CHAPTER VII

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INTERNAL POLICY

From the close of the year 1532 until his fall, the entire domestic administration of England was in Cromwell’s hands. From the moment that he entered the King’s service he had definitely committed himself to the policy which he was to follow till the end of his days. His own theories of internal government, the traditions of the Tudor monarchy, and the situation of the realm at the time of his accession to power, combined to convince him that the maintenance of an all-powerful kingship was indispensable to England’s safety; the nature of the proposal by which he first won Henry’s confidence was tantamount to an irrevocable declaration of that principle, and a promise that it should be the guiding thought of his entire administration. The revolt from Rome was an incident rather than an aim of his policy. He had suggested it at first as offering the only possible solution of the immediate difficulties of the Crown, and as affording golden opportunities for the increase of the power of the monarchy; but as soon as the decisive step had been taken, he saw that the security of his own position had become conditional upon the permanence of the new ecclesiastical system, which in turn could only be ensured if the King, for whose sake it had been created, was rendered supreme in Church and State. Cromwell’s very existence had thus become dependent on the success of his endeavours to maintain and carry further the policy initiated by Henry VII., and to elevate the Crown to sovereign power above every other institution in the realm. Perhaps no minister has ever had more varied problems to confront him, than those which Cromwell had to deal with during these eight years; and yet his action in every case is a logical, intelligent application of the theory of internal government, which he believed was the only sure road to national greatness. With this great principle firmly borne in mind, the history of Cromwell’s domestic administration becomes comparatively simple.

A further assertion of the Supremacy of the Crown in ecclesiastical affairs was necessary, before Cromwell could attempt to strengthen its already predominant position in the State. The chief object of the more important measures of the years 1533 and 1534 was to utilize the consequences of the breach with Rome for the benefit of the monarchy, and to provide that none of the power of which the Pope had been deprived should be permitted to escape the King. During the year 1532 Henry had deluded himself with hopes that his first attack on the liberties of the English clergy might frighten Clement into acquiescence in the divorce, but at last his patience came to an end, and he surrendered himself entirely to the guidance of Cromwell, who had been persuaded from the first that nothing further was to be obtained from the Pope. In January, 1533, the King was secretly married to Anne Boleyn; on the 10th of May Cranmer, who had lately been raised to the see of Canterbury, opened his archiepiscopal court at Dunstable[222]. With a promptitude which must have been highly satisfactory to Henry after the delays of the previous proceedings at Rome, the sentence of divorce was pronounced. There can be little doubt that Cromwell gave efficient aid in hastening the verdict[223]; but what is far more important, he took effective measures, even before it was rendered, to prevent its revocation. Parliament had been in session during the three months previous to the assembling of the court at Dunstable: in anticipation of the coming sentence, it had been induced to pass an Act[224] to deprive Katherine of the only hope that remained to her by forbidding appeals to Rome, and by ordaining that the decision of an archiepiscopal court should be final, except in cases where the King was concerned, when appeal might be made to the Upper House of Convocation. A notable effort was made to conceal the obvious and immediate purpose of this statute under a shroud of pious and patriotic verbiage. The life of the Act, however, was but short. Though it had dealt the death blow to the jurisdiction of the Pope in England, it had not made adequate provision for the maintenance of the Supremacy of the Crown; so in 1534 the statute of the previous year was superseded by a new one[225], which enacted that an appeal might always be made from an archbishop’s court to the King’s Court of Chancery, the decision of which was to be final. The abolition of the Annates (which will be considered in another place) occurred at the same time. The effect of these two measures was to complete the work begun in 1530, and to sever the last links of the chain which bound the Church of England to Rome.

In the meantime the famous Act of Succession[226], bastardizing the Princess Mary and establishing the offspring of Anne Boleyn as lawful heirs to the throne of England, had also been passed in Parliament, and before the year had closed a new statute[227] had formally recognized the King’s ecclesiastical supremacy for the third time; for Henry was not satisfied with the acknowledgements he had wrung from the clergy in 1531 and 1532, nor with the express assertion that the King was on earth Supreme Head of the Church of England, contained in the oath to the new succession, which Cromwell’s commissioners began to administer throughout the realm in the summer of 1534. The last vestige of the independence of the English bishops was also removed in the course of this memorable year, by certain provisions of the final Act for the restraint of Annates[228]. It had not been necessary, however, to introduce any very radical innovation here. The bishops were already virtually in the King’s hands, for the elections by chapters had long been a mere farce, and the royal nominee had been almost invariably chosen. So the Act had aimed at a legalization of the status quo—merely adding a few new provisions to strengthen the King’s hold on the Church. All relations with the Pope were of course to cease; the bishops were to be consecrated by virtue of a royal commission; and if the chapter failed to elect within twelve days, the King was empowered to fill the vacancy by letters patent. But even this does not seem to have been enough to satisfy Cromwell. A letter of Chapuys in the early part of 1535 informs us that the King’s Secretary called some of the bishops before the Council to ask them if the King could not make and unmake them at pleasure: ‘they were obliged to say yes, else they should have been deprived of their dignities: as the said Cromwell told a person, who reported it to me, and said that the Council had been summoned only to entrap the bishops[229].’ Cromwell followed this up, later in the year, by causing a Prohibitory Letter to be sent out in the King’s name, forbidding the bishops to visit any monastery or to exercise any right of jurisdiction during the visitation of the religious houses then in progress[230]. It appears that even Cromwell, with all his audacity, was at a loss to devise a means to silence the objections which were raised against this high-handed measure. He was not ashamed to take a hint from the fertile brains of his two blood-hounds, Legh and Ap-Rice, who suggested an ingenious argument to crush all opposition, the gist of which is contained in the following quotation from a letter which they wrote to Cromwell, Sept. 24, 1535[231]:—

‘Yf they (the bishops) had any Jurisdiction, they muste nedes haue receued it either by the lawe of god or by the busshop of Romes Authoritie or els by the Kinges grace permission. Which is no sufficient discharge ageinst the statute.

‘Yf they saye by the Lawe of god, Lett theym bring foorth scriptur but I thinke theym not so impudent as to saye so.

‘Yf they saye by the busshop of Romes Authoritie. Lett theym exercise it still, yf they thinke it mete.

‘Yf they saye by the Kinges permission why be they more discontent that the king shuld call agein nowe to his handes that which came from hym to theym, than they wolde haue bene yf he had never graunted it theym. And surely they are not able to iustifie thexercise of their iurisdiction hetherto.’ Fortified by such reasoning as this did the Royal Supremacy pass into effect.

