THE CATHOLIC REACTION AND THE ALLIANCE WITH CLEVES
The first few months of the new year brought no improvement in the state of England’s foreign affairs. Having postponed the Lutheran alliance which Cromwell had so strongly advocated in the end of 1538, for fear of losing his position of neutrality between France and Spain, Henry was driven back on his own policy of seeking safety for England in direct negotiations with Charles and Francis. Matrimonial agitations had failed—malicious tale-bearing had not borne fruit, so the King took the more straightforward course of making direct complaints that he was spoken of with too little respect in foreign parts. He sent grumbling letters to his neighbours, accusing them of permitting evil reports to be circulated about him. He caused the President of the Council of the North to request James of Scotland to suppress and punish the authors of several ‘spyttfull ballades,’ which had been published about the wrongfully usurped authority of the King of England, and also wrote to Wyatt in Spain, commanding him to protest against the malicious and unreasonable lies of the ‘barking prechers ther’ who slandered him behind his back[604]. But these petty remonstrances had no effect in diminishing the growing cordiality of Francis and Charles, or their hatred of England: in fact the two continental sovereigns seemed better friends than ever. On January 12, representatives of both monarchs met at Toledo and concluded an agreement not to make any new alliances, either political or matrimonial, with the King of England, without each other’s consent[605]. The news of this treaty was a deathblow to Henry’s hopes; and the King was reluctantly forced toadmit that his minister’s scheme of a German alliance offered better chances of safety for England than any other. So he again gave his consent to a renewal of negotiations for an outside league, though, as we shall soon see, it was on a basis somewhat different from that of the previous ones.
Disappointed by the King’s refusal definitely to accept the alliance for which he had laboured so hard, Cromwell had meantime been amusing himself with a very feeble plan for gaining friends against the Pope, the chimerical nature of which was quite at variance with the direct and practical character of most of his schemes. He had proposed a league of England with the Dukes of Ferrara, Mantua, and Urbino against his Holiness, who had just challenged the title of the latter to the dukedom of Camerino. An interesting set of instructions to Cromwell’s friend Edmund Harvell at Venice tells the story of this negotiation very vividly[606]. But the princes of northern Italy were too weak and the scheme itself was too remote and far-fetched to promise any real advantage, and Cromwell doubtless lost all interest in it as soon as the King again consented to approach the Germans. The fact that three months had been suffered to elapse since the return of the envoys in 1538, without an acceptance of the King’s invitation to send other representatives to discuss theological points, simply proves that Henry’s treatment of the first embassy had not been such as to encourage the Lutherans to persevere[607]. But now that the King had again veered round to Cromwell’s policy, he ‘mervayled not a litel’ at the slowness of the Germans, and sent Christopher Mont over to the Court of the Elector of Saxony on January 25 to discover the feelings of John Frederic and the Landgrave of Hesse, the leaders of the Schmalkaldic League, towards the Emperor, to inquire further into their attitude on the tenets about which they had so fruitlessly disputed withthe English bishops in the preceding summer, and finally to learn whether the Duke of Cleves and his son were of the ‘old popisshe fasshyon’ or no[608]. Appended to these very non-committal injunctions are certain others from Cromwell himself of quite a different nature[609]. Completely dodging the theological issue, which he wisely left entirely in the King’s hands, Cromwell took up the question of the German alliance from a new and far more practical side, the matrimonial. He instructed Mont to suggest to the Vice-Chancellor Burckhard the possibility of two marriages; one between the young Duke of Cleves and the Princess Mary, and the other between Anne, the elder of the two unmarried daughters of the old Duke, and the King himself[610]. It appears that Cromwell had already discussed the feasibility of the first of these two matches with the Vice-Chancellor, when the latter had been in England in the previous summer, and John Frederic had subsequently written to the King’s minister that the plan met with his entire approval. The proposal for Henry’s marriage, on the contrary, was now brought forward for the first time. We shall soon see why it was that Mont was sent to the Elector of Saxony, rather than to the Duke of Cleves himself, to feel the way for these two alliances.
In order to understand the precise bearing on the foreign affairs of England of the two marriages which Cromwell proposed, and of the political league which would naturally go with them, we must make a slight digression here and examine the very peculiar position in which the Duke of Cleves found himself at this juncture. Various politicalconsiderations, above all an increasing jealousy of the power of the House of Saxony, had led the Emperor Maximilian in 1496 to declare Maria, the only child of the Duke of Juliers and Berg, to be the lawful heiress of these two provinces; a step which was in direct contravention of a grant which Maximilian, at his election as King of the Romans, had made to Frederic the Wise of the reversion of Juliers and Berg in case of failure of male heirs in the ducal line there. This grant was definitely revoked in various documents of the years 1508 and 1509; and Duke John of Cleves, who in the meantime had married the heiress Maria of Juliers and Berg, was permitted to unite these three rich provinces in his own hand, and to establish a strong power on the Lower Rhine which prevented undue preponderance of the House of Wettin, and furnished a useful support for the Hapsburgs in the western part of the Empire[611]. The peace-loving Duke John lived and died in friendship with Maximilian and his grandson, although his desire to see a reform in the Church had prevented his definite acceptance of the Imperial invitation to join a Catholic League against the Schmalkaldner in 1537. Instead he devoted himself to strengthening his power in his own possessions by a series of wise and prudent measures, through which he welded the three component parts of his dominions into one[612]. But during the last year of his life (which ended on February 6, 1539, while Mont was on his way to the Saxon Court) affairs took a turn which was destined to bring his son and heir William into direct conflict with the Empire. In June, 1538, the warlike Duke Charles of Gelderland, whose possessions lay next to the province of Cleves on the north, died leaving no children. His life had been spent in a struggle against the pretensions to his hereditary dominions brought forward by the Emperor as heir of Charles the Bold, and in order to prevent the substantiation of the Imperial claims at his death he had planned to leave his lands to the Kingof France[613]. This scheme however had encountered strong opposition from the estates of Gelderland, who regarded with little favour a proposal so threatening to their comparatively independent position, and Duke Charles was finally forced, much against his will, to designate young William of Cleves as his successor. The latter, though by nature weak and irresolute, was not in a position to refuse the chance which fortune had thrown in his way: he accepted the proffered inheritance, and the death of his father soon after left him in full possession of the four rich provinces[614].
