Read The King's Cardinal: The Rise and Fall of Thomas Wolsey (Pimlico) Online
Authors: Peter Gwyn
Irritating also must have been his failure once again, during 1514, to have his right to the office of great constable confirmed. This second attempt, involving lengthy legal proceedings before the royal Council, was much more serious than the first. Buckingham claimed that the office was hereditary, being vested in three estates that had been in the Staffords’ possession for almost a hundred years; or rather two estates, for the third was now held by the Crown. This, of course, weakened his case in law. Of more political consequence was the fact that all three estates formed part of the Bohun inheritance. Ever since Henry
IV
’s marriage to one of the Bohun heiresses, this inheritance had caused difficulties between the Stafford family and successive kings of England. The other heiress had married Thomas Woodstock duke of Gloucester, and their daughter and heir had married first the 3rd and second the 5th earl of Stafford, Buckingham’s great-great-grandfather. Thus, the emphasis placed on the Bohun inheritance recalled one strand of the Stafford family’s claim to the throne; and if one strand, why not the other, which in a Tudor context was probably the more serious? Buckingham’s grandfather had married a Margaret Beaufort, not the mother of Henry
VII
, but her cousin. Given the two strands, Buckingham’s claim to the throne was no worse than Henry
VIII
’s, and though it is possible to exaggerate the Tudor neurosis about potential rivals, the fact that Buckingham’s claim to the great constableship also emphasized his royal connection probably did not greatly please the king. However, of greater concern
was Henry’s determination not to allow any one family to establish an hereditary claim to such a prestigious office. It is interesting, given the suspicion that Tudor judges never went against the interests of the Crown, that in this case they did not entirely take Henry’s view. They found that Buckingham did have a legitimate claim to the office, though at the same time declaring that the Crown had an equal right not to make use of his services. It was a compromise almost designed to cause the maximum irritation to Buckingham. In effect he had won the case, but was to be denied the fruits of victory. This can only have confirmed his probably mistaken view that the Tudors were determined to treat him unfairly.
38
The most surprising thing about Buckingham’s attempt to become hereditary great constable is that he made it at all. It is true that Tudor noblemen and gentry were second to none in prosecuting any legal claim, but to do so in a matter which so closely concerned the Crown indicated a great lack of tact and political sensitivity. So too, admittedly in a matter of less importance, did his refusal to take part in a joust, this probably in 1517.
39
It may be that the excuses he gave were valid. He was out of practice, and anyway he had vowed that he would never again run against the king, which in the circumstances was rather convenient because he had been asked to do just that. However, if Henry would allow him to take part on his side, he was willing to overlook his own lack of preparation – which suggests that it had only ever been an excuse. And despite the compliment implied in this concession, his answer did amount to a refusal, and one that strengthens the impression that his strenuous efforts to obtain the office of great constable also suggest: that he wanted, even expected, his relationship with Henry to be conducted on his own terms. If this impression is correct, it explains why the relationship was never good. Henry was not a man to stand on ceremony. He had great charm and an easy manner with those about him; the famous episode in More’s garden at Chelsea in which the bluff King Hal was to be seen walking up and down with his arm around his royal servant and friend is evidence of this.
40
No ceremony, but as More, and indeed Wolsey, knew all to well, he never forgot that he was king, and had no intention of putting up with other people’s conditions if he could possibly help it.
For a nobleman of his high rank and wealth, Buckingham was not often at court. His visit to Henry’s makeshift court at Abingdon in the spring of 1518 has already been discussed: there were obviously some worries about him at that time, but nevertheless he went away with royal gifts of a ‘goodly courser, a rich gown, a like jacket, doublet, and hose’.
41
Two years previously he had also been present at court, and apparently in good favour with the king. In fact he turned up on most occasions when he ought to have done or when he had particular reason for doing so, but no more than that. He was present in October 1518 for the signing of the Treaty of London,
42
which, if he did suffer from francophobia, he cannot have
enjoyed any more than his attendance at the Field of Cloth of Gold. More to his taste may have been the expedition to France in 1513, though by all accounts he did not play a very distinguished part.
