Wolsey’s fall proceeded crabwise. The only part of the noblemen’s earlier plot against him which the King took up directly was to call a Parliament, the first since 1523. Writs went out across England at the beginning of October. Then matters accelerated. Wolsey was charged with praemunire on 9 October, and on the 17th he was dismissed as Lord Chancellor. His conviction for praemunire made him ‘attainted’: an attainder in theory meant that he lost all legal existence. All his estates were at the King’s mercy, notably York Place, Wolsey’s archiepiscopal house alongside the Palace of Westminster – already in the middle of lavish rebuilding, it was soon to be rebranded and extended as a prime royal residence, Whitehall.35 He was banished to Esher in Surrey, still not the worst fate in the world, for this rather stately house belonging to his diocese of Winchester was quite near the King’s much used residence at Hampton Court. The future, that location suggested, was still open, but rumours swirled, and there was a settled conviction in the City of London as the Cardinal left York Place for the last time that his destination was not Esher but the Tower. The crowds of excited spectators in boats on the Thames must have been greatly disappointed as Wolsey’s barge turned in the opposite direction towards Putney.36 This is likely to have been the occasion when Reginald Pole, just before leaving for Paris, noted the widespread belief in London that Cromwell had been arrested for his part in the dissolution of monasteries, and might well be executed.37
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As the worst crisis of his life so far moved towards this dire extremity, Thomas Cromwell put his affairs in order. Earlier this year, perhaps already in reaction to the growing atmosphere of uncertainty in high politics, he caused his clerks to draw up an elaborate catalogue of debts owing to him, augmented by his own memoranda extending up to June.38 On 12 July 1529, as the Blackfriars trial meandered through its illusory progress, he began the even more solemn task of making his will, though circumstances dictated that neither this nor any other will of his was ever put into effect. Its text is a precious and remarkably meticulous snapshot of his affairs and status at this time, although he added alterations over the next year or two as circumstances changed and his finances blossomed, before the much altered document became too out of step with events even to act as a template.39 Tragic new circumstances were the deaths of his two daughters, probably in late 1529, noted by his own erasures and substitutions. His wife was already dead by the time the neat and formal first text was first drawn up.
Two features of the will are worthy of comment: first what it says about his status in society, second about his religion. It is striking, despite the substantial sums of money that Cromwell felt confident of bestowing, how innocent the will is of reference to nobility, leading gentry or any character from high politics, despite the fact that for much of the previous decade his business had taken him to the edge of such circles. He did not even name Cardinal Wolsey as his supervisor, which may indicate that he was already wondering about his master’s long-term future: the supervisor, normally a person of equal or superior status to the testator, was in this case an obscure individual called Roger More, then servant in the King’s bakehouse and possibly a neighbour in Austin Friars, whom Cromwell did not even dignify with the honorific ‘Mr’.40 The most socially prominent person in the original will was another friend, John Croke, one of the Six Clerks of Chancery and also one of his colleagues in setting up Cardinal College Oxford for Wolsey.41 Otherwise, it is noticeable that even the slightly later folio of bequests Cromwell himself added mentioned only two people of gentry status: both clients of Wolsey from Suffolk, his friends Thomas Rush and Thomas Alvard, whom it was natural to have added, since they played such a vital part in his life in autumn 1529. That appendix folio also brought in Cromwell’s probable relative from Putney John Avery, but his office as Yeoman of the Bottle to the King does not trumpet courtly splendour. It all speaks of a man discreetly below stairs during this national crisis, and determined to stay there.