The result was that he immediately became involved in a serious quarrel with the Emperor, who realizing how dangerous a rival to his own power had been created by the events just recounted, reasserted his claims to Gelderland even more strongly than before. In looking for allies against Charles, Duke William naturally turned to the Elector of Saxony, whose rights to Juliers and Berg, once rudely revoked by Maximilian, had not been forgotten, but who seems to have preserved sufficiently friendly relations with the family in favour of which his claims had been set aside, to marry Sibylla, one of the sisters of the Duke[615]. Common enmity to Charles V. now drew them very close together, and at the Imperial Court it was actually thought that Cleves had been formally admitted to the Schmalkaldic League[616]. This however was a mistake. Though Duke William was certainly not opposed to the Lutheran doctrines, he had not as yet made open confession of the Protestant faith; and for that reason the Elector and the Landgrave had steadily refused to make a political alliance with him[617]. Still he was on very intimateterms with John Frederic, who had promised, when he wedded Sibylla of Cleves, to advance money for the marriage of her sisters, and thus had a certain right to be consulted when husbands were to be chosen for them. Henry was doubtless well aware of all this, and it was consequently at the Saxon Court that Mont was instructed to obtain information about the Duke of Cleves, and if possible to pave the way for the two matrimonial alliances from which Cromwell hoped so much.
Having completed this preliminary survey of the position of the Duke of Cleves, we are enabled to make some interesting observations on the instructions to the English ambassador. It is very significant that the inquiries which Mont was ordered to make concerning the religious tendencies of Duke William were concerned only with his attitude towards the Pope. Of course the King could not consistently ally himself with firm adherents of the Holy See after the events of the past ten years; but it is also of the utmost importance to notice that he apparently preferred a league with powers which he knew had not definitely committed themselves to the New Faith to an alliance with the Schmalkaldner. Else why did he rather seek to unite with Cleves than with Saxony? Both were politically valuable, as enemies of the Emperor; the only difference was that Cleves was not as yet avowedly Protestant, and Saxony was. It is possible that the idea which bore fruit five months later in the Six Articles had already taken shape in Henry’s mind; at least it seems certain that he was determined to keep a perfectly free hand in religious affairs, so as not to be hampered in his political relations with France and Spain. Thus whenCromwell at last succeeded in persuading him reluctantly to return to a German alliance, it was really only half a victory for the minister. There was this great difference between the league with the Lutherans which Cromwell had proposed and which never succeeded, and the Cleves alliance which was now sought. The one would have been necessarily both political and religious (for we have seen that the Lutherans had always refused to join with England until a satisfactory theological agreement could be made), while the other was solely political. It was simply another expression of the old disagreement between Henry and Cromwell. The King, always looking for a chance of reconciliation with Charles and Francis, refused to enter an alliance the religious conditions of which would greatly enhance the difficulty of a return to his favourite scheme. He was only induced to enter a purely political league, which he doubtless felt he could throw over at any moment if he wished to do so; an agreement both political and religious he might have found it more difficult to escape from. Cromwell on the other hand, having definitely given up all ideas of direct negotiations with France and Spain, wished to plunge headlong into the Lutheran alliance, caring little what he was committed to provided he gained solid support. But, as we have seen, the King would not agree to this, and the alliance with Cleves can thus only be regarded as a compromise between the royal and Cromwellian policies, which the King could abandon whenever affairs in France and Spain took a more favourable turn. Later events in the same year furnish further proofs of this most important fact.
Furthermore the King had contrived that the responsibility for the proposed league with Cleves should fall almost entirely on his minister’s shoulders, in order that he himself might the more easily renounce it if occasion served. The fact that the new alliance, if accomplished, would from its very nature commit him to far less than the Lutheran league which he had put off in 1538, was not enough for Henry; he must needs have other safeguards, and determined to make Cromwell his scapegoat. All the practical and importantparts of the instructions to Mont were given by the King’s minister. The conciliatory expressions with which Henry had directed the ambassador to sound the Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse on the question of theology were merely empty words, as is proved by the utter failure of an attempted agreement four months later. Their sole object was to induce John Frederic more favourably to receive the practical proposals which followed. But the King purposely left to Cromwell the task of framing the vital part of the message, and it is evident that he gave his consent to the proposals it contained only in the most guarded and non-committal manner. We are merely told that as regards the match proposed for the Princess Mary, Cromwell perceived ‘the kingeshieghnes. . .by his gracescountenaunce and exterior Visage. . .to be of good Inclinacion[618].’ On the more vital question of the King’s attitude concerning his own marriage, the instructions of Cromwell to Mont give us even vaguer information. The fact was that the King was willing definitely to bind Cromwell, but not himself, to a plan which he had resolved to abandon the moment that any favourable alteration should take place in his relations with France and Spain. From the day that Mont departed on his mission, the fate of the alliance with Cleves and the fate of Thomas Cromwell were joined together beyond the possibility of separation.
