Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

reflected by large plates of silver gilt. The viands and the wines equalled the decorations in richness and excellence; and the tenour of the entertainment was, to all appearance, such as to satisfy the most fastidious guests, and the most anxious and punctilious host. Yet while some envied and all admired the magnificence of the Cardinal, secret and corroding care filled his breast,-for the king danced with Anne Boleyn; and it was on this occasion that Du Bellay observed that public attention was first riveted upon the passion which Henry could not conceal, and which Wolsey I could not but dread. It was not long before the unfortunate minister received a full confirmation of all his fears; and the embarrassing question of the divorce was explicitly unfolded to him by the king. Long and earnest were the entreaties and arguments which Wolsey urged, to dissuade him from the project of paving the way to his marriage with Anne, by a divorce from the virtuous and respected Katharine, whose infirmities of constitution, and decline in personal charms, had far more influence in deciding her consort to adopt this measure, than the plausible, but equivocal plea of conscientious scruples concerning the validity of his marriage. The conduct of Wolsey throughout the whole affair of the divorce has been variously represented; but little can be pronounced with certainty upon his real opinions and motives. When the peculiar circumstances to which he was obliged to yield are considered, and the character of the monarch whom it was certain ruin to displease, is recollected, it is probable that, in the first stage of the business, the divorce was approved by Wolsey, and that his actions may have been influenced by enmity to the Emperor Charles, the nephew of the Queen, and his devotion to the interests of Francis, who desired an union between the Princess Renée, his sister-in-law, and the King of England. The most partial admirers of Wolsey cannot represent him with justice as a man rendered inaccessible, by a high sense of honour, to considerations of personal interest, or even of personal feelings. When the dispositions of Henry in the affair were developed, and when Wolsey tound, that, instead of strengthening his foreign connexions, he was assisting in the elevation of a domestic enemy, he was seized with consternation, and endeavoured, too late, to recede. He could not fail to

perceive what was obvious to a less interested observer, that whichever way the question terminated, it would involve his ruin.* Anne, whether raised triumphant to the throne, or dejected by defeat, would still remain his enemy; and Wolsey, who affirmed of the king that "he could never persuade him from his will and appetite," knew well the effects of female influence upon that susceptible, yet brutal monarch.

From this time the fate of Wolsey was decided, as far as it is permitted to human agents to determine the lot of a fellow-mortal. He sought, indeed, to avert the coming storm, and to throw all responsibility from his own shoulders, by an appeal to the English and foreign universities concerning the validity of the divorce; and he persuaded Henry to demand the opinions of the bishops on the momentous question. Unfortunately for Wolsey, each of these applications to clerical subserviency was favourable to the divorce; and Henry, emboldened by this partial success, rested not until he had obtained from Clement the Seventh a bull, empowering Cardinal Campeggio and Wolsey to hold a legatine court, in which the cause nearest his heart might be heard, and determined. The result of this proceeding hastened the ruin of Wolsey, and his conduct in the matter was never cordially forgiven by Henry. Averse, as a zealous, though liberal Catholic, from a process which impugned the validity of the papal dispensation, which at no very distant period had permitted Henry and Katharine to marry, Wolsey felt the strongest inclination to defer, or to decline the decision required from him and Campeggio; and at the close of the memorable and singular trial, he evinced the same disposition in which the validity of the marriage was argued. It was the lot of Wolsey to be obnoxious to both the parties by which the court and country were at this time divided. The partisans of Anne were his most powerful enemies; but the advocates of Queen Katharine's cause were equally clamorous against him. Harassed and perplexed, he endeavoured to justify himself, through the king, from any participation in the first suggestion of the divorce, which report ascribed to his counsels, conveyed, it was affirmed, to the king's ear by his intimate friend, Longland, the royal confessor. The solemn asseveration of Henry, before the legatine court, that Wolsey

• Le Grand.

was guiltless of the unpopular measure, received little credence. Katharine, whom it was the office of Wolsey and his colleague to visit and to conciliate, expressed with the ingenuous warmth of a fearless and exalted mind, her unshaken conviction of his secret enmity, and of its fatal effects. Yet, if this accusation were just, the conduct of the Cardinal when he had the whole affair of the divorce in his own hands, is incomprehensible. Instead of hastening the conclusion of a measure of which he was himself supposed to be the first originator, he deferred the decision of the king's appeal from day to day, until the impetuous temper of Henry could no longer brook delays which he deemed unnecessary. The vacillation with which for the first time the Cardinal acted, is wholly unaccountable, except upon the supposition of some secret change in his private sentiments upon the point in agitation. Distracted and bewildered, he betrayed a lamentable deficiency of that manly resolution, so characteristic of his nature, which might have availed something even with Henry, and which would have redeemed him from the utter degradation that attended his fall. The unhappy Wolsey now experienced the bitterness of a servitude in which opinion at least, if not conscience, is at variance with interest. Well might he afterwards regret, with the bitterness of an unavailing, because a late repentance, that his days had been devoted to an earthly, rather than a heavenly Master. Well might he contemn the vanity of human desires, when he reflected on the peaceful tenour of a life, unruffled by the turmoils of ambition, free from those shackles which the lust of power forges, and passed in rendering, as offerings to heaven, works of active benevolence to man.

