loved to join the simple meals, the pious devotions, and the friendly conversations at Osiander’s house: he was soon almost like a member of the family. But, although his intimacy with the Nuremburg pastor grew stronger every day, he did not adopt all his opinions. When Osiander told him that he must substitute the authority of Holy Scripture for that of Rome, Cranmer gave his full assent; but the Englishman perceived that the German entertained views different from Luther’s on the justification of the sinner. ‘What justifies us,’ he said, ‘is not the imputation of the merits of Christ by faith, but the inward communication of his righteousness.’ ‘Christ,’ said Cranmer, ‘has paid the price of our redemption by the sacrifice of his body and the fulfilling of the law; and if we heartily believe in this work which he has perfected, we are justified. The justified man must be sanctified, and must work good works; but it is not the works that justify him.’[225] The conversation of the two friends turned also upon the Lord’s Supper. Whatever may have been Cranmer’s doctrine before, he soon came (like Calvin) to place the real presence of Christ not in the wafer which the priest holds between his fingers, but in the heart of the believer.[226]

In June, 1532, the protestant and Roman-catholic delegates arrived at Nuremburg to arrange the religious peace. The celibacy of the clergy immediately became one of the points discussed. It appeared to the chiefs of the papacy impossible to concede that article. ‘Rather abolish the mass entirely,’ exclaimed the Archbishop of Mayence, ‘than permit the marriage of priests.’ ‘They must come to that at last,’ said Luther; ‘God is overthrowing the mighty from their seat.’[227] Cranmer was of his opinion. ‘It is better,’ he said, ‘for a minister to have his own wife than to have other men’s wives, like the priests.’[228] ‘What services may not a pious wife do for the pastor her husband,’ added Osiander, ‘among the poor, the women, and the children?’

Cranmer had lost his wife at Cambridge, and his heart yearned for affection. Osiander’s family presented him a touching picture of domestic happiness. One of its members was a niece of Osiander’s wife.[229] Cranmer, charmed with her piety and candor, and hoping to find in her the virtuous woman who is a crown to her husband, asked her hand and married her, not heeding the unlawful command of those who ‘forbid to marry.’[230]

Still Cranmer did not forget his mission. The King of England was desirous of forming an alliance with the German protestants, and his agent made overtures to the electoral prince of Saxony. ‘First of all,’ answered the pious John Frederick, ‘the two kings (of France and England) must be in harmony with us as to the articles of faith.’[231] The alliance failed; but at the same moment, affairs took an unexpected turn. The emperor, who was marching against Solyman, desired the help of the King of England, and Granvelle had some talk with Cranmer on the subject. The latter was procuring carriages, horses, boats, tents, and other things necessary for his journey, with the intention of rejoining the emperor at Lintz, when a courier suddenly brought him orders to return to London.[232] It was very vexatious. Just as he was on the point of concluding an alliance with the nephew of Queen Catherine, in which the matter of the divorce would consequently be arranged, Henry’s envoy had to give up everything. He wondered anxiously what could be the motive of this sudden and extraordinary recall. The letters of his friends explained it.

[Sidenote: Cranmer’s Hesitation.]

Warham was dead, and the king thought of Cranmer to succeed him as Archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all England. The reformer was greatly moved: ‘Alas,’ he exclaimed, ‘no man has ever desired a bishopric less than myself.[233] If I accept it, I must resign the delights of study and the calm sweetness of an obscure condition.’[234] Knowing Henry’s domineering character and his peculiar religious principles, Cranmer thought that with him the reformation of England was impossible. He saw himself exposed to disputes without end: there would be no more peace for the most peaceable of men. A brilliant career, an exalted position—he was terrified. ‘My conscience,’ he said, ‘rebels against this call. Wretch that I am! I see nothing but troubles and conflicts and insurmountable dangers in my path.’