We unfortunately do not possess the letter in which Mont and his companion, a certain Thomas Paynell, reported their first reception at the Saxon Court, but the reply of Cromwell on March 10 gives us considerable information about the success of the ambassadors[619]. John Frederic had apparently welcomed the prospect of the two marriages by which Henry proposed to bind himself to Cleves, and had promised, through Burckhard, to do his best to bring them about. Cromwell’s letter goes on to direct Mont to follow up the advantage already gained by telling bad stories about Charles, and to ‘inculcate and persuade vnto the said duke and landisgrave the moment & importance of that grudge, which themperourdoth beire, for the Bishop of Romespleasureagainst them and other of the avangelik sorte, which they may nowe easely perceive by that he worketh and goeth aboute.’ At the same time, another embassy, headed by a certain Dr. Nicholas Wotton, was sent to Cleves to obtain confirmation of the promises of Burckhard, and further to carry on negotiations for a supply of gunners and artillerymen to be furnished to Henry in case he should need them; and finally to signify the King’s willingness to make an offensive and defensive league with Duke William[620]. The latter was at first less eager to accept the alliance which England offered than his brother-in-law was to promote it: he wanted to postpone a definite answer in the hope that he might yet come to a peaceful solution of his difficulty with the Emperor[621]. But as this prospect daily grew more and more remote, he became correspondingly willing to entertain Henry’s proposals, and the outlook for the accomplishment of the practical part of Cromwell’s plan seemed very favourable. The comparatively unimportant overtures for theological reconciliation with the Elector and the Landgrave were apparently at first received with less enthusiasm by the Lutherans, who had already had some experience of the King’s vacillating policy and evidently thought it a little suspicious that Henry had suddenly become so very urgent. We have seen that the King’s proposals for a religious agreement were chiefly intended as a blind to cover the more practical matrimonial proposals which had followed, but Cromwell evidently thought it worth while to keep up the deception as a precaution. A second letter from the King’s minister directs Mont and Paynell to continue to urge on the Elector and Landgrave the importance of theological unity, and to ‘conduce to haue them somw[hat reproved for] ouersight & slakenes, in shewing [so little] gratuite, and by that for to pryk th[em to] redubb the same and give you more f[avourable] answer.’
And at first Cromwell’s eagerness for the alliance with Cleves seemed to have every justification, for Henry’s policy in other parts of Europe appeared to have failed even morecompletely than before. Ominous letters were received from Wriothesley, the ambassador in the Netherlands, who did not hesitate to express his fear that war would soon come and that his retreat to England would be cut off[622]. At the same time Chapuys received orders to return to the Court of the Queen Regent, and Cromwell consequently instructed Wriothesley to demand leave to depart[623]. The exchange was finally effected, but that there was deep distrust on both sides is proved by Cromwell’s orders for the detention of Chapuys at Calais, until the safety of Wriothesley was assured, and by the instructions of the Queen Regent to the Provost of Mons to follow the English ambassador to Gravelines[624]. But fortunately these precautions were unnecessary; no open act of hostility took place, and the crisis seemed at least temporarily tided over by the arrival of the Dean of Cambray in London to replace Chapuys, and by the reception of Stephen Vaughan at Brussels in Wriothesley’s stead[625]. But the attitude of France was more disquieting. On February 5 Castillon was recalled, and though he made a vague promise at his departure that another should be sent in his place, the anxiety at the Court was but little relieved thereby. The most that Cromwell could do, was to take care that the French ambassador should carry back to his master full accounts of the excellence of England’s defences, and her readiness for war. So he took him, as he later wrote to the King, to his armoury, showing him a ‘store of harneys and wepens. . .the whiche he semed to esteme moche,’ and telling him that there were twenty more armouries in the realm as well or better equipped; ‘wherat he woundred and sayd that he thought yourgrace the prince best furnished thereof in Christendom[626].’
But though Cromwell may have exaggerated the security of England’s fortifications, his words to Castillon were by no means empty. Though the King and his minister may have had differences of opinion in regard to the conduct of foreign affairs, in the internal management of the kingdomthey were, as always, united. Here Henry suffered himself to be guided at all points by Cromwell. And at no time is the masterfulness of the latter’s domestic administration better exhibited, than by his action at home the moment the first rumours of an invasion reached England. Countless memoranda, lists of men fit for military service, arms, ammunition, provisions, and other necessaries of warfare, all in his hand, or in that of one of his clerks, attest his industry and ability in preparing the country to repel the dreaded invasion. All reports of the state of the coast defences at various places were sent to him. General musters were ordered throughout the realm; every precaution was taken to fortify all vulnerable points. Beacons were placed upon all the hills, and no detail that could add to the strength and efficiency of the defences was left out[627].
But just at this very moment, when everything seemed to point to an open rupture with Charles and Francis, when the schemes which Cromwell had opposed to those of the King seemed to have every justification, an event occurred which totally changed the aspect of affairs, and restored Henry’s badly shaken confidence in his own ability to stave off the threatened crisis without the aid of outside alliances or an appeal to arms. This event was the arrival in England on March 28 of a new French ambassador, Charles de Marillac, who had come to replace Castillon. So long a time had elapsed since the departure of the latter that Henry had probably given up all hope of the fulfilment of the vague prospects that had been held out that a successor might be appointed. But the unexpected appearance of Marillac at once revived the King’s drooping spirits. The letters in which the ambassador reported his reception at the English Court to Francis and Montmorency give us a vivid picture of the universal joy with which this apparent reassurance of friendship with France was hailed[628]. Henry was delighted, and his satisfaction was increased when Marillac, at his master’s command, followed up the advantage already gainedby renewed assertions of the cordiality of France. The whole Court seemed ‘to wear a new aspect and to be quite delighted[629].’ Had Henry seen the letter of instructions which Marillac received from the French Court, he would have realized that Francis was only endeavouring ‘to keep him in good humour[630],’ while making a little more certain of his own relations with Charles; and he might have been less encouraged. But Marillac’s cordiality seems to have put him off his guard, and he was led, in his exultation, to welcome the apparent friendship of Francis in ways which very nearly resulted in the permanent stultification of all the laborious efforts of Cromwell to maintain amicable relations in Germany. The events which took place in England in the three months following the arrival of the French ambassador furnish ample proof of this new departure in the royal policy.
