by Gwyn, Peter
From Skelton onwards, Wolsey’s ostentatious life-style has attracted unfavourable comment. Interestingly, lay figures, such as the Cecils, who made immense private fortunes as leading councillors to Elizabeth and James I, have to a great extent escaped criticism;127 and perhaps the expectation is that as a churchman, Wolsey should have behaved better. In a later chapter it will be argued that the expectation is unwarranted, or at the very least that it involves a judgement about how the Church should present itself, a judgement that has by no means always come down on the side of apostolic poverty – and justifiably so. Wolsey did pour money into building, purchased tapestries and carpets, and commissioned all kinds of beautiful objects, from illuminated manuscripts through to jewellery and silver.128 His chief London residence from 1514, York Place, was the traditional home of archbishops of York, but it seems to have been largely rebuilt by Wolsey. Very little detail about this has survived, but the new work was considered impressive enough by Henry VIII for him to appropriate it on Wolsey’s fall in 1529, and in the process it acquired the new name of Whitehall.129 Wolsey’s chief out-of-town residence was the building most associated with him, Hampton Court.130 This in 1515 he leased from the Knights Hospitallers, though it had been used by Henry VII. Again, the details of Wolsey’s quite clearly extensive rebuilding are not known, but when Bishop Sherburne visited it in 1525 he found it a ‘most splendid and magnificent house’,131 a view shared by a French envoy in 1527.132 However, in 1525 Wolsey had surrendered Hampton Court to the king, or rather he seems to have exchanged it for Richmond. For some, this has been seen as confirmation that, as Skelton would have it, Henry was becoming fed up with being constantly outshone by his minister, most visibly in the matter of palaces, but given that an exchange was involved – and apparently, unlike his father, Henry had never taken to Richmond – this seems very unlikely. Wolsey certainly continued to use Hampton Court a lot, but was anyway by 1525 making increasing use of two manor houses belonging to St Albans, whose abbot he had become in 1522, the More and Tittenhanger, and the more likely conclusion is that the exchange was agreeable to both men.133
What is not in doubt is that wherever Wolsey was in residence, or when, for instance, in 1527 he travelled to France, he lived in great style – and to his first biographer’s obvious admiration. In his conclusion, Cavendish referred to him as ‘my late lord and master, the rich and triumphant legate and Cardinal of England’,134 while earlier he went to great lengths to describe the magnificence of Wolsey’s household, which according to him numbered some five hundred people.135 It may be that present-day Western man is not quite as impressed by magnificence as his sixteenth-century counterpart, though much fascination – and repulsion – with glamour, and royalty, still abounds. But it is important to appreciate that in Wolsey’s time magnificence of all kinds was expected from princes, whether of Church or state, and that for Wolsey to have dressed down would have won him very few marks indeed.136 All his colleagues, including his episcopal ones, lived in some style.137 Warham’s household consisted of well over two hundred people,138 and he is alleged to have spent £33,000 on the building of a new ‘palace’ – as significantly bishops’ major residences were called – at Otford.139 And he had a reputation for a certain personal abstemiousness and frugality!140 Although the figure has to be an exaggeration, he did virtually rebuild Otford, and on such a magnificent scale that its courtyard was larger than Hampton Court’s – and this despite the fact that his two predecessors, Bourchier and Morton, had spent a lot of money on rebuilding Knole, only a stone’s throw away.141 If only to suggest that there was nothing very personal in Henry’s acquisition of Hampton Court, it is worth pointing out that in the 1530s he was to acquire, by exchange, both Knole and Otford from the then archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, whom nobody has ever accused of wanting to upstage Henry!142
What is difficult about Wolsey’s outward show is not that it occurred, because any cardinal and lord chancellor would have had to exhibit a good deal, but deciding how far it reflected a genuine personal preference. Given how little can ever be known about Wolsey’s inner feelings, there is probably no way of arriving at a confident answer, but in resisting what has been the received and, admittedly not unnatural view, that he positively revelled in it, it would be wrong to go too far in the other direction. On such a matter Cavendish, who must have been present at many of Wolsey’s entertainments, may provide a valuable insight, as regards both Wolsey’s attitude in this matter and, even more importantly, his relationship with Henry. ‘It pleased the king’s majesty’, he writes,
for his recreation to repair unto the cardinal’s house (as he did divers times in the year), at which time there wanted no preparations or goodly furniture with viands of the finest sort that might be provided for money or friendship. Such pleasures were then devised for the king’s comfort and consolation as might be invented or by man’s wit imagined. The banquets were set forth with masques and mummeries in so gorgeous a sort and costly manner that it was an heaven to behold. There wanted no dames or damsels meet or apt to dance with the maskers or to garnish the place for the time, with other goodly disports143.
