* * *
At the beginning of September, however, Chapuys noticed a change. Anne's cousin, Sir Francis Bryan, returned from his Embassy in France at the end of August. Immediately, the ports were closed and Henry was 'continually engaged in Council'. Evidently, Bryan had returned with important news. But, despite his best efforts, Chapuys could not ferret it out. He did, however, reappraise his earlier judgement about Henry's idleness. 'This year', he decided on balance, '[the King] has attended more to business and less to sport than for a long time previously.' And Henry's new-found industry would continue into the autumn and through the winter. For at last he saw a way to the solution of the Great Matter – the Boleyn way which Henry would now make his own.
12
* * *
The first to confront the 'new' Henry was the newly appointed Papal Nuncio, Antonio de Pulleo, Baron de Burgo. His choice as Nuncio is yet another testimony to Clement's tact and understanding. Sensitive to the rising tide of English anticlericalism, the Pope had chosen a layman as his representative, not a cleric. De Burgo was also as near to a neutral on the Great Matter as was possible in the increasingly polarised world of the 1530s. On the one hand, as a Sicilian nobleman, he was a subject of Charles V in his capacity as King of Naples. On the other, he was in the Papal service, was high in Clement's personal confidence and had the temperament of a natural diplomat, being 'well-mannered . . . and learned', as the Milanese ambassador described him appreciatively. Best of all from Henry's point of view, Miçer Mai, the fiercely partisan Imperial ambassador in Rome, viewed his despatch with grave misgivings. 'I have done all I could to prevent his nomination', he reported. And when, despite his best efforts, De Burgo was sent, Mai conceded defeat with the dry: 'We shall see'.
13
Mai, it turned out, need not have worried. For, with all his patience and emollient charm, De Burgo found himself in an impossible situation. Acting on Clement's direct instructions, the Nuncio offered the compromise that Mai feared. But Henry rejected it. He had become as hardline as Mai himself.
* * *
All this was clear from the moment of De Burgo's first audience. He arrived in London on 9 September. The end of the hunting season, the Day of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, was still five days away, and the time was normally sacred to the chase. But Henry interrupted his sport to receive the Nuncio at Waltham Abbey on the 12th. De Burgo explained that the six-month moratorium, agreed with Wiltshire, was coming to an end and the trial in Rome would have to begin. But Clement would, he continued, go to almost any lengths to compromise on the judges and even the place of trial.
Henry brushed these offers aside. Who cared what a modern Pope of these degenerate times would do? 'For . . . it had been enacted', he informed the startled Nuncio, 'by several ancient Popes (whose authority should, on account of their sanctity, be of more weight than that of recent ones), that no cause having its origin in this country should be advoked to another kingdom.' He had already informed the Pope of this privilege. If Clement refused to honour it, Henry declared, 'I can safely proceed to action.' And if, as a consequence, Charles V attacked him, he would see off the attack. But, in any case, his good friend and ally, Francis I of France, would come to his defence.
14
Moreover, Henry did not rely on words alone. Instead, on 12 September 1530, the very day of De Burgo's audience, he issued a proclamation. This forbade any suit 'to the Court of Rome', or any attempt to publish in England any Bull obtained in the last year, which contained 'matter prejudicial to the high authority, jurisdiction and prerogative royal' of England. The penalty was
Praemunire
. This was the device which had destroyed Wolsey. It was now threatened against Catherine and her supporters, if they tried to publish a hostile Papal verdict against Henry. It was even threatened against De Burgo, if he served any procedural writs on the King.
15
On Sunday, 25 September, two days after the Progress ended, De Burgo went to Hampton Court to register a formal protest against the proclamation. He might have spared his breath. For the ministerial troika of Norfolk, Suffolk and Wiltshire maintained a united and vehemently anti-Papal front. 'They cared neither for Pope nor Popes in this kingdom', they bragged to De Burgo, 'not even if St Peter should come to life again; [and] that the King was absolute both as Emperor and Pope in his own kingdom.' It was brave talk. It also suggests that the work of fleshing out and documenting the idea of the 'custom and privileges of England' was already well underway.