Upon mature reflection, Cranmer thought he might get out of his difficulty by gaining time, hoping that the king, who did not like delays, would doubtless give the see to another.[235] He sent an answer that important affairs prevented his return to England. Solyman had retreated before the emperor; the latter had determined to pass through Italy to Spain, and had appointed a meeting with the pope at Piacenza or Genoa. Henry’s ambassador thought it his duty to neutralize the fatal consequences of this interview; and Charles having left Vienna on the 4th of October, Cranmer followed him two days later. The exalted dignity that awaited him oppressed him like the nightmare. On his road he found neither inhabitants nor food, and hay was his only bed.[236] Sometimes he crossed battle-fields covered with the carcasses of Turks and Christians. A comet appeared in the east foreboding some tragic event. Many declared they had seen a flaming sword in the heavens. ‘These strange signs,’ he wrote to Henry,’announce some great mutation.’[237] Cranmer and his colleagues could not gain the pope to their side. Several months passed away, during which men’s minds became so excited, that the cardinals forgot all decorum. ‘Alas!’ says a catholic historian, ‘all the time this affair continued, they went to the consistory as if they were going to a play.’[238] Charles V. prevailed at last.

Then came that famous interview (October 1532) between the kings of France and England at Calais and Boulogne, which we have described elsewhere;[239] and the two princes having come to an understanding, Henry thought seriously of bringing the matter to an end. Did he marry Anne Boleyn at that time? Everything seems to point in that direction; and if we are to believe some of the most trustworthy historians, the marriage took place in the following month of November.[240] Perhaps it was quite a private wedding, the legal formalities not being completed. Contemporary testimony is at variance, and the point has not been cleared up. In any case, Henry determined to wait before making the marriage public. The conference the pope was about to hold at Bologna with the ambassador of Francis I.; the probability of an interview between the king of France and the pontiff at Marseilles, which might give a new aspect to the great affair; and perhaps the desire to confer about it with Cranmer, for whom he destined the see of Canterbury—seem to have induced the prince to defer the ceremony for a few weeks. He lost no time, however, in summoning the future primate to London.

A report having circulated in Italy, that the king was about to place Cranmer at the head of the English Church, the imperial court treated him with unusual consideration. Charles V., his ministers, and the foreign ambassadors, said openly that such a man richly deserved to hold a high place in the favor and government of the king his master.[241] About the middle of November, the emperor gave Cranmer his farewell audience; and the latter arrived in England not long after. Not wishing to act in opposition to general usage and clerical opinion, he thought it more prudent to leave his wife for a time with Osiander. He sent for her somewhat later, but she was never presented at court. It was not necessary, and it might only have embarrassed the pious German lady.

[Sidenote: Cranmer And The King.]

As soon as Cranmer reached London, he waited upon the king, being quite engrossed in thinking of what was about to take place between his sovereign and himself. Henry went straight to the point: he told him that he had nominated him Archbishop of Canterbury. Cranmer objected, but the king would take no refusal. In vain did the divine urge his reasons: the monarch was firm. It was no slight matter to contend with Henry VIII. Cranmer was alarmed at the effect produced by his resistance. ‘Your Highness,’ he said, ‘I most humbly implore your Grace’s pardon.’[242]

When he left the king, he hurried off to his friends, particularly to Cromwell. The burden which Henry was laying upon him seemed more insupportable than ever. Knowing how difficult it is to resist a prince of despotic character, he foresaw conflicts and perhaps compromises, which would embitter his life, and he could not make up his mind to sacrifice his happiness to the imperious will of the monarch. ‘Take care,’ said his friends, ‘it is as dangerous to refuse a favor from so absolute a prince as to insult him.’ But Cranmer’s conscience was concerned in his refusal. ‘I feel something within me,’ he said,[243] ‘which rebels against the supremacy of the pope, and all the superstitions to which I should have to submit as primate of England. No, I will not be a bishop!’ He might sacrifice his repose and his happiness, expose himself to painful struggles; but to recognize the pope and submit to his jurisdiction was an insurmountable obstacle. His friends shook their heads. ‘Your _nolo episcopari_,’ they said, ‘will not hold against our master’s _volo te episcopum esse_.[244] And after all, what is it? Permitting the king to place you at the summit of honors and power.... You refuse all that men desire.’ ‘I would sooner forfeit my life,’ answered Cranmer, ‘than do anything against my conscience to gratify my ambition.’[245]