He then goes on to describe a particular occasion when the king arrived, apparently unexpectedly, disguised as a shepherd, as indeed were those who accompanied him. The first that Wolsey and his guests knew about it was a volley of cannon, not perhaps the usual way to announce a band of shepherds, but then these were dressed in fine cloth of gold and crimson satin! Anyway, Wolsey sent the lord chamberlain, Lord Sandys, and the master of the revels, Sir Henry Guildford, to see who they were, and the story was that they had travelled many miles across the sea, drawn to Wolsey’s household by the fame of his splendid banquets and the beautiful damsels that graced them. They requested Wolsey’s permission to dance and play at dice and this he duly granted. All their winnings, amounting to over two hundred crowns, were then placed before him, he was asked to throw for them, and to everyone’s delight, so Cavendish alleges, he won. He then asked whether there was not amongst them some particular nobleman worthy enough for him to give up his seat to at the head of the banquet. Yes, there was, but Wolsey would have to pick him out himself from amongst their company. This he did, but to everyone’s amusement he chose not Henry, but Sir Edward Neville, who apparently much resembled the king. This diversion over, Henry and his courtiers went away to change, to be greeted on their return by an entirely new banquet at which were ‘served two hundred dishes or above of wonderous costly meats and devises subtly devised. Thus passed they forth the whole night with banqueting, dancing and other triumphant devices, to the great comfort of the king and pleasant regard of the nobility there assembled.’144
Cavendish explains that he had given this lengthy description so that the reader might ‘understand what joy and delight the Cardinal had to see his prince and sovereign lord in his house so nobly entertained and pleased; which was always his only study’;145 and it is precisely for the same reason that it is repeated here. The evening’s entertainment could not have taken place in the first flush of Henry’s and Wolsey’s relationship; if Lord Sandys was truly present as lord chamberlain, it must have occurred after 1526. But it may nevertheless serve to capture a vital aspect of their mutual attraction: a shared delight in the good things of life, an enormous vitality and almost animal energy, and a feeling that together they could set the world alight. This hyperbole may worry, and much of the time the discussion between them would have been of a much more mundane nature, whether to do with the small change of royal patronage or how to react to trouble in East Anglia. But the suggestion is that the reason why Henry chose Wolsey to be his leading minister was that in him he had discovered someone who could share in his dreams and who at the same time, and most vitally, had the ability to turn them into a reality. In the end, such a conclusion can only be guesswork, a feeling one gets after long absorption in the lives of the two men, but it may be given some further weight if one glances briefly at the other cou
ncillors surrounding Henry at the start of his reign.
