Annales of England Containing the reignes of Henry the Eighth. Edward the Sixt. Queene Mary. Written in Latin by the Right Honorable and Right Reverend Father in God, Francis Lord Bishop of Hereford. Thus Englished, corrected and inlarged with the author's consent, by Morgan Godwyn.

Anno Dom. 1529. Reg. 21.

* 1.1 AT length about the beginning of Aprill the King residing at Bridewell, at the Blacke Friers in London began the suit concerning the King's Divorce. There was that to be seene, the like where∣of the Histories of no other Nation afford: A most puissant Monarch, actually Soveraigne and bea∣ring rule in his Realme, being cited by the voice of of an Apparitor, made his appearance personally be∣fore the Iudges. The ceremonies in a matter so vn∣usuall, and indeed otherwise of great moment, require an accurate and large relation beyond the intended shortnesse of this Historie. A Chaire of State where∣to was an ascent of some steps was placed above for the King, and by the side of it another (but a little

lower) for the Queene. Before the King, at the fourth step sate the Legates, but so, as the one seemed to sit at his right hand, the other at the left. Next to the Legates stood the Apparitors and other Officers of the Court, and among them GARDINER (after Bishop of Winchester) appointed Register in this bu∣sinesse. Before the Iudges within the limits of the Court sate the Archbishop of Canterbury with all the other Bishops of the Realme. At the farther end of each side were the Advocates and Proctors retained for each partie: for the King, SAMPSON after Bi∣shop of Chichester, BELL after Bishop of Worcester, TREGONEL, and PETERS Father to the now Lord PETERS, all Doctours of Law: For the Queene, FISHER Bishop of Rochester, and STAN∣DISH Bishop of Saint Assaph, with RIDLEY (Doctor whether of Divinitie or Law I know not, but one) who had the esteeme of a very learned man. All things being thus formally ordered, the Appari∣tor willed by the Register to cite the King, cried, HENRY King of England come into the Court, who answered, Here I am. The Queene being likewise ci∣ted (CATHARINE Queene of England come into the Court) made no answere, but rising from her seate went directly to the King, to whom on her knees, purposely raising her voice that every one might heare her, shee is reported to have spoken to this effect:

* 1.2 Sir, J humbly beseech your Maiestie so to deale with me at this present, that I may nei∣ther have cause to complaine of Iniustice, nor that you have debarred me the favour of your wonted Clemency. J am here a Woman and a Stranger, destitute of Friends and Counsaile, so that plead for my selfe J cannot, and whom

J may else employ, J know not. My kindred and Friends are farre off, neither can J safely rely on any here in a matter of so great conse∣quence. They that are here retained for mee, are no other, then whom you have beene pleased to appoint, and are your owne Subiects, who if they would deale vprightly (which few will be∣leeve they dare do) yet can they not here with∣stand your determinate will and pleasure. But what have wretched J committed, that after twenty yeares spent in peaceable wedlocke, and having borne you so many Children, you should now at length thinke of putting me away? I was J confesse the Widow of your Brother, if at least she may be accompted a Widow, whom her hus∣band never knew. For I take Almighty God to witnesse, and J am perswaded you cannot be ignorant of it, that I came to your bed an vn∣spotted Ʋirgin; from which time how J haue behaved my selfe, I am content to appeale even to them, whosoever they are, that do wish mee least good. Certainly whatsoever their Ʋerdict may be, you have alwayes found me a most faith∣full (servant I may better say, then) wife, ha∣ving never to my knowledge withstood your pleasure so much as in shew. J alwayes loved those, whom J thought you favoured, without questioning their deserts. J so carefully farthe∣red

and procured your pleasures, that I rather feare, I have offended God in too much indea∣vouring your content, then that I have any way failed in the least performance of my duty. By this my observance vnto you, if so be you ever thought it worthy of reguard, by our common Is∣sue, by the memory of my Father, whom you sometimes held deare, I do humbly beg, that you would be pleased to defer the farther hearing of this cause, vntill having sent into Spaine, I may thence be advised by my Friends, in this case what course to take. If then in Iustice it shall be thought meet to rend me from you, a part of whom I have so long beene (the apprehension whereof doth more terrifie me, then death) I will even in this continue my long observed course of obedience. But as often as I bethinke me of the wisdome of Our Parents, by whose indevours and consent this Match was ratified, J cannot but hope very well of my cause. Your Father was for his admirable wisdome accomp∣ted a second Salomon, neither can Spaine throughout the whole Successions of the Kings of so many Kingdomes produce any one, who may parallell my Father Ferdinand: and what kinde of Counsailours must we thinke these Princes had, that all should as it were conspire to hurle Ʋs into the miseries of an incectuous

Marriage? No question was then made con∣cerning the lawfulnesse of this Match, and yet those times afforded learned men, yea and (whereof to my harme I have had experimen∣tall knowledge) in holinesse of life and love of the Truth far surpassing the Flatterers of these times.