Henry vexed at these delays, again summoned Cranmer to the palace, and bade him speak without fear. ‘If I accept this office,’ replied that sincere man, ‘I must receive it from the hands of the pope, and this my conscience will not permit me to do.... Neither the pope nor any other foreign prince has authority in this realm.’[246] Such a reason as this had great weight with Henry. He was silent for a little while as if reflecting,[247] and then said to Cranmer: ‘Can you prove what you have just said?’ ‘Certainly I can,’ answered the doctor; ‘Holy Scripture and the Fathers support the supreme authority of kings in their kingdoms, and thus prove the claims of the pope to be a miserable usurpation.’

Such a statement bound Henry to take another step in his reforms. As he had not yet thought of establishing bishops and archbishops without the pope, he sent for some learned lawyers, and asked them how he could confer the episcopal dignity on Cranmer without wounding the conscience of the future primate. The lawyers proposed, that as Cranmer refused to submit to the Roman primacy, some one should be sent to Rome to do in his stead all that the law required. ‘Let another do it if he likes,’ said Cranmer, ‘but _super animam suam_, at the risk of his soul. As for me I declare I will not acknowledge the authority of the pope any further than it agrees with the Word of God; and that I reserve the right of speaking against him and of attacking his errors.’

The lawyers found bad precedents to justify a bad measure. ‘Archbishop Warham,’ they said, ‘while preserving the advantages he derived from the state, protested against everything the state did prejudicial to Rome. If the deceased archbishop preserved the rights of the papacy, why should not the new one preserve those of the kingdom?... Besides (they added) the pope knows very well that when they make oath to him, every bishop does so _salvo ordine meo_, without prejudice to the rights of his order.’[248]

It having been conceded that in the act of consecration ‘the rights of the word of God’ should be reserved, Cranmer consented to become primate of England. Henry VIII., who was less advanced in practice than in theory, all the same demanded of Clement VII. the bulls necessary for the inauguration of the new archbishop. The pontiff only too happy to have still something to say to England, hastened to dispatch them, addressing them directly to Cranmer himself. But the latter who would accept nothing from the pope, sent them to the king, declaring that he would not receive his appointment from Rome.[249]

[Sidenote: Cranmer’s Protest.]

By accepting the call that was addressed to him, Cranmer meant to break with the order of the Middle Ages, and re-establish, so far as was in his power, that of the Gospel. But he would not conceal his intentions: all must be done in the light of day. On the 30th of March, 1533, he summoned to the chapter-house of Westminster Watkins, the king’s prothonotary, with other dignitaries of the Church and State. On entering, he took up a paper, and read aloud and distinctly: ‘I, Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, protest openly, publicly, and expressly,[250] that I will not bind myself by oath to anything contrary to the law of God, the rights of the King of England, and the laws of the realm; and that I will not be bound in aught that concerns liberty of speech, the government of the Church of England, and the reformation of all things that may seem to be necessary to be reformed therein. If my representative with the pope has taken in my name an oath contrary to my duty, I declare that he has done so without my knowledge, and that the said oath shall be null. I desire this protest to be repeated at each period of the present ceremony.’[251] Then turning to the prothonotary: ‘I beg you to prepare as many copies as may be necessary of this my protest.’

Cranmer left the chapter-house and entered the abbey, where the clergy and a numerous crowd awaited him. He was not satisfied with once declaring his independence of the papacy; he desired to do it several times. The greater the antiquity of the Romish power in Britain, the more he felt the necessity of proclaiming the supremacy of the divine Word. Having put on his sacerdotal robes, Cranmer stood at the top of the steps of the high altar, and said, turning towards the assembly: ‘I declare that I take the oath required of me only under the reserve contained in the protest I have made this day in the chapter-house.’ Then bending his knees before the altar, he read it a second time in presence of the bishops, priests, and people;[252] after which the bishops of Lincoln, Exeter, and St. Asaph consecrated him to the episcopate.