Having thus obtained the complete submission of the greater lights of the Church, Cromwell consistently pursued his relentless policy with the humbler orders of friars and monks. His method of dealing with the latter did not differ materially from his policy with the former, except that it was perhaps more sanguinary. Priors Lawrence and Webster, two Carthusians who denied the validity of the King’s new title, were examined by Cromwell, and when they stubbornly refused to retract their assertions, they were promptly sentenced and executed[232]. Three others, Houghton, Hale, and Reynolds, suffered death a little later, and the latter dared to tell Cromwell that in spite of the terror he had caused by his late proceedings, all good men in the kingdom really held the same opinion, that the Headship of the Church was not the King’s[233]. But notwithstanding the wide popular dissatisfaction at the new measures, most malcontents, both lay and spiritual, kept their thoughts to themselves. Men were beginning to discover how dangerous it was to criticize the doings of the King and his minister. The elaborate system of espionage and the commissions to seek out and punish treason, which Cromwell had so laboriously established all over the country in 1532, had now begun to bear fruit. It was impossible to tell who the government spies were: impossible to know when or against whom the next accusation would be made. The words which men spoke in the bosom of their families or to their most intimate friends and neighbours were as likely to be laid to their charge as their utterances in public: harmless, obscure and ignorant country folk were brought before the magistrates as often as those of higher degree. Edmond Brocke, husbandman, eighty years of age, of Crowle in Worcestershire, was walking home in the rain from Worcester market on the Saturday before St. Thomas’ Day, in company with Margaret Higons. ‘Yt ys long of the Kyng that this wedre is so troblous or vnstable,’ he said, ‘and I wene we shall nevir haue better wedre whillis the Kinge Reigneth, and therefore it makith no matter if he were knocked or patted on the heed[234].’ These facts were declared on August 12, 1535, before John Russell Esq., Justice of the Peace, by Richard Fulke, husbandman, and Joan Danyell of Crowle. Brocke confessed that he had said ‘that it was a hevy and grevous wether and that there was neuyr good wedringes sithins the King began this busines,’ but what he meant by ‘busines’ he could not tell: as to the rest of his words, he said, he was mad or drunk if he spoke them—more than this he would not answer. William Ferrall, of Eastbourne in Sussex, deposed before Sir John Gage on August 14, 1536, that Sir William Hoo, vicar of Eastbourne, and suffragan of the diocese of Chichester, walking with him in the churchyard, said that ‘they that rule about the King make him great bankettes and geve him swete wynes and make him dronke,’ and that then ‘they bring him byllis and he puttyth his sign to them whereby they doo what they will and no man may Correcte them[235].’ Margaret Chanseler, of Senklers Bradfeld in Suffolk, spinster, was forced to confess before Sir Robert Drury in February, 1535, that, when drunk and under the influence of an evil spirit, she had said, in presence of Edmond Tyllet and Anthony Harward, ‘that the quenes grace had one child by our souereigne lorde the Kynge, which the seid child was ded borne, & she prayed god that she myght neuer haue other; also that the quenes grace was a noughtty hoore & that the Kynges grace ought not to mary within his realme.’ Tyllet and Harward, when summoned, made the matter somewhat worse. They declared that the spinster had called the Queen ‘a goggyll yed hoore,’ and that she had added ‘God save queen Katteryn for she was ryghtuous queen, & that she trusted to see her queen Ageyn & that she should warrant the same[236].’ All the magistrates before whom these depositions were laid, received ample instructions from Cromwell how to deal with every case; if the accusation was very heavy, the offender was usually sent up to the minister himself, to answer for his misdeeds at head quarters. The punishments in these cases were very severe: there are almost no records of the penalties inflicted on those against whom the depositions were brought, but there is reason to believe that comparatively slight misdemeanours were not seldom rewarded with death.

But of all the devices ‘For the putting the Kynges subiectes and other in more terroure,’ as Cromwell once expressed it[237], the most ruthless remains to be mentioned. The execution of the Carthusians had had its effect, but Cromwell was persuaded that more blood would have to be spilled before his victory could be considered complete. As was usual with him, he laid the axe at the root of the tree, and chose as his victims the noblest and foremost in the land. The opinions of Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More were well known to be opposed to the Royal Supremacy, and as such they carried enormous weight. Cromwell must have seen that it would be impossible to establish the King in his new position with any security, until these two men were either converted or destroyed. So, never once swerving from his purpose, nor letting the rank and position of these distinguished men change or deter him, he set about the business of ‘making or marring,’ with his usual directness and method. If he knew More and Fisher at all well, he must have been reasonably certain that he could never alter their convictions, so it became necessary for him to look for some adequate pretext for getting rid of them. Such a pretext soon presented itself.

In July, 1533, occurs the first mention of serious disturbance due to the visions and prophecies of Elizabeth Barton, better known as the Nun of Kent[238]. Her reputation for holiness and for divine inspiration was so high throughout the land, that her mad follies were everywhere regarded with almost superstitious reverence. Cromwell, at the King’s command, caused her to be examined by Cranmer, but apparently did not succeed in eliciting the information he desired, for the investigation was continued by other interrogators who were less leniently disposed than the Archbishop[239]. The Nun was finally obliged to confess that ‘she never Hadd Vision in all her Lyff, but all that ever she said was fayned of her owne ymagynacion, only to satisfie the Myndeis of theym Whiche Resorted vnto her, and to obtayn worldly prayse[240].’ She and her accomplices were forced to read their public confessions on a scaffold erected at Paul’s Cross, while a sermon was preached in denunciation of the fraud. In the following spring she was condemned to death in Parliament, and in April she was executed with some of her accomplices at Tyburn[241].

But the destruction of the Nun was only of secondary importance for Cromwell’s plans; he was mainly looking for some mesh in which he could entrap others of whom he was in much more fear than Elizabeth Barton. Every effort appears to have been made to elicit from her a confession of communication with the divorced Queen, but without success. More and Fisher, however, were not destined to escape so easily. Because the Bishop of Rochester, after several interviews with the unhappy woman, had not reported to Henry her disloyal prophecies (which the Nun had already made in presence of the King himself), it was taken as a sign of treason and neglect of duty to the sovereign. The long letter which Cromwell wrote to Fisher in February, 1534, gives a detailed account of the numerous and unfounded charges against him[242]. This letter impresses the reader as having been written pro forma only. Cromwell must have realized that he could never hope to overcome two men who were so much his intellectual superiors as More and Fisher, in an argument. He therefore carefully avoided having any conversation with them, and wrote to them only in order to have some slight outward justification for his arbitrary action. Fisher sent pathetic letters to the King and the Lords, when Cromwell refused to accept his excuses or listen to his arguments, but in vain. His name was included in the Act of attainder of Elizabeth Barton and her accomplices which was passed in March, 1534, but his life was spared until the King could find a more valid pretext for actually destroying him[243].