(VVhich last wordes shee therefore spake, because shee had heard, that all the Bishops of the Realme had by a common Decree pronounced against the Marriage. And indeed such a Decree subscribed and sealed by each of them was afterward in the presence of the King read publiquely in the Court, Fisher Bishop of Rochester excep∣ting against it, who denied, that hee had as∣sented to it, and obiected forgery to the Archbishop of Canterbury for putting to it in steed of Bishop Fishers, a false Seale and a counterfeit hand.)

* 1.3 The Queene having spoken thus much, arising, af∣ter her due obeisance to the King, when every one expected shee would have returned to her seate▪ made hast out of the Court. Every one amazedly wonders what the Queene intends. But before shee had gone far, the King commanded the Apparitor to call her backe againe: The Apparitor obeying, the Gentle∣man who supported her, told her she was called; to whom shee replied, I heare it very well, but go you on. I cannot hope for iustice in this Court: let them proceed a∣gainst me in what manner they will, I am resolved not to stay. So away shee went, and would never after be

persuaded to make her appearance either personally or by a Protector. After she was gone▪ the King com∣mended her in those termes, that might befit a great affection and her excellent vertues: withall prote∣sting how desirous he was to continue in that estate, so that neither his soule nor the Common-wealth might be endange∣red by it. Here WOLSEY interrupted him, beseeching his Maiestie, that forasmuch as it was bruited, that hee had persuaded Him to this Divorce; His Maiesty would vouch∣safe to signifie to the present Assembly how farre this report was true. The King, although that hee knew that in this fame lied not, yet to secure his Favourite from the generall hate of the people, affirmed, the Bishop of Bayeux having first made scruple of it, to have first advised him to this course, and that the Bishop of Lin∣colne his Confessor, and other Bishops with whom he had conferred, did the like. These were the Acts of the first day.

* 1.4 This case was for a moneth or two held in contro∣uersie, the Kings Advocates alledging, that

It was not in the Popes power to ratifie this Marriage, which as prohibited by the Law of Nature the Scripture had pronounced vnlawfull: That Catharine had beene lawful∣ly married to Prince Arthur the King's elder Brother, and that the Nuptials were publique∣ly solemnized, no man could deny: and many circumstances did manifest the consummation of the Marriage by a carnall coniunction.

* 1.5 On the otherside the Queenes Advocates main∣tained,

The Law which forbad the Iewes to mar∣rie their Brothers wife, to bee Iudiciall and

not Morall, and therefore abrogated by Christ: but so far forth as the Church had re∣tained it, it was by the authority of the same Church dispensable, especially being they were confident, that the forealledged consummation could no way be proved.

Thus each side pleaded, and time passed on. The King observes Cardinall CAMPEGIVS to go more coldly to worke then he was wont, from whom Hee* 1.6 before this expected the promised decision. But for∣tune had since that turned her wheele. The Empe∣rours affaires prospered in Italy, and CLEMENT knew it was not the way to wipe out the remem∣brance of an old offence by committing a new. Hee found some other pretence to send one FRANCIS CAMPANA into England; but his chiefe errand was to will CAMPEGIVS to burne the Bull, whereby the King's marriage had before beene pronounced void, and to returne to Rome with speed. But the newes of the Popes sicknesse at the same time made him deferre the execution of his Mandate. For if CLEMENT should die, the Cardinall might with safetie gratifie the King, who had conferred on him the Bishopricke of Sarisbury, and to whom the Car∣dinall had promised successe answerable to his de∣sires: And if hee should permit the King to be thus illuded, he feared he might be accompted, not onely ingratefull, but also treacherous. But hee shortly vn∣derstood the Pope was well, whose Mandate he must obey, and the Bull as if for Here••ie must be condem∣ned to the fire.

In the meane time the King, who was deeply in loue with ANNE BOLEN, according to the nature of Lovers counting each minute by the houre, quick∣ly

resented this change, and never rested, vntill hee knew the whole carriage of the matter. Then first fell his wrath like thunder on WOLSEY, whose wit* 1.7 had hitherto made all his proiects feasible▪ And hee could not beleeve, but that it was in his power to effect this also▪ Here I cannot choose but cry out with Comoedian,

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IOVE and yee Gods, how hard a thing It is, to serve a raging King.

Full twenty yeares had WOLSEY served the King, behaving himselfe so, that hee grew power∣full and wealthy beyond a private fortune, and to the rest of the King's Titles had procured the addition of that rich one of, a good Prince. For as often as I con∣sider how laudably HENRY had hitherto ruled, and behold the calamities of ensuing times, I cannot but accord with them, who ascribe the sway which he did beare over all the Princes of Christendome to the ex∣cellency of WOLSEY his counsailes. But WOLSEY being taken away, to whom shall we impute those ef∣fects of Lust, Tyrannie, and Avarice, two Wives kil∣led, two put away, so many (and among them many of the greater sort) put to death for their Religion only, extremitie only differing in the manner vsed by Hanging against Papists, by Fire against Heretiques, (these were the termes of those dayes) & the Church (or rather the Common-wealth) horribly spoiled and robbed of her Patrimony? Certainly had WOLSEY sate at the Sterne, the King had never like a Ship de∣stitute of a Pilot, beene carried to and fro with such contrary and vncertaine motions. But inordinate

greatnesse is alwayes a burthen to it selfe, the waight whereof is augmented by the vsuall attendance of publique enny and hatred the misbegotten Elfes of long and powerfull happinesse.