16
Nevertheless, behind the united front, there were substantial disagreements between the three councillors. Suffolk (egged on by his wife, Henry's sister Mary) had always been opposed to the Boleyn marriage. Norfolk, as Anne's uncle, was willing to embrace it on grounds of selfadvancement and personal dynastic advantage. But now he, too, was baulking at the means, if we believe his words at a private interview, arranged at his request, with the Nuncio. '[Do] not . . . take any notice of the King's violent words,' he begged De Burgo in strict confidence, 'he would take good care that none of the King's threats should be carried into action.'
17
In fact, only Wiltshire seems to have been fully on the King's side. And his enthusiasm was limitless. While Norfolk went out of his way to signal moderation, Anne's father, on the contrary, flaunted his extremism and, to Chapuys's face, 'began slandering the Pope and Cardinals . . . violently'. Indeed his language was so outrageous that Chapuys could stand no more of it. Instead, he reported, 'full of horror at what was being said, I took leave and left the room immediately.' 'Should the Earl [Wiltshire] and his daughter remain in power,' Chapuys concluded, 'they will entirely alienate this kingdom from its allegiance to the Pope.' His words were as shrewd as analysis as they proved accurate as prophecy.
18
* * *
But the divisions within Henry's inner circle of advisers were nothing compared to those in the Council and the kingdom at large. Once again, in another meeting at Hampton Court at the beginning of October, Henry tried to get agreement to the proposition that the 'custom and privileges of the kingdom' allowed the Divorce to be settled in England. And once again he failed.
19
His first reaction, as usual when he was thwarted, was rage. Then he turned to overcoming the opposition. There were two means. One was research, to make the case for the 'custom and privileges' more persuasive. Here Henry himself took the lead. The other was a stick-andcarrot approach to opponents. This, as we shall see, was Anne's province. And she would show an especial talent for wielding the stick.
* * *
Research, then as now, depends on books and a good library. So the first sign that Henry was turning himself into a researcher on the 'custom and privileges' came in October when Sir John Russell, Wolsey's former client who still held on to his position in the Privy Chamber, received a reward of twenty shillings 'for bringing of books'. A month later, in late November, Thomas Heneage, another former Wolsey client in the Privy Chamber, arranged for the transport of books by boat from York Place to Hampton Court, where Henry would spend most of the autumn. But the principal source of supply was the monastic libraries.
20
Also in late November, the Abbot of Reading sent the King 'an inventory of books'. Two days later, the inventory was followed by a delivery of books from the same source. This would scarcely have given the King or his assistants time to read and mark up the list, as was done with another inventory of the libraries of Lincolnshire monasteries. But maybe Henry was working fast. At any rate, no fewer than seventeen books with a Reading provenance have been identified in the Old Royal Libraries, though it is unclear whether they were all sent in November 1530.
21
Why Reading? Proximity was probably one explanation: the House was quite near Hampton Court and Henry stayed there on at least twelve occasions in his reign. He also knew the Abbot, Hugh Faringdon. Faringdon was a monastic grandee of the old school, as much at home in the saddle as in the stall, and he kept in touch with Henry by sending him frequent presents of 'wood' or hunting knives.
Anne, almost certainly, had her connexions with the Abbey of Reading, too, and they make an instructive contrast with Henry's. In 1528, as Wolsey's henchmen were trying to purge Oxford from the consequence of Thomas Garrett's missionary book-selling, they discovered that the infection had spread further still. 'This Garrett', the Bishop of Lincoln reported to Wolsey, 'also hath, I fear, corrupted the Monastery of Reading, for he hath diverse times sent to the Prior there such corrupt books . . . to the number of three score or above, and received money of him for them.' 'How the said Prior hath used those books,' the bishop continued, 'and with whom, I know not.'
22
The Prior (or deputy-Abbot) was John Shirburn. Evidently, Shirburn was thrown into gaol, like most of the suspects in the affair. We have already seen that, in late 1528, Anne intervened with Wolsey on behalf of another suspect, Thomas Forman, the rector of Honey Lane. Nine or ten months later, in the dying days of Wolsey's ministry, the King himself was brought to intercede for Shirburn.
