Foundations of the Anglican Church LXIV

The Chapel Royal at Saint James Palace

The dissolution of the monasteries and the confiscation of their lands, buildings, and treasure was the most successful part of Henry’s raid on Church wealth to increase the wealth of the Crown, but it was not his first nor his only successful scheme to enrich the royal treasury from the Church’s immense wealth. 
To recap the problem: the Church had immense wealth—approximately one third of the land in England belonged to the Church and its revenues (mostly rents from tenants) went to the Church and did so without being taxable by the Crown.  The Crown, on the other hand, was desperately short of funds.  Henry was transforming England from a feudal kingdom to one of the first modern nation states (along with Spain and France, England’s traditional rivals/enemies.)  Henry knew he needed a Navy if he was to expand England’s trade and explore for both new markets and natural resources for manufacturing.  He also needed a Navy if he was to be able to defend England, particularly from Spain whose vast American Empire had required her to develop an unparalleled naval fleet.  Henry was not, for the most part, interested in foreign wars but he also needed a standing army if the Crown were to hold its own against the threats of the feudal nobility that were determined to preserve their traditional prerogatives against the centralized Government Henry was building.  To build that governmental machinery, Henry cultivated a new class of civil servants—drawing not on the old feudal families that had traditionally been ministers of state, but on the rural gentry and urban business classes whose sons had been sent to university to study law.  Henry vastly expanded the Civil Service to make royal government more efficient.  Where was he to get the resources to pay for this new England?  There could be no new taxation without Parliamentary consent.  The nobility in the House of Lords did not support the King because his plans were undermining their power.  The Commons were reluctant to vote new taxes because the burden fell on them and on their home constituency. They wanted the advantages of expanded government—increased commerce, more efficient judicial processes, better national security and defense—but they didn’t want it to come from their pockets. (I know: this does sound like a Democratic President with a Republican Congress and its fears of “big government,” but as Quoheleth said, “there is nothing new under the sun.”)   Henry had to look for existing wealth he could tap and the Church was replete with it. 
Henry began by seizing a number of ecclesiastical properties.  As mentioned in a previous post he took Wolsey’s country palace at Hampton Court, upriver from London, but he also took his London residence, York Place, which he renamed Whitehall and which became Henry’s principal London Residence. The problem in taking York Place, however, was that it wasn’t Wolsey’s personal property but the property of the Archbishopric of York (Wolsey was Archbishop of York) and which by right should have gone to Edward Lee, the next Archbishop of York for his use in London. Henry also seized Durham House, the London residence of the Bishops of Durham, from his submissive bishop of Durham, Cuthbert Tunstall.  This was not a punishment—Tunstall signed the Oath of Supremacy without complaint—and the King promised Tunstall Coldharbour in return, but never delivered on the promise.  Henry also disbanded the Leprosarium of Saint James and built a palace of the same name on the site.  The Palace of Saint James, though not used as the residence of the Sovereign since the accession of Victoria in 1837, remains in use today. Prince Charles long had his London residence there before moving to Clarence House.  The body of Charles’ ex-wife, Diana, lay there before her funeral in 1997. And their grandson, Prince George was baptized there this past October.     
