Page:Dictionary of National Biography volume 13.djvu/202

 will, Cromwell's master, Wolsey, fell into disgrace. The great seal was taken from him on 17 Oct., and Cromwell was in serious anxiety lest his own fortunes should be involved in his master's ruin. The cardinal was ordered for a time to withdraw to Esher, or Asher, as the name was then written, and thither Cromwell followed him. He is commonly supposed to have shown a most devoted attachment to his old master in trouble, and as this view is set forth in Shakespeare, it is of course indelible. Nevertheless, the account of his conduct at this time given in Cavendish's life of Wolsey does not suggest an altogether disinterested attachment. ‘It chanced me,’ says the writer, ‘upon All-Hallow'n day to come into the great chamber at Asher in the morning to give mine attendance, where I found Master Cromwell leaning in the great window, with a primer in his hand, saying of Our Lady's mattins, which had been since a very strange sight. He prayed not more earnestly than the tears distilled from his eyes. Whom I bade good-morrow, and with that I perceived the tears upon his cheeks. To whom I said, “Why, Master Cromwell, what meaneth all this your sorrow? Is my lord in any danger for whom ye lament thus? or is it for any loss that ye have sustained by any misadventure?” “Nay, nay,” quoth he, “it is my unhappy adventure, which am like to lose all I have travailed for all the days of my life for doing of my master true and diligent service.” “Why, Sir,” quoth I, “I trust ye be too wise to commit anything by my lord's commandment otherwise than ye might do of right, whereof ye have any cause to doubt loss of your goods.” “Well, well,” quoth he, “I cannot tell; but all things I see before mine eyes is as it is taken; and this I understand right well that I am in disdain with most men for my master's sake, and surely without just cause. Howbeit, an ill name once gotten will not lightly be put away. I never had any promotion by my lord to the increase of my living. And thus much will I say to you, that 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, or I come again”’ (, Life of Wolsey, ed. Singer, 1825, i. 192–4).

It was the crisis of his fortune and the touchstone of his character. Simple-minded Cavendish could not believe that so astute a lawyer could have done anything in his master's service to endanger forfeiture of his own goods. But his old servant, Stephen Vaughan, then at Antwerp, was anxious about Cromwell's future fortunes also, though he trusted his ‘truth and wisdom’ would preserve him from danger. ‘You are more hated,’ he wrote to Cromwell, ‘for your master's sake, than for anything which I think you have wrongfully done against any man’ (Calendar, No. 6036). Perhaps so; but Cromwell possibly did not like to bear the sole responsibility of his acts in suppressing the small monasteries. He had reasons enough for wishing to go to court and explain his conduct, or make friends to shield him there. That he was in very bad odour for what he had done at Ipswich is evident from the expressions used by his fellow-labourer Thomas Russhe, who wrote to him at this very time: ‘You would be astonished at the lies told of you and me in these parts’ (ib. No. 6110). And we are informed by Cardinal Pole, who was then in London, and heard what people said, that it was commonly reported he had been sent to prison, and would be duly punished for his offences. It is true that he stood by Wolsey in his hour of need, but that hour was also his own. Wolsey was almost more distressed for his colleges than for himself, knowing how easily their possessions might be confiscated (as most of them were) on the pretext of his own attainder. Cromwell was interested to prevent inquiry into the complaints regarding the suppression of the monasteries for their endowment. Besides, Cromwell was known at court simply as Wolsey's dependent, and as such he had no reason to look for favour from the party of Norfolk and the Boleyns, who were now omnipotent. But he knew the ways of the world. He advised his old master to conciliate his enemies with pensions, and drafts still remain in his handwriting of grants to be made by Wolsey to Lord Rochford, Anne Boleyn's brother, of annuities out of his bishopric of Winchester and abbey of St. Albans (ib. Nos. 6115, 6181). He also made those nobles his friends by getting Wolsey's grants to them made legal and confirmed by the king—at the expense, of course, of the cardinal's bishoprics and colleges (, i. 228–9). But he likewise relieved the cardinal's own necessities when, being compelled to dismiss his large retinue, he had not even the means to pay them the wages due to them, by getting up a subscription among the chaplains who had been promoted by Wolsey's liberality, and he gave 5l. himself towards a fund for the expenses of his servants.

But the chief service he did to Wolsey was when ‘the boke’ (or bill) of articles against the cardinal had been passed through the House of Lords and was sent down to the