The Rise and Fall of Thomas Cromwell

by John Schofield

  In the year of Anne’s triumph, Cromwell had not risen as high as his main evangelical colleagues, Lord Chancellor Audley and Archbishop Cranmer. He would soon overtake both in pre-eminence on Henry’s council, but not yet. Conversely, it does not seem as though either of these two had travelled as far down the evangelical road as Cromwell had done. Cromwell had by now read and digested Melanchthon’s Apology, and Christopher Mont was translating Lutheran works in Cromwell’s house (see Chapter 3); but whether Cranmer or Audely were yet an integral part of this largely underground Protestant movement is far from certain. And it was still an underground movement, even though men in high places had joined it. From the vantage point of history, the rupture between England and Rome appears as a central element of the Protestant Reformation in England, but hopefully it is not being pedantic to point out that at the time things were perceived differently. Even if Lutheran ideas had helped fuel the mood of English nationalism – and even this is debateable – the king who led his country into schism was no Protestant when he married Anne, and he never became one after that. For all his defiance of the pope, Henry would continue to enforce medieval papal doctrines of transubstantiation, the sacrifice of the mass and clerical celibacy; and despite all the subsequent efforts of Cromwell, Cranmer and others to persuade him, he never accepted justification by faith alone. For want of a better and generally recognized term, Henry might be called a rebel Catholic, or maybe a schismatic. Cromwell’s evangelical activities, therefore, still had to be conducted in some secrecy and with discretion.

  One of Cromwell’s last official engagements of the year was to attend, along with many others, Cranmer’s enthronement on 3 December, 1532. It was a lavish affair. Thomas Goldwell, the prior of Christ Church at Canterbury, had wanted to send Cromwell ‘some pleasure in wildfowl’ for Christmas; but after the ecclesiastical festivities he had to regretfully advise that ‘all our swans and partridges, with such other things, be consumed and spent’. So Goldwell offered ‘fruits of the earth’ instead, among which were ‘Pome riall’, apples, ‘good to drink wine withal’. Thus an eventful year drew to its close.38

  Notes

   1 Elton, Studies 1, p. 182; G.R. Elton, England under the Tudors (London, 2001), p. 107; A. Fox, and J. Guy, Reassessing the Henrician Age: Humanism, politics and reform, 1500–1550 (Oxford, 1986), pp. 165–6; J. Guy, Tudor England (Oxford, 1988), pp. 104–5.

   2 Hall, p. 728.

   3 On Henry and ending his marriage, see Hall, p. 728, and discussions below and also in: V. Murphy, ‘The Literature and Propaganda of Henry VIII’s First Divorce’, in D. MacCulloch (ed.), The Reign of Henry VIII: Politics, policy and piety (Basingstoke, 1995), pp. 135; R. Rex, Theology of John Fisher (Cambridge, 1991), p. 165); J. Scarisbrick, Henry VIII (London, 1968), pp. 181–97. On the princes of Almain: LP 4 (3), no. 5476. The ‘true vicar of Christ’: SP 7, p. 185. This may be an allusion to a far-fetched scheme in 1527 designed to make Wolsey ‘caretaker’ Head of the Church while Pope Clement was Charles’s prisoner, so that Wolsey would be peacemaker in Europe and secure Henry’s divorce. It came to nothing. See S. J. Gunn, ‘Wolsey’s Foreign Policy and Domestic Crisis’ in S. Gunn and P. Lindley (eds), Cardinal Wolsey: Church, State and Art (Cambridge, 1991), p. 152. For Chapuys and the French ambassador: CSP Span., 1529–30, no. 224, pp. 349–50; no. 232, pp. 366–7; LP 4 (3), no. 6307.

   4 CSP Span., 1529–30, no. 445; CSP Span., 1531–3 (cont.), no. 598, p. 23; LP 5, no. 148, p. 69.

   5 Fox and Guy, Reassessing, pp. 157–61; D. MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer: A Life (New Haven and London, 1996), pp. 54, 59.

   6 Elton, Tudor Cons., pp. 350–53; Merriman 1, p. 343; S. Lehmberg, The Reformation Parliament, 1529–1536 (Cambridge, 1970), pp. 136–8.