WOLSEY, the King once offended, began present∣ly to totter, and at his first frowne as at the roaring of a Lion (before any harder course was taken with him) was so deiected, that although he after seemed a little to lift vp his head, yet was hee never able to stand on his feet. Nay, the King being once alienated from him would never after admit him to his presence. Behold power of base Detraction (yet I will not exclude the the greatnesse of the Cardinals wealth already devou∣red in conceit) which wipes away the remembrance of the faithfull service of so many yeares, and the consi∣deration of so great glory purchased to the King by WOLSEY'S labours. I am not ignorant what things were obiected against him. But they carry so little shew of probability, that I should much suspect his iudgement, that would give any credit to them. Vn∣till it was knowne that the King inraged at the slow proceedings in the cause of his Divorce did day and night breath out against him threats and revenge, no man ever preferred Bill against him, which conside∣ring the vsuall severe courses held by our Parliaments, must needs acquit him of Abuse of Power. As for the causes of the King's anger, wee will derive them rather from his owne discontents, then WOLSEY'S faultinesse.

The King by this time knew the treachery of the dissembling Pope. Hee had neere five yeares wande∣red in the Labyrinth of the Court of Rome, and could find no clue to lead him out. He therefore determi∣ned to make a way where he could not find one, and like ALEXANDER by force to vndoe that Gordian knot, which by wit and labour hee could not. To

WOLSEY therefore hee communicated his intent of marrying another whether the Pope were willing or no, wishing him withall to finde out some course or other, whereby CAMPEGIVS his Colleague (not∣withstanding the late Mandates to the contrary) might be drawne to give sentence on his side. Many things might be pretended to excuse the deed, but chiefly the feare of the King's high displeasure, which peradventure hee should feele too, vnlesse hee assented to the King's iust request. WOLSEY his answer to this I cannot relate. But this is certaine, that WOLSEY, whether for that he did not approve of the King's intended course seeming (as the times were then) full of rashnesse and insolence, or that he would not vndertake the attempting of his Col∣league, or that (as SLEIDAN writes) the King had notice, that the Cardinall had advised the Pope not to approve of the Divorce from CATHARINE, for∣asmuch as the King was then resolved to marry ano∣ther infected with Lutheranisme: WOLSEY I say was so sharply taken vp and threatned by the King, that even then you might reade in his face and ge∣stures the symptomes of his waining fortune. For the Cardinall at that time returning from the Court by water, the Bishop of Carlile being with him in the same Barge, complained of the heate which was then extraordinary: to whom WOLSEY replied, My Lord, if you had beene but now in my place, you would have found it hot indeed. And as soone as hee came home, he put off his clothes, and went sicke to bed. Before hee had reposed himselfe an houre and halfe, the Viscount Rochfort came to him, and in the King's Name willed, that hee and his Colleague should in∣stantly repaire to the Queene, and exhort her not to contend any longer with the King, for that it would be more for her good and the honour of them both

to submit herselfe to the King's pleasure, then to vn∣dergo the disgrace of a publique iudgement. For it was now brought to that push, that longer deferred* 1.8 it could not be. The Cardinall advertised of the King's pleasure did arise, and with his Colleague went to the Queene, who having notice of their comming, went forth and met them. After mutuall salutations the Cardinals desired shee would vouchsafe a few words in private, but the Queene refused to entertaine any conference with them but where she might have witnesses of what passed. WOLSEY then began to speake in Latine, but the Queene interrupted him, willing, that although she vnderstood Latin, yet hee should speake in English. So in the names of both* 1.9 Legates he began a speech in English, wherein hee professed a great deale of observance and dutie to her, and that they came to no other end, but to advise her for her* 1.10 good. The Queene answered them much after this manner:

As for your good will, I thanke you: as for your advise, I will give you the hearing. But the matter (I beleeve) about which you come, is of so great importance, that it will require a great deale of deliberation, and the helpe of a braine surpassing that of feminine weaknesse. You see my employments (shewing them a skaine of white thred hanging about her necke) in these I spend my time among my Maides, which indeed are none of the greatest Counsailers: yet I have none other in England, and Spaine (where they are on whom I dare relie) God wot is farre enough hence: yet I am

content to heare what you have to say, and will give you an answere when we can conveniently.