43
It is important to get the balance right. Apart from the episode concerning Buckingham’s sister in 1510, there appears to have been no open quarrel between the king and premier senior duke, no obvious animosity, no deliberate slights; only a certain wariness, a certain unease, a refusal by Henry to take Buckingham into his confidence, and an unwillingness on Buckingham’s part to try very hard to obtain that confidence. That part of Buckingham at any rate did wish to play a role commensurate with his wealth and standing seems clear. Why otherwise would he have wished to become great constable? Why otherwise would he have complained that his services to the Crown were not well rewarded, while all the royal favours went to mere ‘boys’?
44
But the point is that the other half of Buckingham was not prepared to perform the services without which there would be no rewards.
The suggestion being made here is that Buckingham was not excluded from power and influence by a king with an ingrained hostility towards all noblemen, particularly those with a claim to the throne. All the indications are that Henry
VIII
got on very well with his nobility, and was prepared to make extensive use of those who were willing and able to do him service. Two who did possess these qualifications were the 2nd and 3rd dukes of Norfolk. Both held major offices of state, both were given crucial military commands, and were in every respect indispensable servants of the Crown. Yet, as is well known, their family had been the most loyal supporters of the Yorkist regime, the 2nd duke’s father dying on the field of Bosworth, fighting for Richard
III
. If an excuse was needed not to make use of the family, there was none better. Nor did it matter if a nobleman possessed a claim to the throne. One of Henry’s great favourites throughout the 1520s was Henry Courtenay earl of Devon, who in 1525 he created marquess of Exeter. Yet Courtenay was a grandson of Edward
IV
. It was not who you were by birth that mattered to Henry, though he preferred it if you were well bred, but what your attitude to him was.
45
This was something that Buckingham never made up his mind about. He was obviously a proud man with something of a temper. When asked in April 1521 by Francis
I
what the duke was like, the English ambassador to France replied that he was ‘a high-minded man that were in a rage’, which Francis, with no doubt some eye to the situation, said squared with his own assessment of him as a man ‘so full of choler that there was nothing could content him’.
46
In addition, Buckingham was determined to play an imposing role on whatever stage he appeared; hence that lavish expenditure on his entertainment of the court at Penshurst in 1519, and his even more lavish expenditure on himself and his retinue at the Field of Cloth of Gold. But of real service – of, for instance, regular attendance at Council meetings
47
– there was very little, and it does not appear to have been Henry who deliberately prevented him from performing it. The
impression is rather of a man too proud to involve himself in the real business of government because to do so would mean working with, and even under, people – amongst whom he included Wolsey, and came perhaps to include Henry himself – when what he wanted was to be on top. At the very least he seems to have thought that the Tudors owed him something, and when they failed to meet his expectations he turned in upon himself, concentrating his energies on overhauling his estates and rebuilding Thornbury Castle in the finest manner possible.
48
There were no rivals, only monks who could foretell the future and fuel his dreams of what might be if Henry
VIII
was no longer king of England.
But what of Buckingham’s relationship with Wolsey? If the evidence presented at Buckingham’s trial is to be accepted, then it must also be accepted that Buckingham did resent Wolsey’s power and influence with the king. There is, however, no evidence that Wolsey returned this resentment, and, as will be shown shortly, there is no good reason why he should have done. Furthermore, as regards their dealings with one another there is no evidence of great ill-will – if anything, rather the opposite. For instance, when Buckingham was anxious not to take part in the royal joust it was to Wolsey he wrote in his ultimately successful efforts to get his way, at the same time making it clear that he was extremely grateful to Wolsey for all he had done to further his cause on previous occasions. Of course, too much should not be made of this; Wolsey’s help was worth a few compliments. But at least, on the evidence of this letter alone, relations were not so bad that there was no communication between the two men.