   7 LP 5, no. 738, p. 352; CSP Ven. 4, no. 754.

   8 For the passage of the Supplication through parliament, see Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, pp. 139–54. For Elton’s analysis and discussion see Elton, Studies 2, pp. 107–35; Elton, Tudor Cons., pp. 333–5; G.R. Elton, Reform and Reformation (London, 1977), pp. 151–6. Elton suggests that the first draft of the Supplication might have been drawn up before the 1532 session began. He admits that definite proof is missing, but suggests that the 1529 session included some of the later complaints against the clergy: as early as 1529 Cromwell’s drafts and corrections show him turning general complaints against the clergy into a new form – complaints that the clergy and courts were acting without the king’s consent. However, Lehmberg has an extract from an anti-clerical petition in 1529 before Cromwell made any alterations to it, and one of its complaints is that the clergy make laws ‘without your royal assent’ (Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, pp. 85–6). Lehmberg is generally a bit more cautious than Elton on Cromwell’s role. He agrees that the Supplication might have been prepared in advance by the government, but there is no definitive evidence and other explanations are possible: the Supplication could have been drafted by Cromwell during the current session, or maybe it was framed by a committee, with Cromwell’s support, based on some 1529 drafts (Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, p. 139). This may have to remain an open question.

   9 Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, p. 153.

  10 Elton, Tudor Rev., p. 99; Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, pp. 159, 161–2; MacCulloch, Cranmer, pp. 75–6.

  11 CSP Span., 1527–9, no. 550, p. 789; CSP Span., 1529–30, no. 224, pp. 351–2; CSP Ven. 4, no. 437.

  12 CSP Span., 1529–30, no. 245, p. 405; no. 290, p. 511; no. 347, p. 590.

  13 CSP Span., 1531–3 (cont), nos 608, 612; no. 739, p. 177; no. 765, p. 212.

  14 CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 980, p. 489; no. 1077, p. 699.

  15 CSP Span., 1531–3 (cont) , no. 1003, p. 527; no. 1008, p. 535; CSP Ven. 4, nos 802–3; J.A. Froude, (ed.), The Pilgrim: A Dialogue of the Life and Actions of King Henry VIII , by W. Thomas, Clerk of the Council to Edward VI (London, 1861), pp. 89–90; LP 5, no. 1538; Wright, p. 17 (18).

  16 Hall, pp. 790–94; LP 5, nos 1430, 1484–5, 1509; CSP Ven. 4, nos 820, 824, pp. 365, 368.

  17 Hall, p. 794; MacCulloch, Cranmer, pp. 637–8. It may be noteworthy that the Elizabethan historian, Ralph Holinshed, presumably after giving the matter some thought, accepts Hall’s version of the November marriage: see Holinshed 3, p. 777.

  18 MacCulloch, Cranmer, p. 83; Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, p. 162; Cranmer, Misc. Writings, p. 246.

  19 CSP Span., 1531–3 (cont), no. 1048, p. 602; no. 1053, p. 609.

  20 CSP Span., 1536–8, no. 43, p. 82.

  21 Elton, England under the Tudors, pp. 132–3; Elton, Tudor Const., pp. 353–8; Elton, Studies 2, pp. 82–106; Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, pp. 164–9, 174–5.

  22 Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, pp. 176–8.

  23 Hall, pp. 794–5. Chapuys’s despatch (CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1061, pp. 638, 643) is dated 15 April, describing a conversation with Henry on Thursday of Holy Week, which would be 10 April. The Venetian ambassador’s letter – CSP Ven. 4, no. 870, p. 393 – is interesting. The calendar translates thus: ‘I am assured that some months ago’, Henry married Anne, and that ‘she bore him a son who is several months old’ (Mi vien afirmato za più mezi questa Mts averla sposata, e aver uno fiol di qualche meze con lei). The editor’s translation seems rather free. Literally it reads: ‘he has a son of some months with (or by) her’. There is no other record of a son actually born yet, and the Venetian ambassador could hardly have been so badly informed as to think that there was. He probably meant that Anne was now some months pregnant – ‘with child’ as we would say – and he assumed the child would be a son. Note also the marriage ‘some months ago’ (za più mezi) – from 12 April – may point more to a marriage in mid November than at the end of January.

  24 SP 7, pp. 428–30, 434.

  25 SP 7, p. 495.

  26 CSP Ven. 4, nos 649, 705, 723; 5, no. 1035, p. 633; LP 13 (2) no. 804, p. 318; CSP Span., 1531–3 (cont), no. 1044, p. 5
88; LP 6, no. 208. For more contacts between Francis and Rome around this time, see LP 6, nos 91–2. Francis seemed to be trying to induce Rome to look more favourably on Henry’s Great Matter, though this was before the news of the second marriage was made public.

