The Wives of Henry the Eighth and the Parts They Played in History — David Hume — John Shaqi
The Wives of Henry the Eighth and the Parts They Played in History
David Hume · en
Henry promptly took his usual showy and unprofitable part in the war. Only
a few weeks after the Emperor bade his new ally farewell, an English force
invaded Picardy, and the Earl of Surrey's fleet threatened all French
shipping in the Channel. Coerced by the King of England too, Venice
deserted France and joined forces with the allies; the new Pope and the
Italian princes did the same, and the Emperor's arms carried all before
them in Italy. Henry was kept faithful to his ally by the vain hope of a
dismemberment of France, in which he should be the principal gainer; the
Pope Clement VII., the ambitious Medici, who succeeded Adrian in September
1523, hungered for fresh territory which Charles alone could give him; the
rebel De Bourbon, the greatest soldier of France, was fighting against his
own king; and in February 1525 the crushing blow of Pavia fell, and
Francis, "all lost except honour," was a prisoner in the hands of his
enemy, who looking over Christendom saw none to say him nay but the bold
monk at Wittemberg.
Three years of costly war for interests not primarily their own had
already disillusioned the English people. By methods more violent and
tyrannical than ever had been adopted by any previous king, Henry had
wrung from parliament supplies so oppressive and extortionate for the
purposes of the war as to disgust and incense the whole country. Wolsey,
too, had been for the second time beguiled about the Papacy he coveted,
and knew now that he could not trust the Emperor to serve any interests
but his own. The French collapse at Pavia, moreover, and pity for the
captive Francis languishing at Madrid, had caused in England and elsewhere
a reaction in his favour. Henry himself was, as was his wont, violently
angry at the cynical way in which his own hopes in France were shelved by
Charles; and the Pope, alarmed now at the Emperor's unchecked dominion in
Italy, and the insufficient share of the spoil offered to him, also began
to look askance at his ally. So, notwithstanding the official rejoicings
in England when the news of Pavia came, and the revived plan of Henry and
Wolsey to join Bourbon in his intention to dismember France, with or
without the aid of Charles, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Warham,
correctly interpreted the prevailing opinion in England in his letter to
Wolsey (quoted by Hallam), saying that the people had "more cause to weep
than to rejoice" at the French defeat. The renewed extortionate demands
for money aroused in England discontent so dangerous as to reach rebellion
against the King's officers.[34] Risings in Kent and the eastern counties,
and the outspoken remonstrances of the leaders of the middle and working
classes at length convinced Wolsey, and through him the King, that a
change of policy was inevitable. England once more had been made the
cat's-paw of Spain; and now, with an empty exchequer and a profoundly
discontented people, was obliged again to shift its balance to the side