Second, there has been frequent remark on how traditional the religious reference of Cromwell’s will appears: it opens with an unusually florid commendation of his soul to God, Our Lady and the other saints, stipulates in the end seven (substituted for three) years of chantry prayers for his soul, and makes the sort of bequests to London’s five friaries and to poor prisoners in city gaols that one expects in the wills of particularly devout late medieval folk with plenty of spare cash. There are two feasible explanations. Was it a smokescreen for the benefit of London diocesan officials? When the future of Cromwell’s son Gregory and his little daughters was at stake, amid stirrings in the City about heresy, many involving his friends, with his tolerant master perhaps not around for much longer to protect him, the last thing would be to step demonstratively out of line in matters of public religious profession. Yet it is also possible that the shock of his wife’s death disposed Cromwell to think more kindly of traditional provision for souls: he remained a widower for life, rejecting friendly promptings for an immediate remarriage. Then followed the deaths of his daughters: his hopes of a family succession hung on the life of his son Gregory, who appears to have been physically small and maybe delicate as a boy. The prayers of priests and grateful recipients of charity might seem a reasonable investment.42 At a dangerous time, outward traditional piety would do him no harm.
This trimming of his convictions, or genuine change of devotional mood, seems to have continued in the next few anxious months. In a well-known story, Wolsey’s servant and biographer George Cavendish found his fellow-servant in the Great Chamber at Esher. It was All Hallows’ Day (1 November 1529), and Cromwell was ‘leaning in the great window, with a primer in his hand, saying of Our Lady Mattins, which had been [that is, would have been] a strange sight in him afore’.43 This reading in various manuscripts of Cavendish’s work was rejected by its nineteenth-century editor Samuel Singer as not making sense, and he preferred the alternative ‘which had been since a very strange sight’. Nevertheless, it is likely to be the better reading. Cavendish knew his man, and a portrayal of Cromwell as a precocious evangelical before this moment fits the story of discreet backing for dissenting religion we have seen in his dealings at Oxford and Poughley, and with Miles Coverdale (to look no further), in the mid- to late 1520s.*
In any case, that All Hallows’ Day Cromwell was in a highly emotional state, ‘the tears upon his cheeks’. Lamenting that he was ‘like to lose all that I have travailed for all the days of my life, for doing of my master true and diligent service’ and that he was ‘in disdain with most men for my master’s sake’, he told Cavendish of his resolve: ‘I intend, God willing, this afternoon, when my Lord hath dined, to ride to London, and so to the Court, where I will either make or mar, ere I come again.’ Cavendish goes on to record events later that same evening after dinner at Esher less frequently quoted than the story of the primer. Cromwell took his cue from Wolsey’s commendations of his gentlemen and yeomen to suggest that ‘he ought to consider their truth and loyal service.’ As Wolsey replied sadly that his resources to reward them had gone, Cromwell pointedly contrasted the lack of reward for these layfolk with generous financial rewards in spiritual promotions enjoyed by Wolsey’s fleet of chaplains: ‘yet hath your poor servants taken much more pains for you in one day than all your idle chaplains hath done in a year.’ Emotionally reacting to this challenge, the Cardinal summoned his household, clergy and layfolk and, on Cromwell’s prompting, backed by an initial contribution of cash from Cromwell’s own purse, forced his chaplains to hand over as much money as they could to his secular attendants. After this and prolonged ‘private communication’, Cromwell took his leave of his master and rode to London that night. Cavendish again repeated that vivid phrase (a favourite of Cromwell’s, he said), ‘to make or mar’.44
Cavendish, constructing a much more artful biographical narrative than is often acknowledged, would see the significance of the post-prandial confrontation at Esher that evening. It demo
nstrated both Cromwell’s loyalty to Wolsey and his antipathy towards the generality of clergy: not just the chaplains surrounding the Cardinal (plus those, like Gardiner, who had already left him) but also clerics, mostly bastions of traditional religion, who deeply resented Wolsey’s imperious ways and rejoiced as his power tottered – from old Bishop Nix of Norwich and Archbishop Warham of Canterbury downwards. This attitude shaped royal policy for a whole decade thereafter, as churchmen found themselves relieved of unprecedented amounts of wealth for the benefit of laypeople. Cromwell combined that quiet resentment with his evangelical convictions to craft a decade-long programme of revolution for Henry VIII’s kingdom.