So taking the Cardinall by the hand, she brought them into a withdrawing roome, where having at∣tentively heard out their message, shee made this re∣ply:

That now after twenty yeares the lawful∣nesse of my marriage should be questioned, I can∣not sufficiently wonder, especially when I consi∣der who were the Authours of it: Many of them are yet alive both in England and Spaine: and what kind of men the rest were, who are now dead; the world knowes: Henry and Ferdi∣nand our Parents the most sage Princes of their time, and their Counsaile such without doubt, who for their wisdome were approved of as fit servants for so iudicious Masters, besides the Pope, whose Dispensation J have to shew, and which was procured by my Father at no small rate. But what thing is there so sincere and firme, which enuy will not seeke to blast. Of these my miseries I can accuse none but you, my Lord of Yorke. Because I could not away with your monstrous pride, excessive riot, whoredome, and intolerable oppression, there∣fore do I now suffer. And yet not only for this: for some part of your hatred I am beholding to my Nephew the Emperour, whom, for that he did not satisfie your insatiable ambition by ad∣vancing

you to the Papacy, you have ever since maligned. You threatned to be revenged on him and his Friends, and you have performed your promise; for you have beene the onely in∣cendiarie and plotter of all the mischiefe and wars against him these late yeares. And J am his Aunt, whom how you have persecuted, by raising this new doubt, God only knowes, to whose iudgement only I commend my cause.

This Shee spake in French, as it seemed very much moved, and would not endure to heare WOLSEY speake in defence of himselfe, but courteously dis∣missed CAMPEGIVS.

It was now Iune, and the Harvest drawing on, the Legates thought it high time to make an end of this suite. A day therefore being prefixed, many of the Nobility, and a multitude of the Commonaltie repai∣red to the Court, verily expecting, that iudgement should have beene given for the King. HENRY (ha∣ving I know not how conceived some hope of the Legates good intents) caused a seat to bee placed for himselfe behind the hangings, vnder the covert wher∣of he might vnseene heare whatsoever was spoken or passed in Court. The Cardinals being seated, the King's Advocates earnestly requiring that sentence might be given on their side, CAMPEGIVS made this Oration well beseeming the constancy of a man not vnworthy of the place he supplied.

* 1.11 J have heard and diligently examined what∣soever hath beene alledged in the King's be∣halfe. And indeed the arguments are such, that I might and ought pronounce for the King, if

two reasons did not controll and curbe my de∣sires of doing his Matestie right: The Queene (you see) withdrawes her selfe from the iudge∣ment of this Court, having before vs excepted against the partialitie of the place, where (she saith) nothing can be determined without the consent of the Plaintife. Moreover his Ho∣linesse (who is the fountaine and life of our au∣thorit••e) hath by a messenger given vs to vn∣derstand, that hee hath reserved this cause for his owne hearing: so that if wee would never so faine proceed any farther, peradventure wee cannot, J am sure wee may not. Wherefore (which only remaineth) I doe heere dissolve the Court: Other then this (as the case stands) I cannot do: and I beseech them, whom this Cause concernes, to take in good part what I have done. Which if they will not, although it may trouble me, yet not so much, as to reguard the threats of any one. I am a feeble old man, and see death so neere me, that in a matter of so great consequence neither hope, nor feare, nor any other respect, but that of the Supreme Iudge, before whom I finde my selfe ready to appeare, shall sway me.

How the King was pleased at this you may easily conceive. It is reported, that the Duke of Suffolke knowing the King to be present, and conscious of his infirmitie, in a great rage leaping out of his chaire

bountifully bestowed a volley of curses vpon the Le∣gates, saying It was never well with England, since it had any thing to doe with Cardinalls. To whom WOLSEY returned a few wordes, saying, That it was not in his power to proceed without Authoritie from the Pope, and that no man ought to accuse them for not doing that, whereto their power did not extend.

But the Kings implacable anger admitted of no excuse: WOLSEY himselfe must become a sacrifice to appease it. As for CAMPEGIVS, hee tasted neverthelesse of the King's bountie, and had leave to depart. But at Calais his carriages were searched by the King's command. The pretence was, that WOLSEY intending an escape, had by CAMPE∣GIVS convaied his treasures for Rome But the Bull was the Treasure so much sought after. The King could not beleive it was burned; and if it were found, it was enough to countenance his second marriage. But found it was not, no nor scarce so much money in all the Cardinals carriages, as had beene given him by the King.

WOLSEY his rising and his fall were alike so∣daine; neither of them by degrees, but as the Lion gets his prey, by leapes. Shortly after the departure of his Colleague, vpon the eighteene of October, the* 1.12 Dukes of Norfolke and Suffolke in his Maiesties name commanded him to surrender the Great Seale. But he pleaded, That the King had by Patent made him Lord Chancellour during terme of life, and by consequence com∣mitted the custodie of the great Seale to him: Neverthe∣lesse hee would resigne his place, if his Maiestie so com∣manded. But hee thought it not fit, having received the Seale from the King, to deliver it to any other, but vpon especiall Command. The Lords returning to Windsore where the Court then was, the next day brought the

King's Letters, whose Mandate the Cardinall forth∣with obeied. In this Dignitie the six and twentieth* 1.13 of October Sir THOMAS MORE succeeded, whose admirably generall learning is so well knowne to the world, that I shall not need to speake any thing of it.