The accusations in the case of Sir Thomas More were even more groundless than in Fisher’s. The only charges that could be proved against him were an unimportant interview with the Nun herself, a letter which he confessed to have written to her, warning her to leave political subjects entirely alone, and an insignificant conversation about her with a certain father Resbye, Friar Observant of Canterbury[244]. So much was made of these slight accusations, however, that More was forced to write a long letter of excuse to Cromwell. His explanations about the Nun and about his attitude on the Papal Supremacy appear to have been satisfactory; when he was examined by Cromwell and Audeley, all the inventiveness of his accusers seemed to be used to no purpose. ‘As the King did not find,’ says Chapuys, ‘as it seems he hoped, an occasion for doing him more harm, he has taken away his salary[245].’ But this unfortunately was not destined to be the end of the affair; if the King was not determined on the ex-Chancellor’s destruction, his Privy Councillor was; but Cromwell was forced to bide his time and wait for a better opportunity, so that further proceedings were stayed until the following April.

In the meantime the new Act of Succession had been passed in Parliament, and the oath of allegiance which it required was promptly tendered to More and Fisher, who finally consented to swear to the statute itself but not the preamble[246]. They were unwilling to give their reasons for rejecting the latter, but Cranmer cannot have been far wrong when he wrote to Cromwell that the cause of their refusal to accept it lay in its attacks on the authority of the Pope and the validity of the King’s first marriage[247]. The Archbishop, ever on the side of humanity, urged the King’s minister to accept the compromise which More and Fisher offered, but in vain. The ex-Chancellor and the aged bishop were committed to the Tower, which they never quitted again. For more than a year they remained there subjected to every sort of indignity, until on May 5, 1535, they were summoned by the King, and told that unless they swore to the Act of Succession and the Royal Supremacy, they would be treated no better than the Carthusian monks who had lately been executed[248]. They were allowed six weeks for reflection, but they replied that they would not change their opinion in six hundred years, if they lived so long. So strong was the popular feeling however, that it is doubtful if Henry would have dared to execute Fisher, simply because he said that ‘the King, our sovereign Lord, is not Supreme Head of the Church of England’; but when it was announced that the Pope, at a consistory held May 20, had created him a Cardinal, the King was so enraged that he threw all caution to the winds. He declared in his fury that ‘he would give Fisher another hat, and send his head to Rome for the Cardinal’s hat afterwards,’ and ordered both his prisoners to swear to his ecclesiastical headship before St. John’s Day, or suffer punishment as traitors[249]. Cromwell had endeavoured from the beginning to keep up the appearance of being reluctant to punish the aged bishop and his noble companion, and there is record that when he heard of the latter’s first refusal to abandon his beliefs, ‘he sware a great oath[250].’ But in spite of this there is every reason to think that he was the true cause of the ex-Chancellor’s death. It is not likely that Henry would have consented to the execution of a man whom he had formerly loved and respected as much as More, unless his counsellor had poisoned his heart against him. Moreover, the mentions of More and Fisher in Cromwell’s ‘remembrances’ are so frequent and of such a character, as to leave little doubt that he had determined to ruin them from the first. They both suffered death by beheading in the summer of 1535[251]. It was a terrible evidence of the ruthlessness of the forward policy to which Henry had now committed himself by the advice of his new minister. The most brilliant and cultivated Englishman of the time had been brought to the block to bear testimony to the King’s relentless anger; the gentleness and humility of the oldest prelate in the realm had not shielded him from Henry’s wrath and the swift, passionless blow of his all-powerful agent. Terror had mastered the country, and men wondered what the end would be[252].

But though Cromwell’s truculent measures had gained the day in England, they excited the anger and horror of continental Europe. Sentence of excommunication had been passed on Henry in the summer of 1534; public opinion would not have permitted the Pope longer to postpone the final blow, even if he had wished to do so. It now became more than ever necessary to defend the position of the King, and Cromwell was busily occupied in filling the pulpit at Paul’s Cross with preachers who were willing and able to expound the word of God to Henry’s profit and advantage[253]. In this he was greatly helped by Bishop Rowland Lee of Coventry and Lichfield, who later played such an important part in connexion with the subjugation of Wales. In seeking means to defend the Royal Supremacy Cromwell’s knowledge of the law stood him in good stead. In a letter written in the year 1538, Sir Thomas Denys tells how Cromwell three years earlier had advised him to ‘rede in a boke called Bratton[254] nott vnwrittyn this cccc yeres where he doth call the Kinges Grace Vicarius Christi, ... wherfor,’ he continues, ‘I do rekyn a papiste and a traitour to be one thing[255].’ But the most drastic of the measures which Cromwell adopted to strengthen the power of the Crown was the famous Act about Proclamations, which he was able to force the Lords and Commons to pass in 1539. By this statute, all Proclamations made by the King and Council were given the force of Acts passed in Parliament, save when they touched the subject’s lives, lands, goods, or liberties, or infringed the established laws; and these exceptions were expressly declared inapplicable to those who should disobey proclamations concerning heresy. Cromwell had planned for the passage of this statute from a period at least as early as 1535. A letter[256] which he wrote to Norfolk in July of that year affords us interesting information concerning the origin of the measure. In a controversy about the best means of preventing the export of coin from the realm, the Chief Justice had delivered the opinion that ‘For the avoyding of any suche daungers ... proclamacyons and polyces so deuysyd by the King & his cownsayll for any such purpose sholde be of as good effect as Any law made by parlyament or otherwyse[257].’ The Chief Justice probably came to this decision at a hint from Cromwell; in any case the latter saw that the good work which had been already begun could not be considered complete until the opinion expressed had been given legal form. From this time onward there occur in his ‘remembrances’ frequent mentions of an Act to be passed in Parliament to this effect, but the measure proposed was so radical, that with all his energy and unscrupulousness, it was four years before he was able to carry it through[258].