On April 28 Parliament had met, its assembling being indispensable to carrying on the ‘Kinges busynes.’ Cromwell had practically appointed every member, in order that Henry might have a ‘tractable’ House. His usual methods of ‘ordering’ the elections of members have already been described; suffice it to say that in this case he had completely outdone himself; the Parliament of 1539 was undoubtedly his masterpiece[631]. It will be remembered that it was in this session that he first succeeded in forcing the Lords and Commons to sanction the statute by which royal proclamations were given the force of laws. Cromwell’s ‘remembrance’ for other Acts to be passed in the Parliament of 1539 is also noteworthy. It makes casual mention of the attainders of Exeter, Salisbury, and Pole, of plans for the fortification of the coast, and then designates the scheme out of which the Six Articles were later evolved as ‘A devise in the parliament for the vnitie in religion[632].’ It is very improbable that Cromwell had any really accurate information concerning the King’s real intentions in connexion with this last item. Henry had purposely concealed them under a very non-committal statement. Doubtless the King had long cherished the idea of makinguse of a declaration that in matters of doctrine England still adhered to the Old Faith, to facilitate a reconciliation with Charles and Francis; for such a statement would remove the main pretext of the Emperor and the French King for an attack on him, namely that they were undertaking a crusade to suppress heresy. But so hopeless had been the outlook in the early part of the year, that Henry had not had the courage to try this experiment. He was rather led to shun all moves which would imperil his friendly relations with Germany, so that he had scrupulously avoided any direct statement which could lead to the belief that a Catholic reaction was possible. But the assurances of Marillac had revived all his enthusiasm for his old policy. He now abandoned all caution, and promptly proceeded to disclose his real ideas in regard to the ‘vnitie in religion.’ When Cromwell discovered the true state of affairs he must have been dismayed; he probably already felt how deeply he had become involved in the German alliance, and saw that the new trend which things had taken boded no good to him. His position was now a very uncomfortable one, and the fact that a committee of bishops under his superintendence was utterly unable to cope with the difficulties of the newly presented religious problem, is very significant. Henry was not to be balked however. He quickly took the matter out of the hands of the incompetent bishops, and placed it before the Lords; finally, to make assurance doubly sure, he came to them in person, ‘and confounded them all with Goddes Lerning[633].’ Henry’s theology was of course as unimpeachable as it was confounding, and his energy was rewarded before the middle of June by the definite passage in Parliament of the Statute of the Six Articles. The doctrine of Transubstantiation was confirmed, communion in both kinds was pronounced unnecessary, the marriage of priests was forbidden, all vows of chastity were to be strictly observed, and private masses and auricular confession were adjudged meet and expedient[634].
In spite of the radically Catholic nature of the doctrinesproclaimed in this Act, however, Henry took good care that there should be no mistake about his attitude towards the Pope. He was committed to hostility to the See of Rome beyond the possibility of escape, and he knew it. Though political expediency, internal and foreign, had led him to proclaim the catholicity of the Church of England in matters of doctrine, no consideration whatever could induce him to make the least concession to the Papacy. In fact he took measures to show, simultaneously with the passage of the Six Articles, that his contempt of the See of Rome was stronger than ever. Marillac wrote that on June 15 there was played on the river in the King’s presence ‘a game of poor grace, much less invention, of two galleys, one carrying the King’s arms, the other the Pope’s, with several Cardinals’ hats (so he was told, for he would have deemed it contrary to duty to be a spectator). The galleys fought a long time, and ultimately those of the King were victorious, and threw the Pope and Cardinals and their arms into the water, to show people that this King will entirely confound and abolish the power of the Holy Father[635].’ Demonstrations like this were of course mainly intended to impress people at home. Let us now examine the effect of the Six Articles abroad, first in Germany, and then in France and Spain.
The rather large hopes of a religious agreement which Henry had held out to the leaders of the Schmalkaldic League early in the year, merely as a bait to induce them to favour the political alliance with Cleves, had finally, owing to Cromwell’s representations, been accepted in all seriousness by John Frederic of Saxony and Philip of Hesse. They soon sent over another embassy under the leadership of Burckhard and Ludwig von Baumbach, a councillor of the Landgrave, which arrived in London on April 23. Henry was not yet quite sure of his ground with Marillac, and had not fully decided what note should be struck in the ‘devise in the parliament for the vnitie in religion,’ so at first he received the Germans cordially[636]. On April 29 they were granted an audience, in which Henry, though he carefully avoided committing himself to any definite promises of an alliance, spoke in the warmest terms of the Elector and Landgrave, cautioned the Lutherans against the treachery of the Emperor, and boasted long and loud because of the recent collapse of an expedition against England which, according to Wriothesley’s report, had been preparing in Flanders since the previous February[637]. A subsequent interview of the ambassadors with Cromwell and other members of the Privy Council was equally satisfactory, and Burckhard and Baumbach were convinced that their mission would ultimately be crowned with success. Had they understood the meaning of the many excuses which were offered for the failure to begin definite negotiations at once, the opening of Parliament and the difficulty of gaining access to the King, they might have been less encouraged. Henry merely wished to detain them until he had made perfectly sure that they could be of no more use to him. His relations with France were improving every day, but he had not yet made sure of the state of affairs in the dominions of the Emperor. On February 24, at Frankfort, the Electors of Brandenburg and the Palatinate had opened negotiations with the Imperial plenipotentiary, the Archbishop of Lund, in the hope of mediating between Charles and the princes of the SchmalkaldicLeague[638]; Henry had determined to learn the result of this meeting before giving the ambassadors a definite answer. The news of the truce concluded between the Emperor and the Lutherans on the 19th of April was finally announced in London towards the middle of May: it at once decided the King to send the envoys home empty-handed again, for it was obviously useless to continue negotiations for an alliance, which was primarily to have been directed against the very power with which the Schmalkaldner had just made a temporary peace. So much had Henry been encouraged by the favourable signs of the past few weeks, that he would probably have succeeded in finding an excuse for dismissing Burckhard and Baumbach, even if the result of the negotiations between