The archbishop, standing before the altar, prepared to receive the pallium, but first he had a duty to fulfil: if he sacrificed his repose, he did not intend to sacrifice his convictions. For the third time he took up the protest, and again read it[253] before the immense crowd that filled the cathedral.[254] The accustomed order of the ceremony having been twice interrupted by an extraordinary declaration, all were at liberty to praise or blame the action of the prelate as they pleased. Cranmer having thus thrice published his reserves, read at last the oath which the Archbishops of Canterbury were accustomed to make to St. Peter and to the holy apostolic Church of Rome, with the usual protest: _salvo meo ordine_ (without prejudice to my order).

Cranmer’s triple protest was an act of Christian decision. Some time afterwards he said: ‘I made that protest in good faith: I always loved simplicity and hated falseness.’ But it was wrong of him to use after it the formula ordinarily employed in consecrations. Doubtless it was nothing more than a form; a form that was imposed by the king, and Cranmer protested against all the bad it might contain: still ‘it is necessary to walk consistently in all things,’ as Calvin says;[255] and we here meet with one of those weaknesses which sometimes appear in the life of the pious reformer of England. He ought at no price to have made oath to the pope; that oath was a stain which in some measure tinged the whole of his episcopate. Yet if we were to condemn him severely, we should be forgetting that striking truth—_in many things we offend all_. Cranmer was the first in the breach, and he has claims to the consideration of those who are comfortably established in a position gained by him with so much suffering. The energy with which he thrice proclaimed his independence deserves our admiration. Nevertheless all weakness is a fault, and when that fault is committed in high station it may lead to fatal consequences. The sanctity of the oath taken by churchmen was compromised by Cranmer’s act, and we have seen in later times other divines secretly communing with Romish doctrines while appearing to reject popery. There have sometimes been disguised papists in the protestant Church of England.

[Sidenote: Cranmer’s Labors.]

After the ceremony the new archbishop returned to his place at Lambeth. From that hour this patron of letters, a scholar himself, a truly pious man, a distinguished preacher, and of indefatigable industry, never ceased to labor for the good of the Church. He was able to introduce Christian faith into many hearts, and sometimes to defend it against the king’s ill-humor. He constantly endeavored to spread around him moderation, charity, truth, piety, and peace. When Cranmer became primate of all England, on the 30th of March, 1533, in that cathedral of Westminster, the burial-place of kings, the papal order was interred, and it might be foreseen that the apostolic order would be revived. England preserved episcopacy because it was the form under which she had received Christianity in the second century, and because she thought it necessary for the functions of inspection and government in the Church. But she rejected that Roman superstition which makes bishops the sole successors of the apostles, and maintains that they are invested with an indelible character and a spiritual power which no other minister possesses.[256] ‘Most assuredly,’ said Cranmer, ‘at the beginning of the religion of Christ, bishops and presbyters (priests) were not two things, but one only.’[257] He declared that a bishop was not necessary to make a pastor; that not only presbyters possessed this right, but ‘_the people also by their election_.’ ‘Before there were Christian princes, it was the people,’ he said, ‘who generally elected the bishops and priests.’ Cranmer was not the only man who professed these principles, which make of the episcopalian and the presbyterian constitution two varieties, having many things in common. The most venerable fathers of the Anglican Church—Pilkington, Coverdale, Whitgift, Fulke, Tyndale, Jewel, Bradford, Becon, and others—have acknowledged the identity of bishops and presbyters. By the Reformation, England belongs not to the papistical system of episcopacy, but to the evangelical system. A public act which would bring back that Church to her holy origin, would be a source of great prosperity to her.

The great reformers of England did not separate from Rome only, but also from the semi-catholicism that was intended to be substituted for it. To them the spirit and the life were in the ministry of the Word of God, and not in rites and ceremonies. By their noble example they have called all men of God to follow them.