The King's Highness [Gardiner informed Wolsey on 7 September 1529] willed me also to write unto your grace, that suit is made unto him in favour of the Prior of Reading, who, for Luther's opinion, is now in prison, and hath been a good season, at your Grace's commandment. Unless the matter be much notable, and very heinous, he desireth your Grace, at his request, to cause the said Prior to be restored to liberty and discharged of that imprisonment.
This letter has not had the attention it deserves. 1529 is extraordinarily early for Henry to be intervening on behalf of an acknowledged Lutheran. His views on the subject were still harsh and it would have taken considerable courage to launch the suit on Shirburn's behalf. Who would have dared and who would have had the opportunity? It is difficult to think of anybody but Anne who, then and for the future, was to be the consistent protectoress of heterodox opinion.
If this guess is right, Anne knew Shirburn or at least his circle. She knew of the suspect books he had bought for the Abbey; she would also have had the opportunity of discovering the more orthodox riches of its collections.
Did she point Henry in the direction of Reading and its library when he was doing his research? It seems as likely as not.
In the following months, dozens more books were brought to Henry, from Ramsey (twice), Sempringham, Gloucester, Evesham, Spalding, and St Augustine's, Canterbury. And the more he read, the surer he became. He was indeed rightly 'absolute both as Emperor and Pope in his own kingdom'. Clement's powers, on the other hand, were a mere usurpation. In Henry's mind at least, the way was open to the Divorce – and to much else besides.
23
* * *
As Henry's convictions hardened, Anne's confidence rose. Not that she ever quite trusted Henry's resolution. In November 1530, for instance, she placed herself at a window in the King's Chamber where she could 'overhear and overlook' Henry's audience with Chapuys in the adjacent gallery. And, as Chapuys's replies became tougher, Henry, he noticed, manoeuvred him out of Anne's earshot into the middle of the room!
24
But events were now moving beyond the power of Chapuys's repartee. Parliament, much prorogued since its first session in 1529, was due to reconvene in January 1531. Anne hoped and Catherine feared that it would take decisive action. In eager anticipation, Anne adopted a new livery for Christmas. Its motto was borrowed from the Burgundian Court, where, long ago, she had begun her career in the Archduchess Margaret's household at La Vure.
'Ainsi sera, groigne qui groigne, Et vive
Bourgogne!'
the full motto went. Anne dropped the last line 'And long live Burgundy'. This left her servants emblazoned with the boast: 'Thus it will be, Grumble who will'.
25
And thus it was. But, contrary to expectation, the action took place in the Convocation (the 'parliament' of the clergy) which met alongside Parliament proper. Suddenly, the King called on the clergy to enact his own conviction that, 'as Emperor and Pope', he was indeed 'Supreme Head on Earth of the Church in England'. His spokesmen, headed by Stokesley, rehearsed the arguments. But Henry had a more powerful argument still. Once again, it was
Praemunire
. Once it had brought down Wolsey. Now it was turned against the entire clergy. All of them, Henry's lawyers argued, had recognised Wolsey's legacy. So all were guilty. The clergy fought and wriggled. But there was no escape. They had to acknowledge Henry's new title and pay a gigantic, collective fine of £100,000.
Only one thing was saved from the wreck: the sweeping claims of Henry's new title were modified by the addition of the phrase 'insofar as the Law of Christ allows'. It was Henry's turn to object to this, since, for the orthodox, the addition rendered his title meaningless. But finally he agreed. For of course
he
knew that Christ's Law, properly understood, indeed declared that he was 'Emperor and Pope'.
26
Anne had no doubts either. When she heard the news, Chapuys discovered, '[she] made such demonstrations of joy as if she had actually gained Paradise'.
27
In a sense, of course, she had. For Henry, she was sure, was in her grasp at last.
But first she had to remove the obstacles in her path.
56. Wolsey's end
A
nne's first target was Wolsey. Once, she had vowed undying devotion to him. But it was always conditional and, after Wolsey had betrayed her cause (as she saw it) in the Blackfriars Trial, she had become his most dangerous enemy. She was also the best placed to give effect to her feelings. But not even she could move as quickly as she wished. For Henry himself stood in her way.