this was called; and accordingly, he joined it with ardour.

Meanwhile the duke of Bourbon had got possession of the Milanese; and finding that exhausted country unable to support his troops, he formed the bold design of leading them against Rome, and was killed as he was planting a scaling ladder againt the walls of that city. But his soldiers, rather enraged than discouraged by his death, mounted to the assault, forced their way sword in hand, and subjected, from their brutality, the ancient capital of Italy to greater calamities than she had ever endured from the northern barbarians. The pope, who had trusted for protection to the sacredness of his character, was taken captive; and found his dignity insulted by the Spanish soldiers.

A. D.

a

A few days before the sack of Rome, 1527. Henry and Francis had concluded treaty at Westminster, in which, besides renewing former alliances, they agreed to send ambassadors to Charles, requiring him to accept of two millions of crowns, as the ransom of the French princes, and to repay the money borrowed from Henry; and, in case of refusal, the ambassadors, attended by heralds, were ordered to denounce war against him, which was to be carried on in the Low-Countries. But no sooner did the monarchs receive intelligence of Bourbon's enterprise, than they changed, by a new treaty, the scene of the projected war, from the Netherlands to Italy; and hearing of the pope's captivity, they were farther stimulated to attempt restoring him to liberty. Wolsey himself crossed the sea, in order to have an interview with Fran

cis, and to concert measures for that purpose; displaying on this occasion, all that grandeur and magnificence with which he was so much intoxicated. The French monarch made a journey as far as Amiens to meet him, and even advanced some miles from the town, the more to honour his reception. It was here stipulated, that the duke of Orleans should espouse the princess Mary; and as the emperor seemed to be taking some steps towards assembling a general council, the two monarchs agreed not to acknowledge it.

The more to cement the union between these princes, a new treaty was some time after concluded at London; in which Henry agreed finally to renounce all claims to the crown of France; claims which might now indeed be deemed chimerical, but which had often been fatal to the tranquillity of both countries. As a return for this concession, Francis bound himself and his successors to pay for ever, fifty thousand crowns a year, to Henry and his successors; and that greater solemnity might be given to this compact, it was agreed that the parliaments and great nobility of both kingdoms should give their assent to it. Thus, the terror of the emperor's greatness had extinguished the ancient animosity between the rival nations; and Spain, during more than a century, became the chief object of jealousy to the English.

This union, however, between France and England, was not able to bend the emperors and from the prosecution of the war, Henry's attention was in some measure withdrawn to his domestic situation. His marriage with Catherine of Arragon, his brother's widow, had not passed without scruple; the prejudices of the people were in general bent against a conjugal union between such near relations; and the doubts which had arose in the mind of Henry were strengthened by several extrinsic circum

stances.

The queen was older than the king by no less than six years; and the decay of her beauty, together with particular infirmities and diseases, had contributed, notwithstanding her blameless character and deportment, to render her person unacceptable to him. Though she had borne him several children, they all died in early infancy, except one daughter; and he was the more struck with this misfortune, because the curse of being childless is the very threatening contained in the Mosaical law against those who espouse their brother's widow. The succession too of the crown was a consideration that occurred to every one, whenever the lawfulness of Henry's marriage was called in question; and it was apprehended, that if doubts of Mary's legitimacy concurred with the weakness of her sex, the king of Scots, the next heir, would advance his pretensions, and might throw the kingdom into confusion. Thus the king was impelled, both by his private passions, and by motives of public interest, to seek the dissolution of his inauspicious, and, as it was esteemed, unlawful marriage with Catherine.

The archbishop of Canterbury, and his brethren, with the exception of the bishop of Rochester, pronounced the king's marriage unlawful; Wolsey also fortified the scruples of his master; but passion needed not any other prompter or motive than itself.

Anne Boleyn, who lately appeared at court, in the quality of maid of honour to the queen, had acquired an entire ascendant over Henry's affections. This young lady, whose grandeur and misfortunes have rendered her so celebrated, was daughter of sir Thomas Boleyn, who had been employed by the king in several embassies, and who was allied to all the principal nobility in the kingdom. Henry's scruples or aversion had for some time made him break off all conjugal commerce with the queen; but as he still supported an intercourse of civility and friendship with her, he had occasion, in the frequent visits which he paid her, to observe the beauty, the youth, the charms of Anne Boleyn. Finding the accomplishments of her mind no wise inferior to her exterior graces, and that she was not to be won on easier terms, he soon conceived the design of raising her to the throne; and as every motive of inclination and policy seemed thus to concur in making the king desirous of a divorce from Catherine, be resolved to make application to pope Clement, to whom he dispatched Knight, his secretary, for this express purpose. Knight found the pope, who was still in the hands of the emperor, favour- A. D. ably disposed; and when Clement recovered his liberty, he confirmed his professions, and granted a commission, to try the validity of the marriage, in which cardinal Campeggio was joined with Wolsey; but the former was instructed to defer the decision by the most artful delays. The harangue of the queen was pathetic and affecting; she refused to answer the citation of the legates; she observed, she had been the wife of Henry during twenty years,

1528.

and would appeal to himself, whether her affectionate submission to his will had not merited better treatment; and the king, while he urged again his scruples, was obliged to confess that she had ever been a dutiful and affectionate wife.

The trial had now been spun out for a considerable period; and the king was every day in expectation of a sentence in his favour; when the menaces and promises of Charles proved successful; and Clement, in compliance, as he affected, of the queen's appeal, adjourned the cause to his own personal judgment at Rome.

Wolsey had long foreseen the failure, as the forerunner of his ruin; for though he had employed himself with assiduity to bring the suit to an happy issue, he knew the impatience of Henry's temper would not brook disappointment, or protracted delay. Influenced by Anne Boleyn and his own passions, the king now determined to sink the cardinal with a motion almost as precipitate as he had formerly employed in his elevation. The dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk were sent to require the great seal from him, which was delivered to sir Thomas More. All his furniture and plate were seized ; and he was ordered to retire to Esher, a country-seat which he possessed near Hampton-court.

Henry, however, seemed willing, during some time, to intermit the blows which overwhelmed him. He granted him his protection, and left him in possession of the sees of York and Winchester. He even sent him a gracious message, accompanied with a ring, as a testimony of his affection Wolsey, who was on horseback when the messenger met him, immediately alighted;