Formed by nature for a nobler sphere than the court of a capricious and pampered tyrant, the spirits of Wolsey began to sink under the accumulated annoyance inflicted by the ill-suppressed triumph of insolent enemies, and the indulged fury of the king. At the close of the court one day, Henry sent for him to his residence at Bridewell, and he remained in the private apartments of his sovereign for more than an hour. At the end of that time the Cardinal entered his barge at Black-Friars, and went to his own palace at Westminster. The Bishop of Carlisle, who was with him in the boat, remarked that "it was a very hot day." "Yes," replied Wol

sey, "and if you had been as much chafed as I have been within this hour, you would indeed say it were very hot." Upon entering York House, the Cardinal hurried to bed, but was not long permitted to enjoy repose, for the Earl of Wiltshire was obliged soon to rouse him, with a message from the king, requiring the immediate interposition of Wolsey and his colleague, with the queen, who was then at the royal abode. Fatigued and harassed as he was, the Cardinal could not delay complying with this order, and accordingly returned to Bridewell, where he had to encounter the resentful demeanour of the queen; and this day of anxiety and mortification was terminated by another interview with Henry, to whom he could communicate nothing but the inveterate determination of Katharine against yielding to her fate.*

These occurrences were succeeded by a quarrel between Wolsey and Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, the intimate associate of the king. It was a plain intimation of the temper of Henry, when Brandon, an experienced and dexterous courtier, ventured to attack the minister, once so formidable, and once his friend, to whom he many times had owed kind offices of mediation with the king. The enemies of Wolsey were becoming daily more numerous and confident, when Henry prepared to set out on his summer progress, accompanied by Anne Boleyn, and breathing all the violence of his furious nature against the two legates. His indignation was excited to the utmost by the adjournment of the legatine court until Bartholomew-tide, a measure adopted by the two legates, in order to avoid the necessity of a decision, but under the pretext of a similar regulation in the courts at Rome.

Campeggio, weary of his office, and anxious to return to Rome, determined to leave the conclusion of this tedious process to other hands; and finding that the mission of Stephens, the king's secretary, who had been sent to Rome to obtain from the pope authority to pronounce judgment, had been fruitless, he resolved to follow the king on his journey, in order to signify his departure, and to take his leave. He was joined in this excursion by Wolsey, and the Cardinal, on this occasion, beheld, for the last time, the monarch over whose mind he had exercised, for many years, an influence unparalleled, and

Cavendish, p. 225–229.

almost absolute. His ruin appears to have been generally expected before the final explosion of the king's anger; for, on the arrival of the two cardinals at Grafton, in Northamptonshire, where the court rested, there arose, as Cavendish avers, "divers opinions that the king would not speak with the lord cardinal, and thereupon were laid many great wagers." On reaching the entrance of the court, Campeggio was immediately conducted to an apartment prepared for him, and Wolsey, after having accompanied his colleague to his chamber, expected to be led to his own, but he was struck with dismay on hearing that no orders for his accommodation had been issued. In this dilemma, the courtesy of Sir Henry Norris, a young and favoured attendant of the king, relieved, in some degree, the perplexity of the Cardinal. Norris, who was afterwards executed upon a charge of supposed criminality with Anne Boleyn, evinced, in this instance, a delicacy and kindness of feeling which proved him deserving of a less tyrannical master, and of a happier fate. Affecting to ascribe the manifest neglect of the Cardinal to the limited establishment of the king's present residence, the knight begged that Wolsey would accept his own apartment, an offer which the dejected favourite accepted with gratitude, and, while he changed his riding apparel, gained from Norris such details of the king's expressions towards him of anger and alienation as were current about the court. Thus warned, Wolsey was the better prepared to enter upon his defence, if opportunity should be allowed, in a place where he had few friends to intercede, even for the poor privilege of being heard before condemnation. Affairs seemed, however, for a short time, to change their aspect. Wolsey, to the discomfiture of those who had stakes depending on a contrary result, was bidden to the royal presence; and was admitted with Campeggio to the chamber where the lords of council were in waiting for the king. Henry, on his entrance, either acted with a degree of feeling unusual to him, or he was softened by the presence of the man whose talents had long lent a charm to his social hours, and whose counsels had exalted the glory of England in foreign lands. He received Wolsey courteously, and even kindly; raised him from his kneeling posture, and leading him by the hand to the recess of a window, conversed with him