the Emperor and the Schmalkaldner had been reversed; as it was he was spared the trouble of exercising much ingenuity, for, most unfortunately for the ambassadors, one of the clauses in the Frankfort agreement contained a provision which in itself was quite sufficient to stultify all their efforts. In the seventh article of their treaty with the Emperor, the Schmalkaldner had agreed not to admit any new members into their league during the period of the truce. There is every reason to think that this provision was especially directed against the English negotiations, for both Brandenburg and the Count Palatine had always looked with disfavour on the attempts of Saxony and Hesse to gain the alliance of Henry, and doubtless availed themselves of this opportunity to persuade the Schmalkaldner to put an end to them. In any case the King lost no time in acting upon the intelligence he had received, and at once complained to Burckhard and Baumbach, whose excuses and explanations were of no avail. Wearisome disputes and attempts at a compromise ensued: the question of reciprocity was discussed at length; the envoys insisting that England was sure to derive quite as much benefit from the proposed alliance as the Lutherans, the King and his ministers in turn demanding concessions which they knew that the ambassadors were not authorizedto grant. So reluctant were the latter to return without having accomplished anything however, that it was only with the utmost difficulty that Henry finally succeeded in getting rid of them. To a blunt request that they depart the envoys only replied with continued petitions for a more favourable answer to their demands: finally, with pleasing frankness, they begged that His Majesty would let himself be guided by the truth alone in directing the religious controversies then in progress in Parliament. Henry made no effort to conceal from Burckhard and Baumbach the anger which this ill-timed and incautious request aroused in him, for he probably realized that his best chance of hastening the departure of the Lutherans lay in involving himself in some sort of an altercation with them. We are not surprised to read that both parties immediately became engaged in a violent discussion concerning the celibacy of the clergy—in the midst of which the ambassadors apparently beat a somewhat precipitate retreat: they seem at last to have had the wit to realize that they had to do with a theologian, with whom it was extremely dangerous to disagree. A fruitless interview with Cromwell followed, and on May 31 the envoys finally departed[639]. In the meantime the Elector and the Landgrave had continued to show touching but unwarranted confidence in the sincerity of Henry’s professions, and had remained in utter ignorance of the true state of affairs in England. Their hopes of a speedy settlement of religious differences had doubtless received considerable encouragement through the efforts of Dr. Barnes, who had been earnestly labouring to remove the disagreeable impression which Henry had made on Christian III. by his blundering Lübeck policy in 1534. Barnes had been sent to Hamburg for this purpose early in the year. He was himself an ardent Protestant who never once suspected the possibility of a Catholic reaction in England; and as his zeal more than supplied the lack of diplomatic skill, his efforts seem to have met with great success[640]. The King of Denmark was now in closealliance with John Frederic, and Barnes was soon enabled to persuade them to arrange to send a joint embassy to the King of England to treat of the political league which was to follow a theological agreement[641]. But at this juncture Burckhard and Baumbach returned with a very discouraging report, which obtained full confirmation by the news which arrived a week later, that the Six Articles had actually been passed[642]. The enthusiasm of the Lutherans was of course considerably dampened, and they wrote to Henry that if a league was to be treated of at all, he would have to be the one to send ambassadors; they could not themselves venture to visit England because of the machinations against the Evangelical cause there[643]. Even in Cleves, where Henry and Cromwell had sought an alliance of a purely political nature, unhampered by religious restrictions, the news of the passage of the Six Articles created profound distrust, and we may well believe that John Frederic discouraged his brother-in-law from continuing negotiations with England, after the proof of Henry’s perfidy that he had just received. We are not surprised to find that the matrimonial projects which formed the basis of the alliance with Cleves came to a complete standstill during the month of July. The proposals for a match between Duke William and the Princess Mary had apparently never been very popular: they were now definitely abandoned and never revived. To the other plan, for a marriage of Henry and the Duchess Anne, an unexpected objection had arisen. It appears that ever since 1527 a plan for a marriage between the King’s intended bride and the son of Duke Anthony of Lorraine had been under discussion. For twelve years the form of continuing the negotiations for this union had been kept up on both sides, with the idea of bringing pressure on the Emperor, though all hope of an actual completion of the match must have been abandoned long before this time. But now that the union with England seemed less desirable, the Duke of Cleves of course made the most of the opportunity of evading the requests of Henry that was afforded by the Lorraine affair. The claims ofDuke Anthony and his son would have to be satisfied, he said, before his sister could be offered to Henry[644].
Altogether it looked as if the German alliance would be abandoned, and Cromwell, who of all people was most deeply involved in it, must have been roused to a sense of his danger. But the threatened reversal of his policy was destined to be postponed once more. For it soon appeared that the exultation of the King at the apparent success of his own plans was premature. We have seen that it was largely in the hope of conciliating Francis and Charles by removing their main pretext for an attack on England that Henry had caused the Six Articles to be passed. But the Act did not accomplish what was expected of it. The courtesy of Marillac had given Henry a very exaggerated idea of the cordiality of France. He did not see that Francis was merely dallying with him, and had no idea of a permanent friendship. The fact that Charles had refused to listen to the proposals of Cardinal Pole had also been regarded as a good omen[645]. But when it appeared that dread of the Turks, who had advanced up the Adriatic, was the sole cause of the Emperor’s apparent unwillingness to offend England, and it was rumoured that there was immediate prospect of another interview between him and Francis, Henry discovered his mistake[646]. All the fair hopes he had entertained of preventing the dreaded coalition against England were apparently blasted. The doctrinal statement from which he had expected so much had proved but a feeble weapon with which to arrest the current of continental politics. He could consider himself fortunate if the Six Articles and his own personal rudeness to the German ambassadors had not been sufficient to preclude all hope of a return to the alliance, which a few months before he had abandoned as useless, but which now seemed to offer the one chance for England’s safety. Once more the policy of Cromwell seemed justified, and Henry was forced to acknowledge it.