In addition to seizing London properties belonging to bishops and abbots—most of which he turned to his private use—Henry forced cash settlements from the hierarchy.  In 1530 Convocation, the assembly of bishops and abbots, were charged with violations of the Statutes of Praemunire.  In the 14^th century Parliament passed a number of laws limiting papal power in England.  The Statute of Provisors (1306) forbad the sending out of England of revenue for any sort of tax, tribute, or fee imposed by a religious authority.  This would mean that such fees as Peter’s Pence, annates, or any fees paid to the Holy See were illegal.  (Annates were the monies paid to the Holy See when a cleric was appointed to his office—usually the first year’s salary.  In other words, a Bishop, a Cathedral Dean, an Abbot or another Churchman whose appointment required a papal confirmation was required by the Holy See to send to Rome the equivalent of his salary for his first year in office.  These amounts could be quite considerable.  The Statute of Provisors forbad this as well as other fees being sent abroad.)   
The 1353 Statute of Praemunire forbad filing an appeal to any Court outside England, including the Papal Court.  Thus it was forbidden to send any matter—such as a petition for annulment—to Rome for settlement.  In addition to annulments (which were rare) there were many cases where bishops or lower clergy appealed to Rome to settle matters of jurisdictional dispute or other questions that could not be handled by English courts—civil or ecclesiastical.  A further statute passed in 1393 forbad appealing to Rome or paying the Holy See for papal bulls, excommunications, or the translation of a prelate from one benefice to another.  These laws, along with several others that had been designed to limit the growth of Papal power in England but which had never been seriously enforced, compromised the entire hierarchy.  Every single Bishop and Abbot, as well as most Cathedral deans, had sent the required monies to Rome to obtain the bulls authorizing their consecration or abbatial blessing.  Every one of them had paid their annates.  Many of them had paid the fees that allowed them to transfer from one deanery to a better paying one, or one diocese to a wealthier one. Many clergy—not only bishops, abbots, and deans—had filed suits in a Roman Court.  The entire hierarchy stood guilty of a breach of law and the punishment declared them outlaws and the properties escheat to the Crown.  Moreover, not only were they to be punished, but their notaries and advisors were guilty and subject to punishment as well.  As I said, these laws had never been enforced but now Henry turned to Parliament—whose laws these were—and Parliament graciously decreed that should the clergy pay a fine of £118,000, punishment would be waived. 
Using the pension of £5 per annum paid to monks of suppressed abbeys in the 1537-41 dissolution of the monasteries as a guide, £118,000 would be worth approximately 475 million dollars in today’s cost of living.  (It is very difficult to give an accurate translation of cost from 1530 Tudor England to 2014 United States.  The actual value of the pound sterling, based on its silver content, would not be so high as to equal 475,000.000 USD 2014—perhaps the value would be about £27,500,000 in today’s British currency, or about 44,000.000 USD.   But you need to remember that a respectable 1540 salary for an English worker with which to support his family might be £8 a year.  Taking that as a base to translate the Pound Sterling for cost of living impact, you would come up with £295,000.000 or 475,000,000 USD.) 
This payment of £118,000 was only the beginning of Henry’s looting the Church coffers. A 1532 Act of Parliament reduced the amount of money sent to Rome for Annates and other fees to 5%.  1534 was a banner year for the Royal Coffers.  In the winter of that year, Parliament decreed that all monies formerly sent to Rome were now to go to the royal coffers.  In March that same year Parliament decreed that the Peter’s pence was no longer to be sent to Rome.  Later in the spring, Parliament then passed An Act Concerning the Archbishop of Canterbury, declaring that the power of dispensation formerly belonging to the Pope was now derived from the King’s authority and was to be exercised by the Archbishop of Canterbury. It further decreed that the King was to be given 2/3 of any revenue from dispensations. That same spring it then taxed the clergy ten percent of their income to the Crown.  The Act of Supremacy passed in November 1534 and generally considered the definitive break with Rome granted the Crown all monies formerly sent to Rome.  By this point, Henry had squeezed the Dioceses and secular clergy dry and so he then turned to the religious with the suppression of the monasteries. 