long and earnestly. The explanation which then took place was favourable, as far as the attentive Cavendish could gather the discourse, to the restoration of Wolsey's favour; yet this temporary sunshine was soon obscured by the fascinations of Anne Boleyn, with whom the king dined that day. Whilst she, the idol of his passing affections, was undermining the fortunes of the Cardinal with her princely lover, the Duke of Norfolk, her uncle, could not suppress his exultations over the unhappy Wolsey, at dinner, and even threw out the alarming insinuation that it was the intention of the king to send Wolsey to his diocese of York, which he had never yet visited.

Thus assailed on all sides, Wolsey prepared to depart. His enemies had prevailed; and when he took leave, on the following day, in order to accompany Campeggio to London, the separation between him and the king was final. Wolsey had slept during the night at Euston, and on rejoining the court early in the morning, he found Henry accoutred for a sylvan excursion with Anne Boleyn, who had prepared a repast for the king in a neighbouring park, in order to prevent any subsequent interview between him and his former favourite.

In this hasty manner did these two men, long associated in the various pursuits of their several stations, bid each other a last farewell. Henry, in the company of his mistress, passed the day, it is to be presumed, with a careless gaiety, very different from the sad frame of mind in which Wolsey retraced his steps towards London. At the monastery of Saint Alban's, he parted from Campeggio, who, happier, though less distinguished than his colleague, journeyed in safety to his native land, after a slight disturbance of his progress, occasioned by the groundless suspicions of Henry, that Wolsey had transmitted, through Campeggio, the means of provision for himself in case of his escape to foreign lands. Wolsey had not, apparently, harboured any such intention. He returned to York House, and, on the commencement of the Michaelmas term, took his accustomed place, for one day, in the Court of Chancery, and exercised his high functions with his wonted parade. After this day he never sat there more. The ensuing morning he remained at home to receive the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, the purport of whose visit was

to demand from him the great seal. At the same time it was intimated that the king commanded him to leave York House, and to take up his abode at Esher, a residence appertaining to the bishopric of Winchester, and situated in the well known and beautiful vicinage of Hampton Court. Wolsey, with singular calmness, requested to know by what authority the two noblemen acted; they replied by that of the king. The Cardinal then protested against obedience to a verbal order, and refused to give up his office without the formality of letters-patent from the king, from whom he had received the seal. In vain the two dukes urged compliance with their orders; they were constrained to return to Windsor, and to bring with them, on the following day, the letters with the royal signature. These documents having been perused by Wolsey, with every appearance of respect and submission, he yielded to his fate, and resigned into the hands of the noble messengers the insignia of his high office. The dukes then left him, and Wolsey prepared to leave York House, and to take a last survey of the costly furniture with which his lavish hands had supplied the princely abode. How must the entire vanity of human grandeur have struck his mind when he looked around upon the decorations of his stately mansion.-the spacious gallery, occupied by various tables, on which were deposited large pieces of silk stuffs, of velvets, and of satins, the rich hoards of the Cardinal for future use; -the store of one thousand pieces of Holland cloth,-hangings along the walls of the gallery, cloths of gold and of silver, and precious tissues of various kinds: sumptuous copes, intended for the clergy of his colleges at Oxford and at Ipswich, provided at his private expense;-in the adjoining chambers, long tables, laden with massive plate, both silver and gold, which was valuable and uncommon at a period when the use of pewter vessels, even in the households of the great, was scarcely abandoned! After a minute inspection of his property, Wolsey caused it to be carefully arranged, and the several articles to be entered in an inventory, which is still preserved among the Harleian collection of manuscripts in the British Museum. By this enumeration of his goods, and by collecting even those which were broken or spoiled, Wolsey probably hoped to conciliate, his rapacious mas

ter, in evincing his submissive devotion to his will. He next allotted to each officer of the household his respective charge, and leaving strict injunctions that each portion of the spoils should be delivered to those who were empowered to receive it on the part of the king, he departed from York House. His last action in this scene of his former greatness, evinced how unsubdued was his proud spirit, by that reverse of fortune which afterwards bowed it to the dust. When he intrusted to Sir William Gascoigne, his treasurer, the superintendence of the forteited property, the knight ventured to condole with him on the prospect of his being sent to the Tower, a fate which public report had already assigned to the Cardinal. For this surmise, Gascoigne received from Wolsey a sharp rebuke. "Is this," said he, "the good comfort and counsel that ye give your master in adversity? It has always been your natural inclination to be very light of credit, and much lighter in reporting false news. Go your way, and give good attendance unto your charge, that nothing be embezzled."