  27 CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1143, p. 837.

  28 CSP Span., 1529–30, no. 245, p. 406; CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1061, p. 645. Further evidence that Francis supported Henry, perhaps more than he admitted in public, is as follows: A report of a personal letter to Anne from Francis in March, though addressing her as ‘Madame la Marquise’, not queen (LP 6, no. 242). After Rochford’s visit in March, Francis told his cardinals that he still supported Henry’s cause (LP 6, nos 254–5). Though noting the pope’s displeasure with Henry, Francis still wished that Rome would be patient and understand why he was sympathetic to Henry. He trusted that the pope would not drive Henry to further disobedience (LP 6, no. 424). The pope, however, was getting impatient with Henry and a little suspicious by now about Francis (LP 6, no. 643). There is also an intriguing report claiming that the pope told Francis that the dispensation of Pope Julius allowing Henry and Catherine to marry was not valid, therefore tacitly admitting that the marriage might be unlawful (LP 7, nos 1348, 1604).

  29 LP 6, no. 282.

  30 CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1058, pp. 630–31.

  31 SP 7, pp. 417–18; LP 6, nos 525–6; CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1077, p. 700; Lehmberg, Reformation Parliament, p. 178–9.

  32 LP 6, nos 423 (2), 631, 641, 846; MacCulloch, Cranmer, pp. 94–5; CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1091, p. 721; CSP Ven. 4, no. 923.

  33 LP 6, nos 1070, 1111. As MacCulloch as already noted (MacCulloch, Cranmer, p. 638), the date of Elizabeth’s birth, 7 September, means that Anne’s pregnancy began in early December the previous year, which provides further evidence for the marriage in mid November, as Hall says.

  34 LP 6, nos 1386, 1399, 1404, 1426, 1479.

  35 CSP Milan, nos 927, 932–3; CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1144, pp. 841–2.

  36 CSP Span., 1531–3, no. 1148, pp. 852–3; LP 6, nos 996, 1427. For more on the intrigues of kings and the pope in Du Bellay’s miscellaneous memoirs, see the summary in LP 6, no. 1572.

  37. The Milan ambassador: CSP Ven. 4, no. 601.

  38 MacCulloch, Cranmer, p. 106; Ellis 10, pp. 287–8.

  5

  Principal Secretary

  Sometime during these historic events, Cromwell renewed an old friendship. Francesco Frescobaldi, the merchant who many years ago had shown a Christian charity to the young Thomas Cromwell when he was a fugitive and wanderer in Italy, had now fallen on hard times. He had debtors in England, so he set out to claim the money owed him and to revive his fortunes. Quite by chance Cromwell saw him one day, recognised him, greeted him fulsomely and invited him to dinner, introducing him to his guests as the man ‘by whose means I have achieved the degree of this my present calling’. Dinner over, Cromwell learned the reason his former benefactor had come to England. By now a rich man himself, Cromwell loaded Frescobaldi with gifts, and after taking the names of Frescobaldi’s debtors, ordered one of his servants to investigate the case and obtain the money owed. Within days, all debts were recovered. The Italian then stayed for a short while as Cromwell’s guest before returning to his homeland. The story has a slightly sad ending; now an old man, Frescobaldi died within a year of arriving back in Venice.1

  Bandello’s appealing tale can be dated to around 1532–3, when the name of Francis Frescobaldi appears in the Letters and Papers. Dr Augustine was also in touch with him around this time. There are two separate letters from a Francis Frescobaldi to Cromwell from Marseilles in October 1533 offering his services, though the brevity of these letters suggests that this might have been a different Frescobaldi, maybe a son. Frescobaldi’s name appears for the last time in Cromwell’s remembrances in 1534. The reunion provided an agreeable interlude for a councillor who now had some grim business to deal with.2

  When the New Year (1534) dawned, one item demanding Cromwell’s attention was the case of Elizabeth Barton, variously described as the Holy Maid of Kent, the Nun of Canterbury, or simply the Nun. Following an illness in 1525, this humble Kentish servant girl had transformed herself into a charismatic, mystic visionary, prone to trances and startling prophecies. With the support of a monk of Canterbury, Dr Edward Bocking, her influence quickly grew. Even the high and mighty of the realm were fascinated by her. She was granted an audience with Archbishop Warham and John Fisher, and also, sometime in 1529, Henry himself. According to one story she had met Anne Boleyn, who offered her a position in her circle at court. By contrast Catherine of Aragon and Thomas More avoided the Maid, Catherine pointedly turning down opportunities to meet her.3