Foundations of The Anglican Church XLIV--The Rise and Fall of Thomas Wolsey II

Cardinal Wolsey's Coat of Arms

can still be seen above gateways

at Hampton Court

By the time that Henry had decided on seeking an annulment of his marriage to Katherine of Aragon, Wolsey was running the English government single-handedly.  Henry had entrusted everything to him.  This is not to say that Wolsey was setting policy—he was always very careful to follow royal policy though he could often persuade the King to follow a particular course of action as in the instance of when the King’s sister, Mary, the Dowager Queen of France,  in 1515 married Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk, without Henry’s permission.  (Keep this marriage in mind as it will have complications a little later in our story when a Protestant grand-daughter of Mary and Brandon claims the throne against the Catholic heir.)  Henry wanted to imprison the couple, and even considered executing Brandon (to marry an heir to the throne without permission of the monarch was an act of treason), but Wolsey talked Henry into forgiving the couple.  Mary was always Henry’s favorite sister and Wolsey’s healing the breach worked greatly to his advantage and Mary always remembered him as an ally.  When Henry would try to annul his marriage to Katherine, however, in favor of Anne Boleyn, Mary was strongly opposed.  She was a friend of Katherine’s and an enemy of Anne’s.
Wolsey too was an enemy of Anne.  Wolsey had been responsible for ending her romance with Henry Percy.  Some claim that Wolsey was only pimping for the King in breaking up the romance.  Others think he was working with the Boleyn family who had—before they saw the possibility of snagging the King—a more advantageous marriage in mind for the young lady.  Wolsey may have wanted to see Anne married to remove her as a threat to Katherine as he preferred the Spanish alliance over a French one.  But when Henry was determined for an annulment, Wolsey set about his work, promising the king it would be no problem.
And it should not have been a problem except for the complications caused by the relationship between Pope Clement VII Medici and Katherine’s nephew, the Emperor Charles V.   Whether from fear of Charles’ army that had sacked Rome in 1527 or in hopes of a Medici-Hapsburg alliance that would restore the Medici to Florence, Clement was determined to prevent the annulment.  After sending Cardinal Lorenzo Campeggio to England to “hear” the case along with Wolsey, Clement recalled the Cardinal in 1529 and said the case would be resolved in Rome. In other words, it would not happen.
This was Anne’s chance to attack Wolsey.  To paraphrase an episode of The Big Bang Theory, Anne was pushy and Henry was whipped.  Wolsey was finished.  Anne drew Henry’s attention to the Wolsey’s lavish residences in London—York Place and, upriver outside the city, Hampton Court.  Where did Wolsey get the resources, she wondered, to build such marvelous palaces.  Why did the King’s servant live even more grandly than did the King?  In 1529 Henry dismissed Wolsey as Lord Chancellor, replacing him with Sir Thomas More.  Hampton Court and York Place were confiscated.  Wolsey was particularly disturbed about signing over York Place as it was not his—it belonged to him only because he was Archbishop of York; it belonged not to him personally but to the Archbishopric.  Nevertheless, Henry got what Henry wanted; or what pushy Anne wanted.  York Place was renamed Whitehall, and would become the principle royal residence for the next 168 years.  (It was destroyed by fire in 1698.)  Hampton Court became the King’s favorite residence and it too would remain a royal palace throughout the Stuart period.  It is not to be missed if you go to London today.
Wolsey was forced to retire to his see in York—which he had not yet visited though he had been Archbishop there for fifteen years.  In 1530 he was arrested for treason—Henry sent Henry Percy—Anne’s old boyfriend—to arrest him in Yorkshire.  On his way south to London he stopped at Leicester Abbey, an Augustinian foundation where he told the Abbot and canons, “I have come to lay my bones among you.”  And so he did, taking ill and dying there on November 29, 1530.  His final words were allegedly: If I had served my God as diligently as I have served my King, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs.”
Prior to becoming a bishop, Wolsey had been in long term monogamous relationship with Joan Larke who bore him two children, both of whom survived to adulthood.  As his advancement drew more attention to himself, he arranged a marriage for Joan and provided her a handsome dowry.  The King built a home for the couple, though given Wolsey’s running the government, Henry may not have been aware of it. 
In the end, Wolsey had been a most industrious servant to the King and was treated quite shabbily but then that is the fate of those who step on people on their way up and who must suffer the consequences of how others treat them on their fall from power.  Henry and his daughter Elizabeth would each be served by several great ministers who took the day to day affairs of government into their hands.  The difference is that Henry didn’t watch closely what these ministers did while Elizabeth was assiduous in her attention to government.  Despite the impression Catholic historians give, Henry was a great King—and I will give reasons for that over several postings to come—but Elizabeth is undoubtedly the best monarch England would ever have.  That is ironic given Henry’s fears that a woman could not rule England, but then Mary—his daughter by Katherine of Aragon and his first heir—would prove his point and be a disaster on the English throne.  But all that is a ways down the road yet. 