Footnote 221:

‘Protestamur quod nolumus alicui statuto edito in derogationem Romani
pontificis consentire.’—Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p. 746.

Footnote 222:

There is a letter of his dated from Hampton Court, 12th June, 1531.

Footnote 223:

Cotton Ms., Vitellius, bk. xxi. p. 54.

Footnote 224:

‘Commendatus primoribus civitatis facundia sua.’—Camerarius
_Melanchthonis Vita_, p. 285.

Footnote 225:

‘It excludeth them from the office of justifying.’—_Homily of
Salvation._ Cranmer, _Works_, ii. p. 129 (Parker Soc.).

Footnote 226:

‘Christ is corporally in heaven and spiritually in his lively
members.’—Cranmer, _On the Lord’s Supper_, p. 33.

Footnote 227:

Lutheri _Opp._ xxii. p. 1808.

Footnote 228:

Cranmer, _Works_, p. 219 (Parker Soc.).

Footnote 229:

‘Hæc erat neptis uxoris Osiandri.’—Godwin, _Annales Angl._ p. 167.

Footnote 230:

1 Timothy iv. 3.

Footnote 231:

Seckendorf, _Hist. Lutheranismi_, 1532.

Footnote 232:

Cranmer, _Remains_, p. 232.

Footnote 233:

Cranmer, _Remains_, p. 332.

Footnote 234:

Foxe, _Acts_, viii. p. 65.

Footnote 235:

‘Thinking that he would be forgetful of me in the meantime.’—Cranmer,
_Remains_, p. 216.

Footnote 236:

‘I found in no town, man, woman, nor child, meat, drink, nor
bedding.’—Cranmer, _Remains_, p. 223.

Footnote 237:

Ibid, p. 225.

Footnote 238:

Le Grand, _Histoire du Divorce_, i. p. 229.

Footnote 239:

_History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century_, tom. ii. bk.
ii. ch. xxi.

Footnote 240:

This is the date given by Hall, _Chronicles_, fol. 209; Holinshed,
_Chronicles_, iii, p. 629; Strype, _Cranmer’s Mem._ p. 16; Collyers,
ii. p. 71. Others hesitate between November and January (1533);
Burnet, i. p. 121; Herbert, p. 369; Benger, p. 336, &c.

Footnote 241:

‘They judge him a man right worthy to be high in favor and authority
with his prince.’—_State Papers_ (Henry VIII.) vii. p. 391.

Footnote 242:

Foxe, _Acts_, viii. p. 66.

Footnote 243:

‘Aliquid intus.’

Footnote 244:

‘I am unwilling to be made a bishop.’ ‘I desire you to be a
bishop.’—Fuller, _Eccl. Hist._ bk. v. p. 184.

Footnote 245:

Foxe, _Acts_, viii. p. 66.

Footnote 246:

Cranmer, _Remains_, p. 223.

Footnote 247:

Ibid.

Footnote 248:

Bossuet makes this remark when speaking of Cranmer’s oath.—_Histoire
des Variations_, liv. vii. p. 11.

Footnote 249:

‘Quas bullas obtulit tum regi.’ Lambeth MS. No. 1136.

Footnote 250:

‘Palam et publice et expresse protestor.’—Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii. p.
757.

Footnote 251:

‘Quas protestationes in omnibus clausulis et sententiis dictorum
juramentorum repetitas et recitatas volo.’—Wilkins, _Concilia_, iii.
p. 757.

Footnote 252:

‘Eandem sedulam perlegit.’—Lambeth MS. No. 2106.

Footnote 253:

‘Qua protestatione per eundem reverendissimum tertio facta.’—Ibid.

Footnote 254:

‘In the presence of so much people as the church could hold.’—Card.
Pole.

Footnote 255:

‘Il faut marcher rondement en toutes choses.’

Footnote 256:

Concilium Tridentinum, Sessio prima.

Footnote 257:

Resolutions of certain bishops. Burnet, _Records_, bk. iii. art. 21;
Cranmer, _Remains_, p. 117.