* 1.14 WOLSEY being removed from the Chancellor∣ship is presently after accused of Treason, and that (which hath beene seldome seene) in the Parliament, that so without hearing hee might be condemned by Act. But hee perceiving the drift of his Adversaries, procured one of his attendants THOMAS CROM∣WELL (hee who afterward became so potent) to bee elected a Burgesse of the Lower House. The Cardi∣nall being daily informed by him what things were laid to his charge, did by letter instruct him what to answer. CROMWELL although no Scholler, was very wise and eloquent. Which good parts hee so faithfully imployed in the defence of his Lord, that the House acquitted him, and himselfe became fa∣mous; opening withall by these meanes a way to those Honours, to which the current of a few yeares aduanced him▪ Even they who hated WOLSEY, ho∣noured CROMWELL, whose wisdome, industrie, but above all, fidelitie in defending his deiected Lord, was admirable.

Now the Cardinall because he would not be found a Traitor, is falne into a Praemunire. Wherevpon he is thrust as it were naked forth his owne house, his great wealth is seised on by the King's Officers, and hee faine to borrow furniture for his house, and money for his necessary expences. Iudges are sent into the house whereto he was confined, to take his answer to the obiected crime, which was, that without leave from the King hee had dared so many yeares to exer∣cise his power Legatine. To which calumny (for

can any man beleive it to be other?) Hee made this answer.

* 1.15 J am now sixty yeares old, and have spent my dayes in his Maiesties service, neither shun∣ning paines, nor indeavouring any thing more, then (next my Creatour) to please Him. And is this that hainous offence, for which J am at this age deprived of my estate, and forced as it were to beg my bread from doore to doore? Jex∣pected some accusation of a higher straine, as treason, or the like; not for that J know my selfe conscious of any such matter, but that his Ma∣iesties wisdome is such, as to know, it little be∣seemes the constancy & magnanimity of a King for a slight fault to condemne, and that without hearing, an ancient servant, for so many yeares next his Person, greatest in his favour, and to inflict a punishment on him more horrid then death. What man is he, who is so base minded, that hee had not rather a thousand times perish, then see a thousand men (so many my Family numbreth) of whose faithfull service hee hath bad long triall, for the most part to perish before his eyes? But finding nothing else obiected, J conceive great hope, that J shall as easily breake this machination of combined envy, as was that late one against me in the Parliament concer∣ning Treason. It is well knowne to his Maiesty

(of whose iustice J am confident) that I would not presume to execute my power Legatine, be∣fore he had beene pleased to ratifie it by his Roy∣all Assent given vnder his Seale; which not∣withstanding I cannot now produce, that and all my goods (as you well know) being taken from me. Neither indeed if I could, would J pro∣duce it. For to what end should I contend with the King? Go therefore, and tell his Maiesty, that I acknowledge all that J have (but alasse what speake J of what I have, Who indeed have nothing left me?) or whatsoever I had, to be de∣rived from his Royall Bounty, and do thinke it good reason, that he should revoke his gifts, if he thinke me vnworthy of them. Why then do I not remit my cause to his Maiesties arbitrement, at his pleasure to be either condemned or absol∣ved? To him then if you will have me acknow∣ledge my fault, behold, I will make short worke for you, I confesse it. The King knowes my in∣nocencie, so that neither my owne confession, nor the calumnies of my adversaries can deceiue him. I am therefore content to confesse my selfe guilty. His Maiesty from the fountaine of his naturall Clemency doth often derive the stremes of his mercy to the delinquent: And I know, though I should not desire it, Hee will reguard my innocence.

Vpon his confession the penalty of the Law was forthwith inflicted, only he was not, as the Law re∣quires, committed to perpetuall imprisonment. The furniture of his house of infinite value, incredible store of plate & great treasure had bin already seised to the King's vse. There remained nothing but the Lands wherewith he intended to indow his Colledge, the greatest part whereof were his owne purchase, the rest were the demesnes of the demolished Monasteries. These Lands amounted to above foure thousand pounds per annum, and were all confiscated, But God would not suffer so brave a work to perish. The King afterward bestowed on the Colledge in Oxford called* 1.16 Christ Church, revenues for the maintenance of a Deane, eight Prebendaries, a hundred Students, twelue Chaplaines and Singing men, and foure and twenty Almes men, for which this Colledge acknowledgeth HENRY the Eighth for its Founder. But the King arrogated to himselfe what was truly to be ascribed to the Gardinall. Who was now in the case of the poore Mouse, whom the Cat intends to devoure. The King had marked him out for destruction, yet permitted him to live, but so, as that he could never escape, and yet never despaire of escaping Scarce any day through∣out those few moneths passed, wherein hee indured not something or other, that would have animated a senselesse thing with anger▪ neither was the Cardinall composed of patience, yet did he never despaire. His sorrowes were alwayes tempred with some mixture of ioy. For he was often visited from the King, but that very secretly, and commonly by night: often cer∣tified of the King's affection towards him, in token whereof the Visitants did sometimes from the King present him with a Iewell or some such thing, willing him to be of good comfort, for that shortly, they would assure him, he should be raised to his former