Foundations of the Anglican Church XLIII--The Rise and Fall of Thomas Wolsey, I

Hampton Court, Gate House 

Before we go too far on into Henry’s split with Rome, we need to tie up a few odds and ends here.  I want to take a look at the rise and fall of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey and of Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More.  I also need to introduce you to a third Thomas, Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury who granted Henry’s annulment and was his ecclesiastical agent in the break with Rome. And as long as we are looking at Thomases, we will add a fourth—Thomas Cromwell, the secular agent of the break with Rome.   But let’s start with Wolsey.
Wolsey was born in 1473 in Ipswich.  Reports differ as to his Father’s occupation, some claiming he was a butcher, others a merchant.  In any case, Wolsey’s origins are middle class, though perhaps rather prosperous.  In fact, his father died in the Battle of Bosworth Field in which Henry VII Tudor defeated Richard III and became King.  An ordinary merchant,  much less a common butcher, would not have had his death noted even if he had been involved in a battle and so Robert Wolsey must have been a man of some prominence and means—perhaps a wealthy businessman (whether in the meat-trade or cloth trade) seeking to earn a knighthood by fighting valiantly on the right side.  We don’t know, of course, which side he was on and, though as he might have fought valiantly, he was killed and so he did not become a knight.  Thomas would have been a boy of twelve or thirteen when his father died.  Wolsey had studied at Ipswich school and went on to matriculate at Magdalene College, Oxford.  At the age of 25 he was ordained priest, not an unusual choice for a university graduate and not necessarily a sign of his having a genuine vocation.  Priesthood was about career and did not usually involve a call from God.  His career was somewhat meteoric.  He went from being Master of Magdalene, to being chaplain to the Archbishop of Canterbury.  Unfortunately Archbishop Deane died after only a year and the young chaplain found himself in search for a new patron. Entering the service of Richard Nanfan, a knight, he was named executor of Nanfan’s estate and when Nanfan died, had come to the attention of Henry VII who brought him into the royal service.
Wolsey was an ambitious man; he was also extremely capable.  Today we would label him a “workaholic.”  Henry VII, distrustful of the old nobility, relied on men from the middle class who were efficient and hardworking to perform the tasks of government administration.  Wolsey was perfect for this role.  The old king died when Wolsey had only completed two years in the royal service, but the young Henry VIII had noticed Wolsey and appointed him almoner, a post that gave him a seat on the privy council—the King’s “cabinet.”  The almoner was the royal servant in charge of disbursing charity in the King’s name but in fact he controlled the royal budget and had immense power to act in the King’s name.  You wanted the favor of the Almoner.  You might give the Almoner a handsome gift now and then to be sure of his favor.  Wolsey grew to be a wealthy man. 
Wolsey certainly used his position to do good to those who were good to him, but first and foremost he was there to serve the King.  He did not always agree with Henry, but he always bowed to Henry’s will and he made Henry’s choices work out well.  Some of the older counselors were more forthright in opposing the King’s choices and advising against him.  Henry did not like that.  He liked Wolsey’s approach—do what the King wants and make it work.  In 1515 Henry asked Archbishop Warham of Canterbury to resign as Lord Chancellor and he appointed Wolsey to that post.  (Warham remained Archbishop of Canterbury—and that is an important part of our story to which we will get in a few postings down the road.)   Today the Lord Chancellor’s role is more ceremonial than anything else, but in the sixteenth century the Lord Chancellor was the King’s chief minister.  The Lord Chancellor made the government work.
And Thomas Wolsey made the government work.  Henry had only to communicate his choices, and Thomas made sure they were carried out.  He was so efficient that Henry felt no need to oversee the day to day operations of government.  Wolsey had it all in hand.  To provide sufficient financial support for his aide-de-camp, Henry nominated Wolsey first as Bishop of Lincoln, and then, later in the same year, 1514, as Archbishop of York.   York was England’s second Primatial See if you remember from earlier postings.  In 1515, at Henry’s request, Leo X named Wolsey a Cardinal. 
Wolsey did not go to Rome to receive his Cardinal’s hat.  It was common in those days that the hat was sent and placed on the new Cardinal’s head by whoever was the Cardinal’s Sovereign.  Wolsey arranged for a magnificent pageant for the hat being received at Dover and brought in solemn procession to Westminster Abbey where it rested on the altar until the day when Henry placed it on Wolsey’s head.   Just as a note, the royal crown traditionally rested on the altar of Westminster Abbey between the funeral of the previous Sovereign and the coronation of the next.  In arranging this pageant, Wolsey was setting himself up as a second king in England.  Henry was too busy having a good time to realize this.
Wolsey used the immense resources at hand to build a lavish palace for himself at Hampton Court.  He already had a palace in the city—York Place—the traditional London residence of the Archbishops of York, but he wanted a “country house” as well and so built Hampton Court.  Wolsey spent £50,000, which would probably be worth over 350 million dollars in today’s currency.  Wolsey’s extravagant designs were based on Paolo Cortese’s De Cardinalatu, a manual to instruct the prelates of the Roman Court on how to live graciously as Renaissance princes.  Henry knew of the house—he stayed there as a guest of Wolsey’s on several occasions, but at first it never crossed his mind how this butcher’s boy from Ipswich had found the resources to live as well—if not better—than the King.  Ah, but that would all come to a close