It is scarcely necessary to state that a legislative body which could be forced to consent to such a statute as this retained in practice but few traces of that independence of the Crown which it theoretically possessed. The passage of the Act about Proclamations marks the culmination of a process begun long before Cromwell came into power, but only perfected at the close of his ministry, by which the subserviency of Parliament to the royal will was secured. But though the system did not reach its highest development until 1539, the earlier years of Cromwell’s administration show such an advance over that of his predecessor in this particular, that we are justified in regarding the entire period of his ministry as the golden age of Tudor despotism. From the time that the Commons permitted the King and his counsellor to force on them the petition against the clergy in 1532, it is scarcely too much to say that the sole function of Parliament was to register the decrees which emanated from the royal council chamber.

Of course in order to render Parliament as ‘tractable’ as it was, it became necessary for Cromwell to regulate the choice of members for the King’s profit, and the success of his endeavours in this direction is little short of marvellous. Royal interference in elections was certainly not unknown before his time, but it had not attained the proportions which it was destined to assume under Cromwell, and it was often strongly resented by the people. It was only with ‘much difficulty,’ that Henry VII., in the year 1506, succeeded in forcing the citizens of London to abandon the right to elect their own sheriff, which had been granted them by the charter of Henry I.[259], and to accept the royal nominee to that office[260]. But thirty years later, the Crown had carried its encroachment on the popular liberties so far that it seemed to be usually regarded as a matter of course that a royal nomination should take the place of a fair election. If any protest was raised against Henry’s palpable infringement of ancient rights—and this was very rarely the case—the King and his minister affected to regard the complaint with a sort of indignant amazement. Let us examine the details of an election in Canterbury, which took place when Cromwell was at the height of his power. Writs had been issued for the choice of two members to Parliament from that city in early May, 1536. Between eight and nine in the morning of the eleventh of that month, the sheriff, John Hobbys, caused the commonalty of Canterbury to assemble in the accustomed place, where John Starky and Christopher Levyns were duly elected burgesses. After the voters had dispersed, about noon-time, John Alcok, the mayor of Canterbury, came to Sheriff Hobbys in great perplexity, with a letter from Cromwell and Audeley, which desired, on the King’s behalf, that Robert Derknall and John Bryges ‘shulde fulfill the seid romes.’ On the following morning the sheriff directed a humble letter to Cromwell[261], stating the facts, and begging that the election of Starky and Levyns might be allowed to stand, as the King’s wishes were not known until too late; ‘if your seid lettere had come to me byfore the seid eleccion,’ he pleaded, ‘I wolde haue done the best that had been in my powr to have Accomplished our Souereigne lord the Kinges pleasure and yours in the premysses.’ But the King’s minister gave no heed to the representations of John Hobbys: the fact that an election had already been held did not trouble him in the least: the King’s will was to be accomplished at all costs. On May 18 he addressed a significant letter to the Mayor and Burgesses of Canterbury, which was quite sufficient to induce the recipients to nullify their former proceedings. The phraseology of the letter is noteworthy: the King’s minister did not discuss the fact that his first message had arrived too late. He simply reminded the burgesses that the King’s pleasure had been signified to them, and that they ‘the same litle or nothynge regardynge but rather contemnyng’ had elected their own candidates, according to their ‘owne wylles and myndes contrarie to the kinges plesure and comandement in that behalfe.’ This of course was a thing whereat the King did ‘not a lytell marvell,’ and the burgesses were admonished ‘notwythstondynge the seyd eleccion’ to ‘procede to a new and electe thosse other, accordyng to the tenure of the former letteres’: they were also desired to notify Cromwell at once ‘if any persone wyll obstynatly gaynsay the same,’ so that the King’s minister might deal with the refractory burgess according to his master’s pleasure. Two days later Mayor Alcok replied with the following dutiful letter. ‘In humble Wise certefie you that the xxth Day of this present monyth of Maye at vi of the Clok in the mornyng I John Alcok mayre of Cauntebury receyved your lettere Dyrected to me the seid mayre Sheryf and Comynaltie of the seid Citie sygnyfying to vs therby the kynges plesure and commaundement is that Robert Darknall and John Bryges shoulde be burgesses of the Parlyament for thesame Citie of Cauntebury by Vertue wherof accordyng to our bounde Dutye immedyatly vppon the syght of your seid lettere and contentes thereof perceyved caused the Comynaltye of the seid Citie to Assemble in the Court Hall ther wher appered the nombre of Fower score and xvii persones Citizens and Inhabitauntes of theseid Citie And accordyng to the Kynges plesure and Commaundement frely with one voyce and without any contradiccon haue elected and chosen the fore-seid Robert Darkenall and John Bryges to be burgesses of the parlyament for thesame Citie which shalbe duly certefied by Indenture vnder the seales of the seid Citizens and Inhabytauntes by the grace of the blyssyd Trynyte Who preserue you ...[262].’ Such was the calm way in which parliamentary suffrage rights were made of no effect and the King’s pleasure enforced. It is important to notice in this connexion how careful Henry and Cromwell were to cloak their most unwarrantable proceedings by the preservation of ostensible constitutionalism. Never was the now farcical form of a fair election abandoned; never did the King fail outwardly to observe those legal restrictions by which the Crown was supposedly fettered, and the liberties of the nation theoretically preserved. The autocracy which Cromwell had done so much to establish was carried on ‘within and upon the already existing constitution,’ and the public protest was thus in great measure disarmed.

It is no wonder that the invaluable services which Cromwell rendered to the Crown were rewarded by an almost exclusive enjoyment of the royal confidence, which enabled him soon to do almost what he pleased with his two great rivals, Norfolk and Gardiner. At first he had cautiously held himself aloof from these men, but now that he had outstripped them in the King’s favour, his bearing towards them altered accordingly. It is a very significant fact that in his ten years of service, he never left the King for any considerable length of time, but often contrived to get Norfolk and Gardiner sent away—the one to cope with internal troubles, the other to act as ambassador to France. Cromwell succeeded in harassing them both while they were at Court, and in making them abandon every pretence to consistency. Chapuys, in a letter of December 9, 1533, tells us that Norfolk, hitherto the most pronounced of Catholics, uttered ‘a thousand blasphemies’ against the Pope, even more shocking than those of the King, calling him ‘an unhappy whoreson, a liar, and a wicked man; and that it should cost him (Norfolk) wife and children ... and all that he possessed, or that he would be revenged on him. He has a good deal changed his tune, for it was he ... who favoured most the authority of the Pope; but he must act in this way not to lose his remaining influence, which apparently does not extend much further than Cromwell wishes; for which reason, I understand, he is wonderfully sick of the Court[263].’ In the spring of 1535 the Duke was forced to surrender entirely, and retire to his estate at Kenninghall. Gardiner had to abandon the Secretaryship in 1534 in Cromwell’s favour. The new minister tantalized him in much the same way as he did Norfolk, and doubtless increased the enmity of the Bishop of Winchester, which he had first incurred at the time of Wolsey’s fall, and which five years later was to be such an important factor in effecting his own destruction.