  Though the Maid had become one of the most vocal opponents of Henry’s new marriage, it was not until the summer of 1533 that the king ordered Cromwell and Cranmer to begin dealings with her and followers. At first she was questioned by Cranmer – she hailed from Kent so she was his responsibility – but soon Cromwell was put in charge of investigations. On 11 August Richard Gwent sent a report to Cromwell, describing how ‘when my lord of Canterbury had examined the Nun of Canterbury upon your interrogatories … she then confessed many follies’. No record of these interrogatories has survived, but they were crucial in breaking the Maid’s spirit because Gwent added that ‘if your interrogatories had not been, she would have confessed nothing’. Soon after this incident the Maid, Bocking and other allies of hers were sent to Cromwell personally. Then, to quote Cranmer, ‘she confessed all … that she never had a vision in all her life, but all that ever she said was feigned’.4

  At one point during the Maid’s examination she was asked to reveal past events that she could not have known about. According to Cromwell’s protégée, Richard Morison, it was this sudden thrust that shattered her confidence, and confessions quickly followed. Morison is the only source for this story, but it does ring true. It may be suspected that behind this tactic lay the penetrating mind of Cromwell. For if someone can divine the future, why not the past as well? What better way to test the genuineness of this self-proclaimed prophetess? The hapless girl could now do no better than fall back on a platitude. Those who put such questions, she pleaded, would need to be in a ‘state of grace’ before any answer could be given. Alas for the unfortunate Maid, such pious excuses would never pass muster with an accomplished examiner like Cromwell. True prophets of the Lord in the Bible, like Joseph to Pharaoh or Daniel to Nebuchadnezzar and Belshazzar, never insisted on the prerequisite of ‘state of grace’ (Genesis 41; Daniel 2, 5). As Cromwell knew, the main point of prophecy in its scriptural sense is to convict the unconverted, not to preach to those who have the light already. Admittedly this interpretation of the Maid’s case is both a little conjectural and based entirely on Morison. Few details of her examination were made public, and Cromwell doubtless preferred to keep his interrogation techniques a secret.5

  Cromwell’s remembrances in January 1534 include reminders to ask Henry what action the king wished to take regarding the Maid and her accomplices. Henry was determined to exact exemplary justice, but a legal technicality stood in his way, because opposing Henry’s marriage to Anne was not treasonable under the existing law. Moreover, because the Maid had prophesied in the presence of the king, expert legal opinion took the quite realistic view that she could hardly be guilty of treason against his life. So Henry decided to proceed against the offenders by an act of parliamentary attainder, under which a person could be condemned by Act of Parliament without a formal trial in a court before a jury, and without the opportunity to give a defence. This arbitrary law-enforcement method had existed since 1459; it was not a Cromwellian invention, as is sometimes supposed. Cromwell, however, was the one directed by the king to prepare the indictment.6

  There is a hint in Cromwell’s notes that he held out some hope of clemency for the Maid and her party. The reference is to those who ‘shall be attainted of high treason a
nd suffer death except the king’s majesty do pardon them’. The king’s majesty, however, was not minded to be merciful, and in April the offenders faced the full horror of the traitors’ death at Tyburn.7

  The affair of the Maid highlighted the need to prepare parliamentary legislation to alter the succession and treason laws, subjects that Cromwell had been concerned about for some time. After the bill to reduce Catherine of Aragon’s status to that of ‘Princess Dowager’ was passed by both houses by 7 March, the more complex succession bill, drafted by Cromwell and the council, underwent a number of revisions before being debated in parliament. Its main provisions confirmed Henry’s marriage to Anne and ensured the succession to their lawful male heirs. Failing male heirs, the succession would pass to Elizabeth and her children. Rather surprisingly, Mary was not mentioned. She was not included in the succession, but neither was she made illegitimate, though this would be the logical outcome of the alleged invalidity of the Aragon marriage. By the end of March, the bill had completed its course through parliament, and members were required to swear an oath to the new act. Almost immediately after this demonstration of loyalty, news reached England of the papal sentence declaring that Henry’s marriage to Catherine was valid. Henry was furious, and orders were sent to his clergy to attack papal authority with more vigour than ever in their Easter sermons. Parliament was then prorogued until November.8