Fortunately for England, the situation, alarming as it was, had even more terrors for the Duke of Cleves than for Henry.Charles’ refusal to ratify the treaty of Frankfort had once more blighted the hopes of a peaceful solution of the difficulties in Germany[647]; in May the outbreak of a serious rebellion in Ghent made it imperative for the Emperor to appear in person in the Netherlands, and in early August Francis sent him an invitation to pass through France on his way to the Low Countries. The prospect that Charles, in close alliance with his former rival, would soon be brought within striking distance of Gelderland, was by no means agreeable to Duke William. It was fairly obvious that Charles would bend his energies to punishing the Duke of Cleves for his contempt of the Imperial authority, before attempting to chastise the King of England for the general weal of Christendom. The Duke of Cleves was much more practical than his brother-in-law: like Henry he never let religious considerations or conscientious scruples weigh against the dictates of political expediency. As soon as the news of the Emperor’s invitation from Francis was confirmed, Duke William’s doubts concerning the pre-contract of his sister Anne and the son of the Duke of Lorraine were cleared up with gratifying celerity. He probably had some difficulty in obtaining the consent of the more scrupulous John Frederic to a renewal of the negotiations with England, but his urgency was such that he triumphed over every obstacle. A messenger from Burckhard to Cromwell in the end of August was followed in early September by four ambassadors from Cleves and Saxony who were authorized to conclude the match[648]. The King must have been greatly relieved at the arrival of the envoys. Since May 3 he had heard nothing from his friends in Cleves except for the famous description of his intended bride, which his ambassador Wotton had sent him, for lack of other news. Anne appears to have been of very ‘lowly and gentleconditions. . . .She occupieth her time most with the needle, wherwithall she. . .She canne reede and wryte her [own tongue but of] Frenche Latyn or other langaige she [knows no]ne, nor yet she canne not synge nor pleye. . .enye instrument, for they take it heere inGermanye for a rebuke and an occasion of lightenesse, that great ladyes shuld be lernyd or have enye knowledge of musike. . .your Graces servant Hanze Albein hathe taken theffigies of my lady Anne and the ladye Amelye and hath expressyd theyr imaiges verye lyvelye[649].’ In the end it proved unfortunate for Cromwell that this letter, and the portrait which Holbein made[650]were not sufficient to turn the King against her, without the need of further confirmation. But even if Wotton’s description had been far less flattering, it is doubtful if he could have persuaded Henry to abandon the Cleves marriage at this crisis. The King was now as reckless in accepting the alliance as he had been a few months before in refusing it. He perhaps forgot that though his zeal for the national welfare had never been hampered by religion or conscience, he had not yet put his patriotism to the more practical test of a sacrifice of matrimonial bliss. So the preliminaries of the match were hurried through with a speed quite as remarkable as the delays in the previous negotiations with the Lutherans. The ambassadors departed on October 6 to return to Cleves and conduct Anne to Calais, where a noble company assembled to welcome her, Gregory Cromwell being among the number[651]. Such were the delays of travelling in those times (Wotton wrote to Cromwell that the lady’s party could only make five miles a day[652]) that Anne of Cleves did not arrive at Calais until December 11, and there she waited till the 27th, for weather sufficiently favourable for her crossing[653].
Having landed, she proceeded to Canterbury, whereCranmer welcomed her with due pomp and ceremony. He had received from Cromwell fifty sovereigns to be presented to her on her arrival, and promised to do his best to induce the townspeople to give her fifty angels more[654]. From Canterbury Anne journeyed on to Sittingbourne and Rochester, where she was received on December 31 by the Duke of Norfolk, with a great company of nobles[655]. When Henry heard of her arrival there he determined to visit her in disguise, and, accompanied by eight persons of his Privy Chamber, he rode down to Rochester on New Year’s Day and saw for the first time his intended bride[656]. It is unfortunate that we possess no trustworthy information concerning the impression which Anne made on Henry at this first meeting. A letter which Cromwell wrote to the King, six months later, from the Tower states that when Henry, on his return from Rochester, was asked how he liked the Queen, he had answered ‘hevelye And not plesantlye “nothing so well as She was spokyn of”,’ and had added that had he known as much as he then knew ‘she shold not haue Commen within this Realme[657].’ It will be seen in a later chapter, however, that Cromwell wrote this letter under circumstances which rendered it very improbable that he told the exact truth: there is every reason to think that he greatly exaggerated the aversion which Henry first conceived for Anne of Cleves. In any case if Henry felt any such disgust as Cromwell described, he succeeded admirably in dissembling his feelings. Two days after the meeting at Rochester, he rode in state to meet his bride at Greenwich, and on January 6 he married her. ‘The sonday after,’ Hall adds, ‘there were kepte solempne Justes,. . .on whiche daie she was appareiled after the Englishe fassion, with a Frenche whode, whiche so set furth her beautie and good visage, that euery creature reioysed to behold her[658].’
