It is inevitable that there should be the widest divergence of opinion concerning every great figure in Reformation history, and it is idle to attempt to form an estimate of the character and work of Thomas Cromwell that will satisfy those who take different views of the great struggle during which his life was lived. But Catholics and Protestants must agree on the fundamental and permanent nature of the changes which he wrought: whether his work was good or bad, no one can deny his success in fulfilling his life’s aim as declared to Cavendish on the All Hallows Day when he rode forth to London ‘to make or to marre.’ He was the first chief minister that England had ever had, who was base-born and yet not a cleric. He stood completely outside the great religious movement of his time, and only made use of it to further his own political ends. He came at a time when things were in an unsettled state and ready for a change: his personality, emotionless, practical, stern, impressed itself on every phase of the national life. It was not alone in Parliament, Convocation, or Privy Council that he reigned supreme; on every department of the government service the stamp of his individual genius remains indelibly fixed. The permanence of his work was largely due to the way in which he clinched every reform which he introduced. He followed up the separation from Rome by attacking in turn the bishops, clergy, and friars, and by suppressing the monasteries. He obtained the support of the King in almost every measure which he invented, and then forced Parliament formally to legalize it. His action was in no case ineffective; the immediate result of it was almost always the attainment of the goal at which he aimed.
To the student of the present day, however, who is enabled to survey the decade of Cromwell’s rule after a lapse of more than three and a half centuries, the immediate effects of his measures fade into the background and lose their importance, in the face of later and far greater developments. The latter were not always the results Cromwell wished to attain; in many cases they were ends which, if he could have foreseen, Cromwell would have been the last person to promote. They came years later, indirectly, as it were, and were rendered possible only by the lapse of time, the influence of other statesmen, and the growth and progress of civil and religious liberty, but none the less were they due to the impulse of Thomas Cromwell. By following out the effect of a few of the more important steps of his policy, it will not be difficult to see what some of these later developments were.
Let us take in the first place his action in rejecting the authority of the See of Rome. Cromwell advised the King to shake off his allegiance to the Pope, solely because he saw that a divorce from Katherine of Aragon could never be obtained from Clement VII., as long as the latter was in the power of Charles V. His aim was to please the King by enabling him to divorce Katherine, so that he might marry Anne Boleyn; he realized that his desire could not be accomplished while the country remained true to the Old Faith; he cut the bonds that held England to Rome, and gained what Henry wished. The direct result, the only thing he cared about, was accomplished; but far more important than that, it was by Cromwell’s means that Protestantism gained a footing in England, which even the Six Articles and the terrible persecution under Mary could not shake. To guard against the return of the Papal power, and the annulling of the divorce, Cromwell attacked and subdued the clergy, and negotiated with the Protestants on the Continent. His immediate object was solely political safety; the ultimate result was the loosening of some of the strongest bonds of Romanism, and the opening of the road for the incoming of the new religion. Thus out of moves first made to attain and ensure a questionable end, grew consequences so great and so far-reaching that it is only with difficulty that one can trace their origin.
The same remark will be found to hold true of the results of the suppression of the monasteries[745]. The main object of the King’s Vicegerent in destroying them was undoubtedly to fill the royal treasury with the spoils of the Church, and to clinch the advantages gained by the separation from Rome. But the later result of his measures was actually to undo much of the work which they were first intended to perform. For though they had weakened religious opposition to the Crown, they strengthened the secular element in its later struggle against the royal autocracy which Cromwell had laboured to establish. We have seen that the lands of the suppressed houses had been either given away, or else sold at exceedingly low prices to the impoverished nobles by Cromwell’s advice, in order to ward off the opposition aroused by their destruction. This measure certainly attained its immediate purpose, but it also laid the foundation for the growth of an extremely powerful territorial aristocracy, that later on was to use its influence to oppose the royal prerogative and pave the way for modern constitutionalism. While Cromwell, in his attacks on the older nobility, thought that he was removing the last impediments to absolute monarchy, he really, by enriching and strengthening this new aristocracy, was rearing an infinitely more potent enemy to the kingship for which he had sacrificed everything. It is well known that such families as the Russells, Seymours, and Cavendishes, who later figured most prominently in opposition to the Crown, owed their power to gifts out of the revenues of the suppressed monasteries. The smaller gentry also claimed a share in the general advancement to wealth and prosperity among the landed proprietors, and a sudden burst of political activity in the Lords and Commons bore witness to the fact that the Houses had once more asserted their right to govern.
This brings us to Cromwell’s relations with Parliament. It is here that we find the most striking instance of the contradiction between the immediate and the permanent effects of the changes he wrought. We have seen how his attitude towards Parliament differed from that of his predecessor. We have seen how Wolsey had looked upon the national assembly as a great force which continually hampered his schemes, so that his dislike of it led him to summon it as infrequently as possible, and only when it was absolutely necessary. We have seen how Cromwell was destined to go one step further, and how by packed elections, fraud, and violence, he succeeded in converting it into an utterly subservient instrument of the royal will. It was now no longer a power to be feared, but one to be relied on; a firm ally that consistently obeyed the slightest hint of the wishes of the Crown. Consequently instead of rarely assembling as under Wolsey, it was being constantly summoned, as a necessary means to accomplish the designs of Henry and his minister. While the latter lived, everything worked exactly as he had intended, and the Parliament remained ‘tractable.’ But when after his death the idea of autocracy had passed away, and England had begun to recover from the terror Cromwell’s ministry had inspired, Parliament suddenly realized that it had a power of its own. Its frequent assemblings which of course had helped the Crown, as long as under Cromwell the Houses had remained subservient, now began to work just the other way, and aided it in shaking off the fetters that bound it to the King. It had been Cromwell’s plan that it should keep up the forms of constitutional liberty, as a sort of sop to the popular feeling, while in reality all its legislative vigour was lost. Now that the pressure of his hand was removed, the animating spirit revived, and finding all the old traditionary customs still intact began to infuse itself into Lords and Commons. The earlier independence of the Houses returned and increased, so that the final result of the work of Cromwell was on the one hand to thwart all efforts to compass the omnipotence of the Crown, and on the other to lay the basis for a constitutional government.
Had the English character been one that could permanently suffer any form of tyranny or absolute monarchy; had the ends the great minister aimed at been such that when the temporary madness and terror inspired by his own personality had passed by, they could have aroused one spark of enthusiasm in the English heart, Cromwell’s would have been the grandest figure in his country’s history. But it was not destined to be so. The national drift was throughout bitterly opposed to him and to the ideas for which he stood, so that much of his policy was reversed in the years that followed his death. There can be, it seems to me, no doubt that Cromwell was perfectly sincere in his attempt to establish an all-powerful kingship under the forms of ostensible constitutionalism. He did it not from selfish motives, but because he believed it to be the only sure road to national greatness. The crimes that marred his career cannot be excused, but may be palliated by this consideration, and by his dauntless courage in resolutely destroying the Curial control of the English courts and English Church; on this side of his work he was the true successor of Wyclif, the true predecessor of his own great kinsman. Cromwell lived in an age when a wave of monarchical enthusiasm swept over the entire west of Europe: a belief in the absolute power of kings was the most salient characteristic of the political atmosphere of his day. He was essentially a man of his time in his faults and in his virtues, and could scarcely have anticipated modern constitutionalism. Thus his policy perished with him, but his work remained and was permitted by change and reaction finally to attain results far more glorious and lasting than he had hoped for. The despotism of the Tudors fell with their dynasty, the liberties of the nation survived.