Make or mar: Cromwell did not start out on All Hallows’ Day Dick Whittington-like primarily to forge a new career for himself, but to save his master’s. He was bound for London with a single purpose: to get himself securely placed as a burgess of the House of Commons in the new Parliament. Though Henry might well choose to use its proceedings to launch Wolsey’s legal destruction, summoning Parliament was a fairly obvious general move at this difficult time, and its purpose might change – indeed it did, for it began that momentous seven-year sequence of meetings which posterity has christened the ‘Reformation Parliament’ (not a term used in the Tudor period). Wolsey would feel it imperative to infiltrate representatives into the new assembly of the Commons, to have at least one or two voices to speak up for him against the weight of malice and propaganda. The Cardinal’s future is what his servant now set out to ‘make or mar’.
All Hallows’ Day 1529 came in the middle of Cromwell’s efforts to find himself a seat in Parliament, an enterprise further illuminated by a letter of that clever young servant Ralph Sadler, telling his master what he done so far to sort this out. The letter provides a different perspective from Cavendish’s account of that same day, but in fact they dovetail remarkably well. Commentators have thought that Sadler’s letter, written from London, compromises Cavendish’s vivid narrative of events on 1 November as he saw them, for Cavendish ends up by describing Sadler riding away with Cromwell from Esher for London. Actually there is no problem: Sadler obligingly told his reader the time of his letter – four o’clock in the afternoon – a most unusual specificity, showing how fast events were moving. That provided plenty of time for him to undertake (as he said he would) further negotiations to secure Cromwell’s final berth in Parliament: a work in progress. Sadler could then still decide to bring his news in person to Cromwell and Wolsey, pursuing the messenger carrying the letter he had written, on the 18-mile ride down to Esher via Kingston upon Thames. The return trip to London with Cromwell would have been a long day for him, but not impossible, given the importance of what he had done and good-quality horses such as Wolsey could provide.45 The intricacy and success of his day’s work is a testimony to the qualities Sadler shared with his master: energy, diplomatic skill and charm.
Sadler’s first meeting that day had been with Cromwell’s friend the royal Vice-Chamberlain Sir John Gage, who was acting as go-between with the Duke of Norfolk on Cromwell’s behalf. The mission here was to use the Duke himself as a go-between with the King, to secure royal permission for Cromwell’s effort to enter Parliament. His approval was vital, since Cromwell was so publicly marked down as Wolsey’s man (‘in disdain with most men for my master’s sake’ as he said to Cavendish that same day). The Duke conveyed the King’s approval, as long as ‘ye would order yourself in the said room according to such instructions as the said Duke of Norfolk shall give you from the King’. Norfolk proposed to convey those instructions to Cromwell the following day, and as a token of favour and good faith he returned a ring with a turquoise which Cromwell had sent him: one of a considerable collection of jewelled rings kept at Austin Friars, no doubt for just such negotiations.46* At the same time Sadler was talking to Sir Thomas Rush (already elected as one of the burgesses for Ipswich), who had proposed his stepson Thomas Alvard’s return for the much smaller Suffolk port of Orford. He was not yet certain whether Rush’s local influence could get Cromwell a place at Orford as well, but in any case he had a second option with Sir William Paulet.47
In fact neither Rush nor Sadler could know (at least at four o’clock that Monday) that Sir Thomas’s plans at Orford had been completely foiled. Neither Alvard nor Cromwell was to be elected. For all that Orford might seem to be in sleepy decline, the little Suffolk borough was at the apex of a fierce property contest in the aristocratic Willoughby family which had already drawn in Wolsey and Queen Katherine, and was now exploited by the East Anglian magnate Sir William Paston to secure the election of his eldest son Erasmus to Parliament. Sir William used his advantage as current county Sheriff (and therefore returning officer) to return Erasmus alongside a worthy of the borough by the name of Richard Hunt, a local hero in the dispute.48 The eventual answer to this hitch was to put into operation Sadler’s suggested Plan B: a seat in Wolsey’s portfolio of Parliamentary boroughs dependent on his diocese of Winchester, brokered by Paulet, who among other offices was Steward of the Bishopric of Winchester.