It is important to notice that even in this hour of national peril, Henry did not make any overtures to the Elector of Saxony or the Landgrave of Hesse. Not even the immediate prospect of war with France and Spain could induce him to go as far as this and to bind himself by ties religious as well as political. Even Cromwell had by this time discovered the uselessness of endeavouring to persuade the King to return to an alliance of which he had never really approved; more than this, he at last seemed to realize, that as advocate of a policy which his master had definitely abandoned, he ran great danger of losing his influence if not his life. It was rather late for him to attempt to break away from a plan with which his name had become identified; but he saw that he must purchase safety at the cost of consistency, and he took care in future to discourage all efforts of the Lutherans to come to an agreement. The reception accorded to an embassy which the firm but persistent Schmalkaldner sent to England in January 1540, and the words which Cromwell spoke to the ambassador on that occasion give us a very clear insight into the attitude of the King’s minister[659]. It was the last attempt which the Lutherans made to treat with England during Cromwell’s ministry, and its failure marks the end of the negotiations which had begun with the mission of Vaughan and Mont in 1533. Philip of Hesse had sent his councillor, Ludwig von Baumbach, to Henry’s Court once more, with instructions to express to the King his sorrow at the passage of the Six Articles, and his hope that they would not lead to any action contrary to the word of God and the truth of the Gospels. The Landgrave also trusted that the King would not suffer the negotiations with the Lutherans to drop, but the ambassador was to make it clear that a political alliance would be conditional, as always, on religious agreement[660].
Baumbach arrived early in January and immediately betook himself to Cromwell, whom he evidently considered the best friend the Lutherans had at the English Court. But thistime he met with a cold reception[661]. The minister kept asking him if he had power to conclude a political alliance—a perfectly safe question, for no one knew better than Cromwell that the Lutherans would insist on doctrinal reconciliation in the first place. Baumbach tried to give an evasive answer, but was soon summoned to Henry, who repeated his minister’s demand with still greater directness. The ambassador could only reply that he must consult with Burckhard, who having returned with Anne of Cleves to England, was still in London. On January 12 the two Lutherans had a conversation with Cromwell, in which the latter defined his position with absolute clearness. He told the ambassadors that the King desired a political alliance with them, but that this must come first; the religious question could be settled later. Baumbach and Burckhard answered that this was impossible; nothing could be done until a theological agreement had been concluded. At this Cromwell could contain himself no longer. With almost pathetic frankness he turned to the Lutherans and told them that he plainly saw what they wanted in regard to religion; but, as the world stood then, that he must hold to the same belief as his master, even if it cost him his life[662]. Such was the faith of the man who six months later was brought tothe block on the charge of counter-working the King in matters of religion! There is little need to dwell on the rest of Baumbach’s stay in England. He had another interview with Henry, who, angered at the firmness of the Lutherans on the religious question, now took occasion to throw contempt on their usefulness as political allies. He told some preposterous lies to Baumbach, informing him that he had heard nothing of the danger of the coalition of Charles and Francis of which the envoy talked so much, although he had faithful ambassadors at both Courts. Even if he were attacked, he said, he was fully able to defend himself, owing to England’s insular position and strong navy, which was well manned by his own subjects. German soldiers, on the contrary, would be of little use to him as sailors, for they would certainly be always seasick. After making a few counter-proposals which he knew would never be accepted, he dismissed Baumbach with a polite but non-committal message to the Landgrave, and Cromwell, who bade the envoy farewell on January 21, followed suit. But though the minister had used this last mission of the Lutherans mainly as an opportunity to break away from the policy which he had hitherto advocated, but which he now realized the danger of being connected with, his efforts to save himself were too late. We shall see in the next chapter that the events of the previous years had so thoroughly identified him with the Lutheran alliance in the minds of the people, that his enemies were enabled to make use of his supposed adherence to it, as a pretext for conspiring his ruin.
The Lutherans did not send another embassy to England for a long time. Negotiations were not resumed until more than four years later, when the situation had entirely changed, and even then they failed as signally as before. But though Henry had thus dealt the death blow to the hopes of the Schmalkaldner, he did not suffer the year 1539 to close without attempting to form an alliance of a very different sort with another prince of the Empire. As soon as he had heard of the failure of the plan for the marriage of the Princess Mary and the Duke of Cleves, Henry began to lookabout for another German husband for his daughter. It was doubtless with the royal authority that Christopher Mont had let fall a casual hint in conversation with a certain Nürnberg merchant named Gundelfynger, that Henry would gladly see Mary wedded to a prince of the Empire. The merchant responded by proposing Duke Philip of Bavaria as a suitable candidate for her hand. This prince was a member of the Palatinate branch of the Wittelsbach family, and a nephew of the Elector Louis. He had been a faithful servant of the Emperor and his brother Ferdinand in the first outbreaks of the religious strife after the formation of the Schmalkaldic League, and had been severely wounded in a brave attempt to oppose the Hessian lanzknechts at the battle of Laufen[663]. In spite of the fact that he belonged to a notoriously wavering family, he appears to have been a firm adherent of the Old Faith, at least at the time of which we are speaking. But on the other hand he was certainly loyal to every tradition of Wittelsbach impecuniosity. He had sacrificed all his property in the Emperor’s service, and Charles had characteristically refused to make good his losses, and had also insulted him by opposing his suit for the hand of the Duchess of Milan. A financially successful marriage seemed to offer Philip the only chance of recovering his lost fortunes, and it was at this juncture that the possibility of a match with the daughter of the rich King of England was opened to him. The proposal of Gundelfynger seems to have met with Henry’s approval, and he soon signified to Philip his desire that the latter should visit him in England. The Duke jumped at the chance to conclude a marriage which promised so many pecuniary advantages, and his anger at the ingratitude of Charles certainly did not make him any less anxious to listen to Henry’s proposals. He arrived in London on December 8[664], and at first the negotiations for the match proceeded with unexpected rapidity. Against two points on which Henry insisted, however, Philip raised strong objections[665]: the firstwas that he should take Mary as a bastard, ‘incapable by the laws and statutes of the realm of claiming any succession or title by right of inheritance,’ The second was the King’s refusal to except the name of the Pope from the list of those against whom the financial and political agreement which was to accompany the marriage was to be concluded: Philip, as a faithful Catholic, was apparently at first unwilling to enter a league which might bring him into conflict with the See of Rome. But the firmness of the King, coupled with the great financial profits which the match promised to Philip, finally triumphed over the religious scruples of the Wittelsbacher, and on January 24 he signed a treaty in which he accepted the marriage and the compact under the conditions on which Henry insisted: the agreement, however, was not to be considered binding unless Philip could get it ratified by his relatives in Germany before Whitsuntide, 1540. He left England, January 27, for this purpose, but his attempts were unsuccessful, and the proposal came to nothing. It was taken up a second time at a later date, and again abandoned. But though the scheme finally fell through there are a few interesting things to be noticed in connexion with the negotiations for it, which serve to make clear the trend things were taking at the time of Philip’s visit in London.