49
Indeed, on one matter it is known that they worked quite closely together. On his visit to court in May 1516 Buckingham had had a long conversation with Sir Richard Sacheverell, during the course of which Sacheverell had floated an idea, put to him by Wolsey only the night before – with the intention no doubt that it would be passed on
50
– that it was high time that Buckingham brought his son to court. In itself the idea is of some interest because it rather confirms the impression that Buckingham was reluctant to become too closely involved with the Crown. His son was by this time fifteen, and it would have been very usual for the son of a leading nobleman to serve some apprenticeship in the royal household. And that he raised the matter is further evidence of Wolsey’s inclination to give good advice to Buckingham: if the son’s appearance was delayed too long, Henry would begin to wonder why.
Buckingham’s explanation was that he considered the court too risky a place for the health of an only son, especially because of the great danger of contracting the plague there. Only when his son was married and had an heir would it be all right for him to appear. The rather lame explanation elicited the inevitable inquiry – which may have been Buckingham’s intention – about what marriage plans had been made for the boy. When the duke said none, Wolsey had suggested a daughter of the countess of Salisbury. It is quite an interesting choice. The countess was a daughter of the duke of Clarence and thus a niece of Edward
IV
. Such a marriage could only
strengthen the Stafford claim to the throne, which, if there was any worry about it, makes Wolsey’s suggestion extremely foolish. In fact, it does not look as if there was, for two years later the marriage took place.
51
What did matter was that Buckingham’s son married someone of whom Henry approved, and although in the late 1530s the countess of Salisbury’s family was to fall foul of him, in 1516 it was very much in favour. No less so was the earl of Shrewsbury, lord high steward and a most conscientious servant of the Crown.
52
It was for this reason that when Buckingham foresaw difficulties concerning Wolsey’s first proposal, Wolsey had suggested a Talbot match as an alternative. In making these proposals, Wolsey was doing nothing unusual. The Crown had always taken an interest in the marriages of its leading subjects, and Wolsey, as Henry’s chief minister, was performing a very traditional role – and, it should be said, doing it with his customary tact. There was no suggestion of dictating to Buckingham; here, simply, was an offer to make the Crown’s good offices available if they were required, with admittedly the implication that they would only be made available if the marriage met with royal approval. And that Wolsey did not offend Buckingham is suggested by the fact that he was very shortly to take up Wolsey’s first proposal and bring it to a successful conclusion.
There was, however, an area that provided possibilities for conflict between Buckingham and Wolsey, and indeed between Buckingham and the Crown, and this was the law. No one was more obsessed with his legal rights than the duke, and whether upholding his claims to property, chasing up unpaid debts or suing his own officials for failure to carry out their duties, he was constantly asserting them. Between 1498 and 1521 he brought 128 separate actions before the courts of King’s Bench and Common Pleas, while 43 additional cases were brought on his behalf by his senior officials.
53
With these cases Wolsey was not involved; neither does the frequency with which Buckingham went to law suggest that he felt that the common law courts were biased against him. But when Buckingham’s legal affairs came before the king’s Council sitting in Star Chamber, then Wolsey was involved – and the cases did not always go Buckingham’s way. For instance, it seems likely that Star Chamber upheld John Russell’s claim that his former master had wrongfully seized his estates; at any rate the Crown never accepted that Russell had gone in for large-scale embezzlement – the alleged justification for the duke’s action – for otherwise it would hardly have appointed him to the Council in the Marches of Wales.
54
On another occasion Wolsey intervened directly to ensure that one of Buckingham’s Welsh marcher tenants was ‘indifferently handled and truly according to his desire, setting apart all rancour, malice or partiality, and without delays unreasonable’.
55
This meant that he should not be tried before Buckingham’s own officials, and demonstrates Wolsey’s well-known concern for ‘indifferent justice’ – a concern which might not endear him to noblemen determined, and perhaps even accustomed, to get their own way in legal matters.