Enough has already been said about Richard Fox, obviously clever enough, but ageing and anxious to turn his thoughts to less temporal matters. Also discussed earlier was Thomas Howard duke of Norfolk, who, although he had made himself into a more than loyal and not incompetent royal servant, was, in his late sixties, even older than Fox, and by temperament and circumstances seemingly cautious and a little on the dour side. His son, the future third duke, will be considered more fully later, but he had one characteristic that alone would have excluded him from the kind of role that Wolsey was to play, and that was his dislike of responsibility.146 As for the two other dukes, Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, and Edward Stafford 3rd duke of Buckingham, the former was to remain an extremely close friend to Henry, and had enjoyed a rise almost as spectacular as Wolsey’s – in his case from mere esquire to duke in under five years – and though very good in the tiltyard and a not incompetent soldier, he never showed any significant political ambition, one reason, perhaps, why he retained the king’s favour for so long.147 Buckingham appears as almost the ageing Hamlet of Henry’s court, very uncertain about what he wanted from life, or from Henry, and as a result unwilling to put in the amount of work necessary to become an active member of his Council.148
As for the others, Charles Somerset, in 1514 created earl of Worcester, was obviously a highly skilled diplomat and administrator, but he was well into his fifties, and never seems to have exhibited the necessary oomph to land a star role. Ruthal was a very competent pen-pusher, but no more than that. Lord Darcy was on the slide for reasons that are not entirely clear, but he shows no sign of ever having possessed the qualities needed to perform the kind of role that Wolsey was to play. He was also part of the old king’s regime, and this probably did not help anyone who aspired to play a leading role in the new king’s court. The spectacular evidence for this is, of course, the dismissal and execution of two of Henry VII’s leading councillors, Empson and Dudley, a very deliberate, not to say ruthless, political act. They suffered for allegedly arbitrary and illegal actions taken against the king’s subjects and, whether true or not, their removal contributed to that enormous feeling of elation and liberation that the new reign ushered in. ‘Heaven smiles, earth rejoices; all is milk and honey and nectar,’ wrote Lord Mountjoy in his famous letter to Erasmus,149 while Thomas More in a coronation poem wrote more sharply that ‘this day is the limit of our slavery, the beginning of our freedom, the end of sadness, the source of joy’.150 But despite the downfall of Empson and Dudley, there was in fact a good deal of continuity as regards royal councillors, with Fox and Norfolk very much in evidence at the start of the reign, and no mad rush dramatically to alter England’s stance in European affairs. Rather there was a change in tempo, and with it an inevitable change of personnel, with Wolsey’s rise to prominence being the most obvious example. If this scenario is correct, it confirms a central argument of this chapter, that Wolsey did not have ‘to wade through blood’ to get to the top. As the choice of a king who had quickly established his authority, there was never likely to have been any serious opposition to his rise. Moreover, as will emerge, Wolsey was never in the business of stirring up opposition to himself, and indeed seems to have been exceptionally good at what might be called ‘man-management’ – even if the men were noblemen. But, in fact, none of his potential rivals constituted much of a threat, even if they had wanted to; not even Richard Fox, nor the man whom Wolsey succeeded as lord chancellor in December 1515, William Warham.
Warham had been appointed archbishop of Canterbury in 1503 and lord chancellor in the following year. By 1515 he was in his mid-sixties. As has been mentioned already, his progress to the top was typical of the successful ecclesiastical careerist, and he seems to have possessed something of the necessary caution – which is not to deny him many good qualities. What he could never have been was someone to excite Henry, and indeed, as a result of a serious quarrel between him and other bishops, led by Richard Fox, Henry had become distinctly tetchy with Warham as he obstinately refused to settle the dispute. Moreover, as will be shown in the following chapter, during 1515 he became involved in a major dispute with Henry over the important matter of the relationship between Church and state. All this means that Henry was probably keen to replace him as lord chancellor with someone, such as Wolsey, with whom he had a much better, not to say very close, relationship; and no doubt Wolsey was keen to get the job. What does not seem to be the case, however, is that in December 1515 Warham was either dismissed by Henry or manoeuvred out by the thrusting Wolsey. Admittedly, the combined weight of Cavendish, Hall and Vergil is for a Warham unhappy with Wolsey’s increasing prominence,151 but a letter written only about six weeks after Warham’s resignation, and by someone who had many dealings with him, must surely count for more, especially as the writer was Thomas More. And what More told Erasmus was that Warham was only too delighted to have obtained greater privacy and the leisure to enjoy his books, adding significantly that the archbishop had only secured his liberty ‘after some years of strenuous effort’.152 And when in June Colet wrote to Erasmus he confirmed that Warham was now ‘living happily at leisure’.153
What More also mentioned in his letter to Erasmus was that Wolsey had been appointed in Warham’s place and was winning ‘golden opinions’.154 Why this may have been so will be the subject of a separate chapter, but before he ever became lord chancellor Wolsey had, on 10 September 1515, been created a cardinal. The reason why, and what it meant for him and for his master, must be tackled next.