The whole affair was carried on so secretly, and we have so little documentary evidence, that it is very difficult to form any certain conclusions concerning this attempted compact. The name of Cromwell figures prominently in connexion with it; we find Duke Philip consulting with the minister at his house, and visiting the Princess Mary in his company[666]; but it is pretty obvious that all the negotiations were conducted throughout with the full approval of the King, and not, as was the case with the Lutheran affair, partially in opposition to the royal wishes. For the scheme was radically different from the proposed Lutheran alliance which had failed, and not exactly similar to the union with Cleves which had just been completed. It was far more cautious and non-committal than either of them, and it was for this reason thatHenry liked it. In the first place, Philip was a Catholic, so that an agreement with him involved no contradiction to the doctrines proclaimed in the Six Articles. In the second place, he was ostensibly a close ally of the Emperor’s and a member of the Imperial Order of the Golden Fleece[667], though, as we have seen, the ingratitude of Charles after his services in Germany must necessarily have tended to make their relations less cordial. Henry was doubtless accurately informed of all this, and saw in an agreement with a member of this powerful though vacillating Wittelsbach family, an opportunity to gain valuable aid in case he were really attacked, without ostensibly committing himself to a policy which would at any time prevent a return to cordial relations with France and Spain. In the next chapter we shall see that it was precisely during Philip’s visit at the English Court that Henry’s hopes of staving off the dreaded coalition of Charles and Francis against him were once more revived in a most unexpected way. The terms of the agreement which he attempted to conclude with the Duke may thus be regarded as the first intimation of the complete reversal of England’s foreign policy which was witnessed by the first six months of the year 1540. According to the draft of a treaty drawn up in England to be presented to Philip for his approval, the Duke was to send to the King’s assistance the number of —— horse and foot if Henry was attacked by any prince or private person, and was further to aid the King if he made war for the recovery of any right of which he was defrauded[668]. We unfortunately do not possess the original copy of the treaty signed on January 24, but in an account of Philip’s life by his brother Ottheinrich, it appears that the final agreement was that the Duke should furnish the King with 1,000 horsemen and 4,000 foot-soldiers against everyone except the Roman Empire[669]. The exception of the ‘Roman Empire,’ which was probably introduced at Philip’s request,was a provision of so vague a nature that it could not bind either party very strictly; it certainly could not have applied to a coalition of Charles and Francis, which was all that Henry wanted, and it had the additional advantage that it made it appear that the compact was not especially directed against the Emperor, and so could not be resented by him. On the subject of the Pope and the illegitimacy of Mary, the King, as we have seen, had remained firm: to yield to Philip on these two points would simply have been to stultify all the work of the previous ten years, a step which Henry, even in the gravest peril, was not prepared to take. But the other terms of the agreement were precisely to his taste. The new treaty could be very useful if the crisis came, and yet it was so arranged that with his well-known ability for quibbling, the King could easily throw it over, if his hopes of a change for the better in his relations with France and Spain were actually fulfilled. It thus stands out in sharp contrast to the Lutheran alliance which Cromwell had advocated, and which, if it had been accomplished, would have irrevocably committed England to permanent hostility to Charles. The terms of the treaty with Philip were cautious, carefully guarded, and strictly non-committal; the Lutheran alliance, had it been carried through, would have been rash, definite, and irrevocable. The contrast between the two schemes is the contrast between the policies of Henry and Cromwell. Though the treaty with Philip was never ratified and the agreement which it proposed was thus never destined to succeed, the fact that so many efforts were made to accomplish it at the very moment that the negotiations with the Lutherans, of which Cromwell had been the chief supporter, were finally abandoned, is very significant in revealing the relative positions of King and minister at the opening of the year 1540.
Briefly to review the state of affairs at this critical juncture. The dread of an attack by the joint forces of France and Spain, which had hung over England for more than a year, seemed to call for a defensive league with some outside power. But even in this hour of national peril the King did not forget the lesson that he had learned at Wolsey’sfall: he remembered that the situation on the Continent had often changed before and was likely to do so again, and therefore in his search for a foreign alliance he took the greatest pains to keep his hand free. Cromwell, on the contrary, was now too far advanced in the policy he had followed since the summer of 1538 to be able to retreat from it, though the warning conveyed by the reaction of June, 1539 had certainly opened his eyes to the dangers of the course he pursued. But it was in vain that he attempted to persuade his master to sanction an alliance with the Lutherans. Henry refused to consent to any move which would bind him as permanently as this. Instead the King directed his efforts towards concluding an agreement of a very different nature with Duke Philip of Bavaria, but his demands were so great that this scheme also failed, owing to the unwillingness of the other members of the Wittelsbach family to ratify the treaty. The only alliance which did materialize was that with Cleves. It was a sort of compromise between the Lutheran and the Bavarian plans; it committed England less definitely than the one, though more so than the other. But the responsibility for it had been made to rest entirely on Cromwell’s shoulders, and the minister must have realized that his safety depended on its success. While it was under negotiation, the danger from France and Spain seemed so threatening that the policy of Cromwell was apparently justified. Almost at the moment of its completion, however, events took place which totally changed the aspect of affairs, called for the abandonment of the alliance with Cleves, and led to the ruin of the man whose fortunes were identified with it. What these events were will be seen in the succeeding chapter.