degree of favo••r and power. Adversity at length pre∣vailing, hee fell into a disease, from the extremi••ie* 1.17 whereof few expected his recouery. And the King demanding of one of his Physicians (whose patient the Cardinall was) what disease WOLSEY had, the Doctor replied, What disease soever he hath, if You desire his death, You may be secure, for I promise You he will not live to se•• the end of three dayes more. The King striking the table with his hand cried out, I had rather loose twenty thousand pounds then he should die: Make hast there∣fore you, and as many other Physicians as are about the Court, and by all meanes indeavour his recovery. The Phy∣sician then certifying him, that he was sicke, more in minde, then body: the King dispatched away a Gen∣tleman with a Ring, which WOLSEY had formerly given to him▪ willing him withall to tell the Cardinall▪ that the King's anger was now past, who was sorry that he had so long given eare to detraction: and that he should shortly finde, that the King's affection to∣wards him was no lesse, then when hee flourished most in the sunshine of his favour. The same comfor∣table words being againe and againe ingeminated by divers others sent for that purpose, the Cardinall in a few dayes recovered his former health.

At Court each one aspired to rise by WOLSEY his fall. But now iealous least the King intended a reall and sincere reconciliation, and fearing revenge from him whom they had iniured, worke all their wits to supplant him. At, or about London he was too neere the Court, some tricke must be had to send him farther▪ Winthester (the Bishopricke whereof hee held in (ommendam) was not farre enough off. Why then should he not (said they) being not deteined at Lon∣don as Lord Chancellour, betake himselfe to the go∣vernement* 1.18 of his Archbishop••icke of Yorke? So ha∣ving a thousand pound assigned him by the King

(whose Counsaile thought a thousand markes suffici∣ent) about the end of March in the ensuing yeare hee set forward towards Yorke. Of all his Livings they leave him only the Archbishopricke of Yorke where∣with to maintaine him, the revenues whereof might be valued at foure thousand pounds per annum. The speech of SENECA concerning APICIVS why may I not apply to the present estate of WOLSEY? How great was his Luxurie, who deemed the income of foure thousand pound povertie?

And now it were requisite that we should proceed to the yeare 1530. But let vs first behold the end of this great Cardinall. That Summer hee spent at Ca∣wood a Mannor house belonging to the Sea of Yorke, where by his mildnesse, iustice, and liberality, hee did so win the hearts of his Diocesans, that hee was both admired and loved. He seemed to be much delighted with this solitary confinement, for that having hither∣to beene tossed in the Court to and fro as in a tem∣pest, hee had now escaped, not from shipwracke to a rocke, but to his desired haven of repose. Yet not∣withstanding vpon any the least hope of recovering his former power (although hee professed that con∣verted by an Anchorite of Richmond he had bid adieu to the vanities of the world) hee could not conceale the greatnesse of his ioy. That he failed of his hopes (which indeed were none of the least) I cannot assent to them, who impute it to the importunity of his po∣tent adversaries. For to what end served so many mes∣sages full of gracious & reconciliatorie promises, but ever intermixed with insufferable disgraces the fore∣runners of a dire Catastrophe? Certainly to no other, then that he might bee wrought one way or other to approue of, and give sentence for the King's Divorce (at least) as Archbishop CRANMER after did.

But this course not prevailing, they intend a second

accusation of Treason. To this purpose the Earle of Northumber land is sent to apprehend, and (as he was amazed at this sudaine change) bring him to his an∣swer* 1.19 to London. But by the way he fell sick of a disease, which at Leicester Abbey secured him from all other. Being neere his end, it is reported Sir WILLIAM KINGSTON (who lately came thither with some of the King's Guard) exhorted him to be of good comfort, for that the King (in whose name he saluted him) had sent for him to no other end, but that hee might cleere himselfe from those things, which ma∣lice and detraction had forged against him: neither did hee doubt, but that shortly hee should see him more potent then ever, if out of pusillanimity he gave not too much scope to the violence of his disconten∣ted passions. Whereto the Cardinall in these his last words replied:

* 1.20I am as truly glad to heare of his Maiesties health, as I truly know my death to be at hand J have now bin eight dayes together troubled with a Flux accompanied with a continuall Fever, which kind of disease, if within eight dayes it remit nothing of its wonted violence, by the con∣sent of all Physicians threatneth no lesse then death, peradventure an evill beyond death, di∣straction. But growne weake, and my diseas•• ra∣ging more and more, I do each minute expect, when God will be pleased to free this sinfull soule from this loathsome prison of the body. But should my life be a litle prolonged, do you thinke J perceive not what traps are laid for me▪ You Sir VVilliam (if J mistake not) are Lieute∣nant

of the Tower, and J guesse for what you come. But God hath iustly rewarded mee for neglecting my due service to him, and wholy ap∣plying my selfe to his Maiesties pleasure. Woe is me wretch and sot that I am, who have beene vngratefull to the King of Kings, whom if I had served with that due devout observance that befits a Christian, hee would not have forsaken me in the evening of my age. I would I might be a generall example (even to the King himselfe) how sliperily they stand in this world, who do not above all things rely vpon the firme support of Gods Favour and Providence. Salute his Ma∣iestie from me, and deliver this my last petition vnto him, which is, That he live mindfull of the triall he must vndergo before Gods high Tribu∣nall: so shall hee by the secret testimony of his owne conscience free mee from those crimes wherewith my adversaries seeke to burthen me.