The Cardinal, attended by a selected number of his servants, now set out on his way to Esher, and entering his barge, at his private stairs, was rowed to Putney, where his mule, and the horses of his attendants, awaited him. Scarcely had he begun his journey, when his heart was gladdened by the approach of Sir Henry Norris, who hailed him with the glad tidings that "the king commanded his grace to be of good cheer;" and assured him that he "was in as much favour as he had ever been." With these encouraging words, Sir Henry delivered to Wolsey a ring, which had long served as a token between him and the king upon particular occasions. The surprise and delight with which Wolsey received these indications of mercy were promptly expressed in his gestures. Alighting from his mule, he prostrated himself on the earth, holding up his hands to heaven in joy and gratitude. The courteous Norris was lost for some minutes in thought and wonder, at the abasement of one whom he had seen the idol of courts and of princes. Placing himself also on his knees, by the side of Wolsey, he besought him to give credence to his message. Wolsey, overwhelmed with his emotions, could reply only by reiterated expressions of thankfulness to

God and the king; but it is to be feared that feelings of earthly ambition had the predominating influence over his mind. On parting, he gave to Norris, as a token of his friendship, a piece of the holy cross, commonly worn by the Cardinal around his neck. To the king he sent many messages of devotion; and recollecting, after taking leave of Norris, that Henry prized a favourite fool whom he had in his service, he recalled the knight, and bade the menial accompany him to the king; but the poor fool, preferring the service of his old master, could with difficulty be forced from the retinue; and the Cardinal had some thoughts of sending six of his stoutest yeomen to enforce the obedience of the attached and perhaps humoured individual.

Wolsey now proceeded to Esher, where he remained for some weeks in a state of anxiety and of privation which afforded a melancholy contrast to his former splendour. An information had been exhibited against him, in the king's bench, by Hales, the attorney-general, purporting, that, notwithstanding the statute of Richard the Second against procuring bulls from Rome, he had procured bulls for his legatine power, which he had for some years executed. This charge had even been preferred at the commencement of Michaelmas term, before the last appearance of the Cardinal in chancery. Wolsey, through his attorneys, confessed its justice, as far as regarded the procuring of bulls, but denied that the procedure was contrary to the statute, or prejudicial to the honour and interests of the king: he was, however, declared by the court to be out of the protection of the king; his lands and goods to be forfeited to the crown, and his person to be liable to seizure. The people, although generally unfavourable to Wolsey, regarded this sentence as harsh and unjust. The Cardinal had exercised his legatine jurisdiction with the countenance of the king, and had never been questioned as to its legality. His services to the crown were not wholly obliterated from the public recollection, and he, who had been the object of envy, now became that of compassion. Deprived of all his personal property, the state of penury to which he was reduced seemed scandalous to the high station which he still occupied as Cardinal, and as

Cavendish, p. 257. + Herbert, p. 292.

the nominal Archbishop of York. His household, as Cavendish, who was still a member of it, relates, was destitute of beds, linen, cups, dishes, and plate, which they were obliged to borrow from Sir Thomas Arundell and the Bishop of Carlisle. This sudden reduction of the Cardinal's fortunes was not solely the effect of caprice and violence on the part of Henry, who inherited much of the grasping disposition of his father, and was determined to obtain possession of York House, the inspection of which had probably sharpened his appetite for the plunder of the Cardinal's effects. After a private negotiation with Wolsey, this point was conceded, and the splendid palace, which would have reverted to the church as an appendage to the see of York, was secured, by this piece of management, to the king, on the condition, that it should, on his death, be returned to the successor of Wolsey in the archbishopric. The effects of the Cardinal's submission were soon apparent. On the twenty-first of November he received the king's pardon, and was reinstated in the sees of York and Winchester. At the same time a number of his horses and mules were restored to him, and three thousand pounds in money.* These, with other articles, amounted altogether to six thousand, three hundred, and seventy-four pounds, which was all the wreck of his immense property that Wolsey ever received, after it had fallen into the hands of his rapacious master.

The indications of a relenting spirit on the part of the king towards Wolsey, were viewed with some alarm by the enemies of the Cardinal, who feared him more in adversity than in prosperity; for they knew how keen would be his vengeance, if he ever were reinstated in his former greatness. By their representations, the offences of Wolsey were magnified in the eyes of Henry, until the mind of that monarch was worked up to a determination to complete the ruin of his former favourite. By a council of nobles, assembled in the Star Chamber, it was resolved to refer the case of Wolsey to parliament; a bill was accordingly prepared, attainting Wolsey of high treason, and it passed through the house of lords. The articles contained in this bill were forty-four in

Rymer's Fœdera, vol. xiv., p. 375. The horses and their furniture were valued at one pound seventeen shillings each.

« AnteriorContinuar »