1 See p.12 ff. for a full discussion of this issue.
2 Wolsey’s entry in Emden, Oxford remains the best source for this.
3 I have discovered nothing that adds much to Redstone and Cameron; also useful are A.F. Pollard, pp.11-25 and Ridley, The Statesman and the Fanatic, pp.1-9, 18-28.
4 There is no precise answer to the question of why Magdalen, but the college owned extensive property in East Anglia and the bishops of Norwich were entitled to fill four places from those in the diocese; for which see Statutes of the Colleges of Oxford, ii, p.17.
5 Stainer, pp.23, 55.
6 Cavendish, pp.4-5.
7 He is more likely to have entered at fifteen and have graduated at eighteen or nineteen.
8 McConica, Collegiate University, pp.165, 181-5, 295-6; Stainer, pp.31 ff.
9Register of the University of Oxford, pp.67, 296-7.
10 J.M. Fletcher, pp.194-5.
11 Macray, iii, p.19. See also A.F. Pollard, p.12 for a full discussion, though predictably he is unwilling to clear Wolsey completely of financial indiscretion.
12Statutes of the Colleges of Oxford, p.46. It was a requirement that was almost universal, though the value of the benefice varied; at New College it was 10 marks (£6 10s.).
13 Cavendish, pp.5-6.
14 The informants were the Elizabethans, Sir Roger Wilbraham (fornication) and Sir John Harrington (drunkenness); see Ridley, The Statesman and the Fanatic, p.20.
15 A.F. Pollard, p.13.
16Letters and Papers Illustrative, i, pp.425-52.
17LP, i, 20 for Henry VII’s funeral. It is Wolsey’s absence from any lists drawn up for Henry VIII’s coronation (LP, i, 82) which has led to the speculation that he must have temporarily lost his position as chaplain.
18 A.F. Pollard, p.13.
19LP, i, 257 (31); it is a royal grant to Wolsey as almoner rather than his appointment to the office. The fact that Wolsey had not obtained the office on the death of John Edenham in July may lend credence to some version of the conspiracy theory, but it does not have to. Hobbs had been a royal chaplain for much longer than Wolsey and was a very strong candidate for the office; see his entry under ‘Hobbys’ in Emden, Oxford.
20 See p.265.
21 See Wolsey’s entry in Emden, Oxford for all the above details.
22 The locus classicus is Elton’s Henry VIII of 1962, but see inter alia his ‘King of hearts’ in Studies
, i, pp.100-8, a review of J.J. Scarisbrick’s Henry VIII, a biography which began the counter-attack to Elton’s view, and remains in my view the most stimulating history of the reign. Meanwhile, Elton’s view has been developed to present a picture of Henry as the victim of faction; in particular by his former pupil, D.R. Starkey – perhaps most characteristically in History Today, 32 (1982) – and by E.W. Ives in Anne Boleyn and Faction in Tudor England. For an important review of all these historians’ work, in which their view of Henry VIII is seriously questioned, see Bernard, HJ, 31.
23 Arguably this Henry is more my own construct, and it is important to point out that the dominant Henry can be either a ‘goody’, as in Pollard’s Henry VIII, or a ‘baddy’, as in W.G. Hoskins’s The Age of Plunder and J. Hurstfield’s ‘Was there a Tudor despotism?’, both of which quote Sir Walter Raleigh: ‘Now for King Henry the eight: if all the pictures and patterns of a merciless prince were lost in the world, they might all again be painted to the life, out of the story of this king.’ L. Baldwin Smith’s Henry VIII is also relevant, see p.23, n.2 below.
24 My views on Henry VIII are very close to those of G.W. Bernard, no doubt because we have so often discussed the king’s personality together, but see especially his War, Taxation and Rebellion, pp.40-5, 60-6.
25 Elton, ‘King of hearts’, p.104.
26 Hall, p.567.
27 Ibid, p.569.
28 Ibid, p.581.