More he would have spoken but his speech failed* 1.21 him, and death presently ensued. His body apparrelled* 1.22 in his Pontificall Robes, after it had all that day (for he expired at the very breake of day) beene exposed to open view, was at midnight without any solemnity buried in our Ladies Chappell in the Church of the Monastery. Thus vnhappily ended Cardinall WOL∣SEY,* 1.23 his long happy life; then whom England, no nor I beleeve all Europe, if you except the Bishops of Rome, ever saw a more potent Prelate. His retinue consisted of neere about a thousand persons, among which were one Earle, commonly nine Barons, many

Knights and Gentlmen, and of Officers belonging to his house above foure hundred, besides their servants, which far exceeded the former number▪ His Chappell was served by a Deane, a Subdeane, a Chanter, thirty fiue Singers, whereof thirteene were Clergy, twelve Lay, and ten Choristers, foure Sextons, beside sixteene Chaplaines (the most sufficient for their learning tho∣roughout all England) two Crosse-bearers, & as many Piller-bearers. But nothing doth manifest his wealth and greatnesse so much as do his stately and incom∣parable buildings. Wee have already spoken of his* 1.24 Colledges Whitehall (then called Yorke house, as be∣longing to the Archbishop) the place where our Kings do most reside, was almost wholy built by him. Hampton Court, the nearest pile of all the King's houses, he raised entirely from the ground▪ and having furnished it with most rich housholdstuffe, gave it to the King. It was a guift fitter for a King to take, then for a subiect to give. But in the opinion of the vulgar the monument which hee intended for the King far surpassed all these. It was of solid brasse, but vnfinished, and is to be seene in HENRY the Eight his Chappell in the Church of Windsore. That three of his Children raig∣ning after him, none of them vndertooke by perfect∣ing it to cover the (as it were) vnburied bones of their Father, what may wee thinke, but that the excessive charge of it deterred them? But vpon a further in∣inquiry we may more iustly ascribe it to the especiall iudgement of the Divine Providence, who had de∣creed, that he who had so horribly spoiled the Church, should alone be debarred the honor afforded to each of his Predecessours in the Church. And thus much concerning WOLSEY, who died the thirtieth of November 1530.

* 1.25 In the meane time in Iune, Anno 1529. after long debating the matter to and fro, by the mediation of

Louyse the French Kings Mother, and MARGARET Aunt to the Emperour, these two Princes are drawne to an accord, & a Peace is concluded betweene them at Cambray, thence commonly called The Peace of Cambray, but by vs The Peace of Women. The chiefe Conditions whereof, and that any way concerned vs were,

That the French King should giue to the Emperour for the freedome of his Children (who had beene three yeares Hostages in Spaine for their Father) two Millions of Crownes, whereof he should pay foure hundred thousand (due from the Emperor by the League made, Anno 1522.) to Henry and his Sister Mary Dowager of France. Beside which huge summe he should also acquit the Emperor of fiue hundred thousand, which he did owe to our King for the indemnity of the marriage betweene the Emperour and the Lady Mary the Kings Daughter, whom (having beene long since contracted) hee left, to marry with the Daughter of Portugall: And that hee should vngage and restore to the Emperour the Flower de Lys of gold enriched with precious stones, & a piece of our Saviours Crosse, which Philip, tru∣ly called, The Good Duke of Burgoigne the Emperours Father being driven into England by contrary windes, had ingaged to Henry the Seventh for fifty thousand Crownes.

So that the summe to be paid to HENRY amoun∣ted

to nine hundred and fifty thousand Crownes, be∣sides sixteene hundred thousand more to be payed to the Emperour at the very instant of the delivery of the French King's Children. The totall summe was two millions fiue hundred fifty thousand Crownes, which of our money make seven hundred sixty five thousand pounds.

FRANCIS not knowing which way sudainly to raise so huge a masle, by his Embassadours intreated our King to be pleased to stay some time for his mo∣neyes. But HENRY was much moved, that he had not beene made acquainted with this Treaty: not∣withstanding his secret designes made him temper his choler, nay, and with incredible liberality to grant more then was demanded. For hee absolutely forgave him the five hundred thousand Crownes due for the not marrying his Daughter, hee gave the Flower de Lys to his Godsonne HENRY Duke of Or∣leans, and left the other foure hundred thousand to be payed by equall portions in five yeares. The Pope had lately by his Legates deluded HENRY, who was there∣vpon much discontented not knowing what course to run. And this is thought to be the cause of his so extraordinary liberality toward the French.