Cromwell was perhaps the only man at the Court who, in the early days of his ministry, had the least suspicion that Anne Boleyn might sometime lose the royal favour. He was able to comprehend the King’s love for her better than anyone else, and to discern that when the royal passion had been satisfied, Henry’s affection for his second wife would be a thing of the past. The King’s chagrin that Anne had not brought him a male child, and the rage awakened by her subsequent miscarriage could not have escaped him. From thenceforth he must have become convinced that her ruin was ultimately certain, and he began to throw out hints that he no longer wished to be reckoned among her adherents. In April, 1536, it was notorious that there was a marked coolness between them, and a month later a very unexpected turn in foreign affairs brought matters to a head and forced him to take active measures against her, in order to save his own reputation with the King[264]. There is reason to think that he was the prime mover in the plot which led to her arrest. He certainly worked against her at her trial, and was present at her execution; in fact he took every possible step to forestall all chances of being included in her fall. His sudden abandonment of one whom a few years before he had done so much to support, should be enough to confute those who have seen in his previous devotion to the cause of Anne Boleyn an evidence that he favoured the Reformed faith. Anne was certainly a professed Protestant; she possessed the English Bible and read it; but it was only because her Protestantism was temporarily useful to Cromwell’s designs, which were to obtain for his master a divorce from Katherine, that he identified himself with her party during the first years of his ministry. When the divorce had been secured, and Henry had been declared Supreme Head of the Church of England; when the love which Anne had once enjoyed had been transferred to Jane Seymour, and Cromwell saw that to favour the cause of the unhappy Queen in opposition to the King might mean ruin and disgrace, he deserted her at once.

Nor can the fact that Cromwell’s name figures prominently in connexion with the publication of the Ten Articles of 1536 be justly urged as a reason for ascribing to him any real devotion to the cause of Protestantism. Now that the severance from Rome was complete, the King and his minister saw that a definition of the faith of the Church of England had become necessary, in order that the unity of the new ecclesiastical system might be preserved. The Ten Articles of 1536 were adopted to make good this deficiency. Circumstances had rendered them inevitable, and the fact that Cromwell presented them to Convocation, and signed them first of all the members proves nothing, except perhaps the importance of his ecclesiastical office. The Ten Articles declared the Bible and the three Creeds to be the only Rule of Faith: Penance, Baptism, and the Eucharist were kept as sacraments: the veneration of saints, soliciting of their intercession, use of images, and the usual ceremonies in the service, though still held to be highly profitable, and as such worthy to be retained, were pronounced in themselves powerless to justify the soul[265]. But though the main aim of these Articles was doubtless to preserve the integrity of the Church of England at home, the time and circumstances under which they were published seem to indicate that they were also intended to serve a purpose abroad. We shall hear of them in this connexion in another chapter.

Cromwell’s zeal for the publication of the Bible in English, and also his injunctions to the clergy[266], must in the same way be attributed to political rather than to religious motives. He saw what a powerful weapon the Bible had become in the hands of the German Reformers, and soon succeeded in forcing Convocation, on December 19, 1534, to present a petition to the King for the suppression of treasonable books in the vulgar tongue, and for a translation of the Scriptures into English[267]. Less than two years later Cromwell’s efforts were rewarded by the appearance of an edition of the Scriptures patched together ‘out of Douche[268] and Latyn’ by his friend Miles Coverdale. There seems to have been a very general impression current that all passages which might have been interpreted in favour of Katherine, had purposely been rendered in the opposite sense[269]. But this version was soon destined to be superseded. The following year witnessed the appearance of the edition which is usually known as Matthew’s Bible, and which consisted of a combination of the translations of Tyndale and Coverdale. It received the official sanction of Cromwell and Cranmer, but its life was almost as short as that of its predecessor. In the autumn of 1537 Grafton and Whitchurch, two London printers whose names had been connected with the previous editions, received a licence from the King to publish a new version of the Bible at Paris, where the facilities for carrying on their trade were better than in England[270]. At first the work seems to have progressed with great success, and in September, 1538, the King’s minister, in anticipation of its speedy completion, issued injunctions that a copy of it should be placed in every church at the cost of the parson and the parishioners, and that no one was to be discouraged from reading it: he advised, however, that ‘the explication of obscure places’ be referred ‘to men of higher iugement in scripture[271].’ But Cromwell was a little premature with his injunctions. An unforeseen event occurred, which made the immediate publication of the new edition impossible. The Royal Inquisition had apparently got wind of the doings of Grafton and Whitchurch at Paris, and just as the task was approaching completion, they and all their subordinates, and the French printer at whose house the work was being carried on, were suddenly cited to appear before the Inquisitor-General for the realm of France[272]. The Englishmen made haste to escape, without even waiting to collect the implements of their trade or the Bibles that had already been printed. Cromwell, on hearing of the disaster, went with a piteous tale to the French ambassador, telling him that he himself had contributed 600 marks towards the publication of the Bible in Paris, and begging him to ask his master to permit the work to be continued there, or at least to allow the copies already finished to be sent to England safely, and not to suffer the Inquisition to confiscate them. But Francis replied that good things might be printed in England as well as in France, but that bad things should never be permitted to be printed in Paris, and he further refused to deliver up the copies already completed. He was unable, however, to prevent the final accomplishment of the work in London in 1539[273]. The new version, commonly known as the Great Bible, was the last authorized translation completed in the reign of Henry VIII., but apparently great efforts had to be made to prevent the publication of unlicensed editions. It was not long before a royal commission was issued to Cromwell, commanding him, in order to avoid diversity of translations, to see that no man printed any English Bible during the next five years except persons deputed by himself[274].