Cromwell ended up as a burgess for one of the most significant of those Winchester episcopal boroughs, Taunton in Somerset. Alvard had to wait until an Ipswich by-election of 1533 returned him to sit alongside his stepfather, who just happened to be Sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk that same year. It is unlikely that Cromwell had any previous acquaintance with Taunton, and remarkably the town is virtually absent from his correspondence both before and after his election there. One would have thought that in Cromwell’s years of power the townsmen might have called on their former burgess for favours, but they did not, which suggests that they had not much appreciated his labours as their representative. Indeed, he may not have been burgess at Taunton for any longer than necessary.49 Still, for the time being here was at last a result: speed and diplomacy were still of the essence if mishap was not to follow. Sadler emphasized to his master at four o’clock that ‘your friends would have you to tarry with my Lord there [that is, with Wolsey at Esher] as little as might be, for many considerations, as Mr Gage will show you, who desireth to speak with you.’ As Cavendish tells us, Cromwell followed Sadler’s suggestion that same night, in leaving for London.
Besides its information on the election, Sadler’s letter usefully illuminates the line-up of those at Court who could bring him success in his quest. The King knew of him as Wolsey’s servant, and could have been told by anyone of his previous Parliamentary experience. Over the years he might on some occasion have been admitted to the royal presence, but it was the Duke of Norfolk, personally familiar with Cromwell through the development of Cardinal College Ipswich, who approached the King about a Parliamentary seat. Norfolk’s later relationship with this presently obscure servant of the Cardinal cannot be described as friendship, but other courtiers were to remain vital in his path to power. Sir John Gage was there as adviser on the state of Court politics, only recently an agent in Cromwell’s first major acquisition of rural property; they were to remain on warm terms through the next decade despite their marked difference in religious outlook.50 Cromwell would have known Sir William Paulet both through his recent diocesan connection to Wolsey in Winchester and through his dealings for Wolsey in the Court of Wards, of which Paulet had been joint Master since 1526. In the final part of his letter, rounding up what he had learned of Court gossip from Gage, Sadler listed those gentlemen of Wolsey’s household whom the King had poached for his own service over the previous few days; they were headed by Thomas Alvard. Cromwell, by contrast, showed no sign yet of taking the road towards the King’s Court which so many of his colleagues had chosen over the previous months.
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Once Parliament was launched on 3 November, Cromwell could draw on all the valuable procedural experience and acquaintance gained in the Parliament of 1523. He would also be armed with the cheering knowledge that, the very same night that he left Esher to ‘make or mar’, the King in one of h
is frequent whims of favour had secretly pardoned the Cardinal by word of mouth, sending down Sir John Russell through pelting rain to Esher to convey the message; the promise of yet another turn in Wolsey’s fortunes.51 In any case, Cromwell had nothing to lose. As his old servant Stephen Vaughan had observed to him, writing from Antwerp the week before Parliament convened, ‘You are more hated for your master’s sake than for anything which I think you have wrongfully done against any man.’52
He was by no means totally isolated in the Commons. Among his fellow-MPs besides Thomas Rush was another on Sadler’s list of royal servants newly recruited from the Cardinal’s household, John Morris (or Mores; a burgess for Steyning in Sussex).53 In the right circumstances other MPs might pluck up courage to join them, after years of service to Wolsey or friendship with Cromwell. Most prominent were Sir John Gage himself, knight of the shire for Sussex, and the Surrey-based courtier Sir William Fitzwilliam, knight of the shire for that county, whose correspondence likewise reveals particular friendship with Cromwell well into the 1530s. Lower down the social scale, but even closer friends, were Richard Page and Cromwell’s relative George Lawson (both burgesses for York), Reynold Littleprow (Norwich), Paul Withipoll (London), Humphrey Wingfield (Yarmouth) and Wingfield’s brother-in-law Francis Hall (Grantham), and there were other possibilities.54 Maybe Cromwell could also be persuasive with the two burgesses for Salisbury, after years of dealings with the city as Town Clerk. Certainly one of them, Thomas Chaffyn, later reminded him of their business discussions in this session.55 A variety of colleagues in the Commons might therefore be willing to join in speaking for the Cardinal.
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