* 1.26 The King being then in progresse and hunting at Waltham it happened that STEPHEN GARDINER Principall Secretary of Estate (after Bishop of Winton) and FOX the King's Almoner (after Bishop of Here∣ford) were billeted in the house of a gentleman named CRESSEY, who had sent his two sons to be brought vp at Cambridge, vnder the tutelage of THOMAS CRANMER Doctour in Divinity, a man both very learned and vertuous. The plague then spreading it selfe in Cambridge, CRANMER with his two Pupils betooke himselfe to Master CRESSEY their father his house. Where GARDINER and FOX among o∣ther

table talke discoursing of the Kings Suite concer∣ning his Divorce, which had so many yeares depen∣ded in the Court of Rome vndecided, CRANMER said, that he wondred the King required not the opi∣nions of the most famous learned men that were any where to be found (of whom the world had many far more learned then the Pope) and followed not their iudgements. What CRANMER had as it were let fall by chance they report to the King, who su∣dainly apprehending it, said that this fellow whosoe∣ver he was, had hit the naile on the head, and withall demanding his name, caused CRANMER to be sent for, whom he commended for his (but too late) ad∣vise, which course if he had taken but five yeares be∣fore, hee should now have had an hundred thousand pounds in his purse, which he had vnprofitably in this suite cast away on the Court of Rome: he commands CRANMER to write a Tract concerning this questi∣on wherein having drawne together what reasons hee could for the confirmation of his advice, hee should conclude with his owne opinion. CRANMER did it very readily, and is therevpon with Sir THOMAS BO∣LEN (lately created Earle of Wiltshire) CARNE, STOKESLEY, and BE NET, Doctours of Law, with others sent on an Embassie to Rome. CRANMER'S booke is to be presented to his Holinesse, and they are commanded to challenge the Court of Rome to a dis∣putation wherin the Contents of that book should be maintained; the argument whereof was, That by the authority of holy Scripture, ancient Fathers, and Councels, it was vtterly vnlawfull for any man to marry his Brothers Widow, and that no such marriage could bee licenced or au∣thorized, by the Popes Dispensation. This being done, the King's intent was, they should procure the opini∣ons of all the Vniversities throughout Europe, by whom if he found his former marriage condemned,

then without farther expecting the approbation of the Sea of Rome, he was resolved to run the hazard of a second. To this the amity of the French seeming ve∣ry conducible, the King had by his former liberality sought to oblige him. The Embassadours came to Rome▪ had audience, were promised a publique dispu∣tation, whereof they were held so long in expectation, that perceiving their stay there to bee to little pur∣pose, they all returned into England, except CRAN∣MER, who with the same instructions that hee had formerly beene sent to the Pope, was to go to the Em∣perour, whose Court was then in Germany. There this good & learned man, hitherto no friend to LVTHER, while he defends his owne booke and the King's Di∣vorce against the most learned either of Protestants or Papists, is thought to have beene seasoned with the leaven of that doctrine, for which after he had beene twenty yeares Archbishop of Canterbury, he was most cruelly burned.

While CRANMER thus laboured abroad, the King at home deales with LANGEY the French Em∣bassadour, by whose meanes (with the forcible Rhe∣toricke (saith one) of some English Angels) hee obtai∣ned of the Vniversities of Paris with the rest through∣out France, Pavia, Padua, Bononia, and others, this Conclusion, That the Pope (who hath no power over the Positive Law of God) could not by his Dispensation ratifie a marriage contracted betweene a Brother and a brothers Wi∣dow, it being forbidden by the expresse words of Scripture.

The eight of December the King graced three noble and worthy men with new titles of honour. THOMAS* 1.27 BOLEN Viscount Rochfort the King's future Father in law, was created Earle of Wiltshire, ROBERT RATCLIF Viscount Fitz-Walter, of the noble Family of the FITZ-WALTERS, Earle of Sussex; in which honour his sonne THOMAS, his nephevves

THOMAS first, then HENRY brother to THO∣MAS, and now ROBERT the sonne of HENRY have succeeded him: And GEORGE Lord Hastings was made Earle of Huntingdon, who left it to his son FRANCIS Father of HENRY, who deceased without issue, and GEORGE Grandfather to HEN∣RY the now Earle by FRANCIS, who died before his Father.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The suite of the Kings Divorce.
• * 1.2

  The Queens speech to the King before the Legates.
• * 1.3

  The Queene depart. th.
• * 1.4

  Reasons for the Divorre.
• * 1.5

  Reasons a∣gainst the Divorce.
• * 1.6

  The Popes inconstancy.
• * 1.7

  Wolsey fals.
• * 1.8

  The Legates repaire to the Queene.
• * 1.9

  Their confe∣rence with her.
• * 1.10

  Her answer.
• * 1.11

  Cardinall Campegius his Oration.
• * 1.12

  Wolsey dis∣charged of the great Seale.
• * 1.13

  Si•• Thomas Moore Lord C••ancell our▪
• * 1.14

  Th•• C••rdi∣nall accused of tre••son.
• * 1.15

  Wolseyes speech to the Iudges.
• * 1.16

  Christ Church in Oxford.
• * 1.17

  Wols••y falls sick••.
• * 1.18

  Wols••y is confined to Yorke.
• * 1.19

  The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••s appre∣hended.
• * 1.20

  His l••st words.
• * 1.21

  He dieth.
• * 1.22

  And is bu∣ried.
• * 1.23

  His great∣nesse.
• * 1.24

  His buil∣dings.
• * 1.25

  The peace of Cambray.
• * 1.26

  The first oc∣casion of Cranmers rising.
• * 1.27

  Creation of Earles.