Perhaps the strongest point of Cromwell’s domestic administration was his financial policy. He never forgot the promise he had made on entering the King’s service to make Henry ‘the richest king that ever was in England,’ for he was shrewd enough to see that a full treasury was the first essential to the attainment of the larger aim of his policy, the establishment of a royal despotism. He skilfully contrived that many of the measures of the earlier years of his ministry, primarily intended to cut the bonds which held England to Rome, should also serve to increase the wealth of the Crown. The most noteworthy and successful of these measures was the abolition of the Annates. There can be little doubt that it was through Cromwell’s agency that a supplication was addressed to the King early in the year 1532[275] urging him to arrest the payment of First Fruits to the Papacy: ‘bokes of annates’ and remembrances concerning them are to be found in large numbers among the minister’s letters and papers[276], and the petition by which the measure to abolish the First Fruits was initiated was a method especially characteristic of him, reminding us in many respects of the way in which the independence of the clergy had been attacked but a short time before. But the King was very cautious in granting the request, which had thus been laid before him. He had not yet given up all hope of a peaceful solution of his difficulty with the Pope, and was not yet prepared, as Cromwell was, openly to defy the Holy See. So at first he determined to try the effect of a threat. The immediate result of Cromwell’s efforts was the passage in Parliament of an Act[277] which abolished Annates, but preserved to the Holy See certain payments on bulls obtained for the election of bishops: the ratification of this statute by the Crown, however, was expressly withheld, and the Act consequently remained inoperative, while a post was sent to Rome ‘to frighten the Pope about the Annates[278].’ But this plan failed: Clement refused to be terrorized into submission; the King became convinced that a complete break was inevitable, and, in July, 1533, the Act was ratified and declared in force by letters patent[279]. The following year saw the passage of another statute, which abolished all the payments preserved by the exceptions to the Act of 1532[280], and a little later Parliament completed the work which Cromwell had forced it to undertake by annexing the Annates to the Crown[281]. Supplementary to these statutes was the Act concerning Peter’s Pence and Dispensations[282], by which the Pope was deprived of all contributions that had not already been arrested by the Acts about Annates. The use to which the rescued funds were put is aptly described by a significant ‘remembrance’ of Cromwell’s to the effect that ‘thenhabitauntes and peple of this realme shall pay yerely vnto the kyng for ever, in lieu or stede of smoke pence, whiche they were wont to pay to the busshop of rome, for euery hed or house a certayne small thyng for and towardes the defense of thys Realme, whiche may be ymployed in makyng of forteresses throughout the Realme[283].’ Another significant paragraph, from a letter of Chapuys to Charles V., of Dec. 19, 1534, reads as follows: ‘The King, besides the 30,000 pounds which he newly obtained from the clergy, and an ordinary fifteenth from the laity, which was granted him last year, and which may amount to 28,000 pounds, has just imposed a tax by authority of Parliament, of the twentieth penny of all the goods of his subjects, and that foreigners shall pay double, which will amount to a great sum. These are devices of Cromwell, who boasts that he will make his master more wealthy than all the other princes of Christendom: and he does not consider that by this means he alienates the hearts of the subjects, who are enraged and in despair, but they are so oppressed and cast down, that without foreign assistance it is no use their complaining, and it will not be Cromwell’s fault, if they are not oppressed further[284].’

The King’s minister also appears to have been much occupied with the coinage. He was constantly present at ‘assayes’ of gold and silver, and further took active steps to stamp out the counterfeiters, of whom there appear to have been a great number[285]. He caused a proclamation to be issued ‘for the false and clipped Coyne going in this Realme with a greate punyshment to euery person that is founde with any false or counterfeit moneye.’ The systematic debasement of the currency that disgraced the reign of Henry VIII. had begun under Wolsey, but appears to have ceased entirely during Cromwell’s ministry: it began again after Cromwell’s death, assuming far greater proportions than before, and continued till the end[286]. That the King did not need to resort to such costly methods of replenishing his treasury while Cromwell was in power, bears eloquent testimony to the wisdom and success of his minister’s finance. The latter’s efforts to prevent the ‘conveying of coyne out of the realme’ shows that he saw the importance of securing plenty of good coin for English trade, and that he did not want to create an artificial cheapness. The statutes of Henry VII. forbidding the export of precious metals had been renewed by his son in an Act passed in 1511, but this law had run out in 1523, and from that time onward there was no legal hindrance to the practice, though the statutes enacted previous to Tudor times were still considered in force[287]. The result was that the earlier laws began to be transgressed, and Cromwell, in devising methods to prevent further infringements of them, hit upon the expedient of a royal proclamation, as we have already had occasion to notice.

Another most important measure passed during Cromwell’s ministry, was the so-called Statute of Uses[288]. It was at the same time a legal and a financial reform. In order to evade the common law, which prohibited testamentary disposition of landed property and rendered it strictly subject to primogeniture, the custom had long been prevalent that the owner should name before or at his death certain persons to whose ‘use’ his lands should be held. These persons became to all intents and purposes the true devisees; for though the trustee, or ‘feoffee to uses,’ alone was recognized by the common law, the beneficiary or ‘cestui que use’ soon began to receive strong support through the equitable jurisdiction of the Chancellor, and so was often able actually to enforce claims which originally had rested merely on moral obligation. This was the usual method of circumventing the laws of the realm, in order to make provision by will for younger children. In this particular it was perhaps legitimate, but at the same time it opened the way to a great number of abuses, which are stated at length in the preamble to the statute just mentioned. The chief of these were the extraordinary complication of titles to land, which resulted from the secret methods of devising it, and the loss to the King and the great lords of the feudal dues on successions, wardships, and marriages. Two ineffectual attempts had been made to remedy these evils in the reigns of Richard III. and Henry VII.[289], and at Cromwell’s accession to power the subject was brought up again. There is reason to think that the Statute of Uses was under consideration as early as 1531, and the main principle of it bears a close resemblance to the measure devised in the reign of Richard III. A mention of it occurs in Cromwell’s ‘remembrances’ of the year 1535[290], but it was not finally passed until 1536, probably on account of the popular opposition, which, according to Chapuys, was very pronounced. The upshot of the statute was, that all right to the estate was taken from the grantee to uses and vested in the beneficiary, and the distinction between legal and beneficial ownership was thus entirely destroyed. The ostensible tenant was made in every case the legal tenant; those entitled to the use of land became the actual holders of it. The Act further was intended to abolish the right to create further uses in the future: the power of disposing of interests in land by will was thus removed, and the King was restored to the enjoyment of his ancient feudal dues.

Beyond the casual mention in his ‘remembrances[291]’ there is no precise record of Cromwell’s connexion with this important measure. It is worthy of note, however, that the attainments needed to plan and draft such a statute were precisely those which Cromwell possessed in the very highest degree—intimate knowledge of the law, and great shrewdness in finance. The bold and effective way in which the measure struck at the root of the evil, and caused the extra-legal practice which had grown up to become its own ruin, is very characteristic of him. Furthermore, Cromwell was certainly believed to be the originator of the measure by the rebels in the Pilgrimage of Grace, which was partially caused by it, and as such his death was demanded. It therefore seems highly probable that it was he who devised this scheme in order to deal the death blow to a very annoying practice of evading the law, and to enrich the royal treasury. The statute, however, was not entirely successful in attaining the ends at which it aimed, for by a strained interpretation of the letter of the Act, the courts managed to evade the spirit of it, so that it failed to do away with the old distinction between beneficial and legal ownership, which it had been intended to destroy. In addition to this, the popular outburst of indignation aroused by the Statute of Uses was so strong that a few months before Cromwell’s death he saw the actual right of at least partial testamentary disposition of landed property obtained by the people. The Act concerning the willing of land by testament[292], passed in the spring of 1540, gave to every tenant in fee simple the right to bequeath at his pleasure all lands which he held by socage tenure, and two-thirds of the lands which he held by knight-service. The force of usage was such that when the King and Cromwell attempted to abolish a practice, which had rendered the willing of land possible under another name, the actual right to bequeath landed property without circumventing the law was wrested from them.

The King was glad to entrust his capable adviser with the preservation of that advantageous commercial position which had been won for England through the masterful policy of Henry VII. Cromwell’s varied experience in foreign markets and his intimate knowledge of all the details of the wool-trade, which was by far the most important element of English commerce, had taught him in his earlier years many lessons of which the whole nation was to reap the benefit. In general his administration witnessed but few departures from the highly successful commercial policy inaugurated by the first Tudor. His aim was rather to strengthen the advantages already gained, and to increase the security of English commerce and industry against the competition of continental rivals, than to attempt any radical innovations. The monopoly of the trade in the Mediterranean which Venice had enjoyed in Lancastrian times, had been a serious menace to the interests of the English merchants; but the Italian wars had now almost totally deprived the Republic of that prominent political position which she had occupied at the beginning of the century, and with the loss of her national greatness her commercial supremacy fell. The ancient privileges which had been granted to Venetian merchants and galleys previous to Tudor times, had been exchanged for a set of stringent enactments, which dealt a heavy blow to her trade and shipping during the reign of Henry VII. Cromwell followed the same policy, and further seized the favourable opportunity afforded by Venice’s decline to foster the interests of English merchants in other parts of the Mediterranean[293]. With the towns of the Hanseatic League the case was slightly different. The extensive privileges the merchants of the North German cities had enjoyed in earlier times, had raised them to such a commanding position that the growth of English commerce in the north was rendered well-nigh impossible. Henry VII.’s aim had been to overthrow the supremacy of the Hanseatic League, by a gradual withdrawal of the concessions which it had wrung from his predecessors. The early part of his son’s reign had witnessed a continuation of this wise policy, but during Cromwell’s ministry an alliance which the threatening situation on the Continent had led England to conclude with LÜbeck, necessitated a temporary cessation of the process of curtailing the privileges of the Hanse merchants[294]. But the loud outcries of the people against the destructive competition of the Germans were sufficient to prevent Cromwell from making any permanent stand in their favour. Political necessity alone had induced him to postpone the complete withdrawal of their privileges: he knew that the tendency of the times was irresistibly against the Hanseatic towns, and he was perhaps the more willing to grant them a few temporary concessions in that he realized that nothing could ever raise them again to the position of dangerous rivals to English trade. His foresight was justified by the event; the process which Henry VII. had begun was completed by the fall of the Steelyard in the reign of Elizabeth. A more difficult problem was presented by the Netherlands. England and the Low Countries were commercially indispensable to each other; the English wool-market in Flanders was the centre of the mercantile interests of both nations. The merchants of the Netherlands, however, had contrived to get the better of their English neighbours until the accession of the house of Tudor; but the concessions which resulted from the temporary removals of the English wool-mart from Antwerp to Calais by Henry VII., and the enormously advantageous commercial treaty which that King was able to wring from the Archduke Philip when fortune had thrown the latter into his hands in 1506, had completely altered the situation to England’s profit[295]. The efforts of Henry VIII. and Wolsey had been directed towards preserving the provisions of the agreement of 1506, the validity of which the Netherlanders were of course unwilling to acknowledge. Cromwell went further than this; his administration witnessed not only the maintenance and increase of all the advantages which his predecessor had secured, but also the discussion of a plan for attaining complete commercial independence of the Low Countries, by bringing home the English wool-mart to London[296]. This scheme was not carried through, owing to the unwillingness of the King to offend the Emperor; but the news of the proposals for it was soon known in the Netherlands, and was not without its effect there. The merchants of the Low Countries were greatly alarmed lest they should lose the English trade, and instead of opposing every move which their rivals made, now began to grant them all possible concessions. The Emperor’s dread of alienating Henry also contributed to force them to adopt a more conciliatory attitude than ever before, and it may be justly said that at the close of Cromwell’s administration the mercantile relations of England and the Netherlands were so regulated as to secure every advantage for the former. Cromwell’s whole commercial policy was strongly influenced by his desire to increase and improve English shipping, especially at the last, when an invasion was threatened from the Continent[297]. His ‘remembrances’ are filled with items for appropriations for building and rigging vessels of various kinds, and for making and improving harbours[298]. He did his utmost to clear the Channel of pirates, and was diligent in writing letters to demand restitution of goods taken from English merchants at sea[299]. In 1540 he caused an Act to be passed for the ‘maintenance of the navy[300]’: one of its provisions restricted the privileges conferred on all foreign merchants by a proclamation in the previous year[301] to those who transported their wares in English ships.

Throughout Cromwell’s ‘remembrances’ occur countless minor items dealing with miscellaneous questions of internal reform. Memoranda for the building and improvement of roads and highways, for bettering the state of the coast defences, and for the regulation of the rates of wages, are especially numerous. In 1538 he aided Norfolk in suppressing a sort of strike among the Wisbech shoemakers, who had agreed to stop work unless their wages were raised from 15d. to 18d. per dozen boots sewed[302]. It is perhaps unnecessary to state that this strike was regarded as a revolt against authority, and that the masters gained an easy victory over the men. Among Cromwell’s injunctions to the clergy in 1538 is an order to keep parish registers of births, marriages, and deaths[303]. Apparently this measure was intensely unpopular, especially in the south-west of England, where people seem to have got the notion that ‘some charges more than hath been in time past shall grow to them by this occasion of registering of these things[304].’ Precisely what the immediate object of the injunction was it is difficult to say, though there is little reason to think that the fears it aroused among the people of Cornwall and Devonshire were realized. It has been grudgingly applauded by one writer, and characterized as ‘an inadequate attempt to supply the loss of the registers of various kinds which had been kept by the monks[305]’; but its inadequacy, however great, might well pass unmentioned, in the face of the many benefits which later resulted from it. However unpopular the measure may have been at the time, its author certainly deserves the thanks of posterity for preserving a vast amount of valuable information which would otherwise have been lost.

A few words remain to be added concerning Cromwell’s zeal for the advancement of learning. As his political schemes had caused him incidentally to take sides with the Reformation, his object was to strengthen those who favoured the new religion and opposed Rome. Education is necessary to reform; and Cromwell did not intend to leave to ignorant men the task of carrying on the work he had begun. He therefore took steps to see that the opportunities for learning were improved. Among the injunctions which he issued to the clergy in 1536[306], is a clause providing for an increased number of exhibitions at the schools and the Universities, ‘to thintent that lerned men maye hereafter spring the more.’ His dealings with Oxford and Cambridge do not seem to have been very important, although in June, 1535, he was appointed Chancellor of the latter in place of Fisher. He appears to have been much occupied in suppressing the various quarrels that constantly took place between the students and the townspeople, and the letters which he wrote to the Magistrates of Cambridge deal for the most part with this problem[307]. In October, 1535, the King appointed him Visitor to the University, and at the same time promulgated nine injunctions in which he directed the Chancellor, Masters and Scholars of Cambridge to abandon the ‘frivolous questions and obscure glosses’ of the schoolmen, to read and teach the Scriptures, and to swear to the Royal Supremacy and the new Succession[308]. Henry’s minister, as usual, was the instrument employed to see that the injunctions were enforced. Of Cromwell’s relations to Oxford still less remains to be said. There are letters from him concerning the admission of a President of Magdalen in 1535[309], and the election of a Master of Balliol in 1539. The latter appears to have been a most disreputable character, and Cromwell’s assertion that he was chosen without ‘any parcyalyte or corruptyon’ was certainly false[310]. A very interesting but comparatively well-known report from the pen of Dr. Layton gives us a vivid picture of the state of the University in 1535, and tells of the foundation of several new lectures at the various colleges[311].

As a reward for his success in the management of domestic affairs, the King conferred on him the many dignities and titles which, in 1536, marked the height of his power. He had been raised to the offices of Privy Councillor, Master of the Jewels, Clerk of the Hanaper, and Master of the King’s Wards in 1531 and 1532. The Chancellorship of the Exchequer had followed in 1533. He became Principal Secretary to the King in 1534, Master of the Rolls in the same year, Vicar-general and Visitor-general of the Monasteries in January, 1535, Lord Privy Seal, Vicegerent of the King in Spirituals[312] in July, 1536. He was also created Baron Cromwell of Okeham in the same month, and Knight of the Garter in August, 1537. During the last seven years of his ministry he was granted no less than nineteen minor offices, through which his income must have been very greatly increased[313]. Just prior to the outbreak of the Pilgrimage of Grace, Cromwell’s position was almost that of a despot. He was supreme in Convocation, Privy Council, and Parliament; he enjoyed paramount authority in the direction of internal affairs, and next to the King was by far the most important man in the realm.

A letter of Chapuys in the summer of 1536[314], soon after Anne Boleyn’s execution, tells us that it was even rumoured that Cromwell might marry the Princess Mary, but the Imperial ambassador himself was too shrewd to be misled by such an improbable report[315]. Had Cromwell seriously entertained the idea of a union with the daughter of the divorced Queen, he would scarcely have permitted himself to be made use of by the King as an instrument for breaking down her resolution: he could scarcely have written her such a brutal letter as that of June 10, 1536[316]. But the inequality in rank is certainly in itself sufficient proof of the absurdity of the proposition. Cromwell was about the last man in the world to become reckless with success; he never for a moment forgot his low birth, and the imprisonment of the brother of his rival the Duke of Norfolk for presuming to wed the King’s niece was a warning of the danger of such a proceeding, which could not have been lost on him[317]. If such a proposition were put forward at all, and we cannot believe that it was, it could only have been as a pretext to prevent the Princess from leaving the realm and joining with her cousin the Emperor in an attempt to dethrone the King.

Cromwell was certainly shrewd enough to see that he could never hope to marry into a reigning house himself, but he was none the less anxious that his son Gregory should wed such a wife as would enable him to found a noble family. In April, 1533, Gregory had been taken from Cambridge, and sent to live with his father’s friend Dr. Rowland Lee, with whom he appears to have spent a summer in hunting[318]. In 1535 he came out into public life, and in 1539 he was summoned to Parliament as a peer of the realm. Two years earlier he had been able to contract an advantageous marriage with the widow of Sir Anthony Ughtred, sister of Jane Seymour[319]. This fortunate match must be attributed to his father’s influence, for Gregory seems to have been entirely without ambition, and such an idea would never have entered his mind; his father, on the contrary, was precisely the man to think of it. The number of grants either made jointly to Cromwell and his son, or providing for the succession of the latter at his father’s death[320], corroborates the theory that the King’s great minister wished Gregory to be the heir of all his possessions and emoluments as far as might be, and desired to raise his family to a permanent position among the English nobility.

Of course Cromwell was obliged in large measure to abandon his private business after he definitely entered the King’s service, but his new position brought him far greater riches than he could possibly have amassed in his old occupations. The various inventories of his goods indicate great wealth and prosperity. He gave costly New Year’s presents at the Court, and owned several houses, all of them magnificently furnished[321]. After October, 1534, when he was made Master of the Rolls, his correspondence shows him to have been constantly in residence at the Rolls House, where he held his Court. Writing in 1535, the Prioress of Little Marlowe complained that so great was the crowd of his visitors there, that it was impossible to gain access to him[322].


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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