Henry VIII’s Reformation
This is the fourth of a series of articles describing formative movements and ideas in the history of the church. These were the crises of thought and conviction which brought us to where we are.
The previous article in this series examined the constituency for a ‘popular’ Reformation stemming from a native heretical tradition - Lollardy. Here, we will explore the official, political or ‘magisterial’ Reformation instigated by Henry VIII’s break from Rome by 1534 and assess its impact upon the religious life of Kent in the early sixteenth century. That the Reformation brought about a dramatic cultural revolution in English history cannot be overstated. For this reason it is appropriate to depict religious developments under the Tudors as a mere side-show to the story of Henry VIII’s marital affairs. It is also misleading to define the English Reformation as marking a theological halfway house between Catholicism and Protestantism. Beginning under Henry, but more fundamentally continuing apace during the brief reign of his son Edward VI (1547-53), the English church was severed from its medieval pastoral past, its formularies and liturgy finally being remodelled after the Swiss Reformation of Huldrych Zwingli’s Zurich and afterwards John Calvin’s Geneva.
By this it should not be taken to imply that religious change was inevitable or always welcomed when it arrived. The European Reformation commenced as a series of challenges to the ritual practices of the Western Church - ‘a works based religion’ - sustained by the notion that remission of sin could be sought through the fulfilment of pious actions. Reading the Bible, reformers viewed dependency upon works as impeding access to divine truth. Yet to speak of ‘Henry VIII’s Reformation’ is something of a misnomer since the king, who hated the principal Continental reformer Martin Luther - the feeling was mutual - was never converted to the central Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone (solafideism), the idea that all salvation was achieved by God’s grace conveyed through the divine gift of faith in Christ, regardless of any human endeavour in good works. This held little appeal for Henry, a monarch assured of his role as Supreme Head of the Church, the guardian of his subjects’ spiritual well-being. However, while the king, once a pious son of the Catholic Church, made for an unlikely evangelical reformer, his repudiation of the Papacy following his divorce from Catherine of Aragon, ensured that some restructuring of the royal outlook would occur. One outcome of the King’s Great Matter was a deep mistrust of the clergy’s claims to act as an intercessory priesthood. Closely allied to Henry’s emergent anticlericalism lay an increasing detachment from a belief in purgatory, an intermediary place between heaven and hell where souls were purged with the help of prayers offered by the living. Purgatory formed the linchpin of the Catholic devotional system. Henry’s abandonment of it in the Ten Articles of 1536, his first statement of doctrine, as being ‘uncertain by scripture’, held grave ramifications for traditional practices in England.
The first victims of the king’s rejection of aspects of his Catholic upbringing were the monasteries. These great conduits of the purgatory industry were primarily dissolved to furnish money for defence of the realm, although as one religious reformer Hugh Latimer observed, the founding of monasteries argued purgatory to be, ‘the putting off them down argueth it not to be’. Possibly this motive was uppermost in the mind of Henry’s vicar-general and ardent hatchet man Thomas Cromwell, responsible for the piecemeal liquidation of all religious houses from 1535 until 1540. Kent was no exception, the county’s 28 extant foundations - 22 monasteries and nunneries, along with 6 friaries - being coerced into surrendering by the end of 1539, their lands and property being put up for sale, their former inmates being pensioned off. For Cromwell, ending the monastic life in England meant denouncing the regular clergy as mischievous deceivers. In his rationale against cause célèbre for the vicar-general and his supporters was provided by Boxley Abbey with its miraculous ‘Rood of Grace’ fame for responding to penitents by moving its eyes and lips. Exposed as a fraud in January 1538, the rood was held up to public ridicule in London. The Boxley incident also set a convenient precedent for Cromwell’s injunctions of September 1538, which inveighed against the veneration of shrines and images and commanded every church to purchase ‘one book of the whole Bible’ in English, realising reformers’ concerns that Scripture be made accessible to all. Across Kent these orders prompted action to remove images from churches. A famous casualty of this spate of iconoclasm, a sure sign of Reformation on the move, was the shrine of St Thomas Becket, which as a lingering symbol of ecclesiastical resistance to the crown had to go.
The sudden loss of the monasteries and major pilgrimage sites caused irreparable damage to traditional Catholicism in Kent. On the other hand, the 1538 injunctions marked the high-tide of Protestant reform in Henrician England, which receded after Cromwell’s fall - ultimately for misjudging the king’s tastes in women with wife number four, Anne of Cleves. Henry retreated into his instinctive conservatism for the rest of his reign as traditionalists and evangelicals vied for royal attention. Faction fighting occurred in Kent, where despite the county’s early exposure to Continental reformed ideas, the Reformation remained a hotly contested affair, impeded by a predominantly conservative clergy and gentry linked to Archbishop William Warham - the force behind the heresy trials of 1511-12 and his protégé John Fisher of Rochester. In the early 1530s, they had backed the self-proclaimed mystic and critic of the royal divorce, Elizabeth Barton, the ‘Holy Maid of Kent’. In September 1543, remnants of this earlier group conspired to undermine the evangelical cause again by attempting to discredit Warham’s immediate successor, Thomas Cranmer, the most prominent patron of reform in Canterbury diocese. Cranmer is best remembered as the compiler of the Book of Common Prayer. Less well known is his work as a local diocesan governor, the result of a meteoric rise to the [pg11]primacy which owed much to his attachment - along with Thomas Cromwell - to the circle of evangelicals around Anne Boleyn. He remained Henry's faithful if not entirely uncritical servant thereafter. Because of this the king took against the manoeuvres by leading traditionalists, including members of the Canterbury cathedral chapter during the so-called ‘Prebendaries Plot’, to label the Archbishop a heretic. Royal reaction against conservatives enabled evangelicals to seize the initiative at Henry's death in 1547, the concept of a national church independent of Rome became credible and concrete.
Henrician ecclesiastical policy had the negative effect of sweeping away familiar markings on the Catholic landscape without laying the foundations for a new Protestant faith. This changed with the accession of his son, the boy king Edward VI. If Henry was content to draw parallels between himself and King David, Edward, as the recipient of a forwardly evangelical education, came to be identified with the Old Testament figures of Josiah and Solomon, the scourge of idols and the builder of the Temple respectively. The first Parliament of the new reign, convened by the king’s uncle Edward Seymour, Protector Somerset, finalised the assault on purgatory by abolishing chantries (39 in Kent) and religious fraternities. With the closure of these mutual-aid societies for the afterlife, established for the purpose of providing masses for the souls of past donors, the Edwardian regime then embarked on a wider programme to dismantle the mass itself. Reformers disliked the mass for several reasons. To begin with, the rites were conducted in Latin, which they argued communicants could not understand. They also maintained that the celebration was theologically unsound. In particular, ‘transubstantiation’, the idea that the bread and wine at the moment of consecration were transformed into the body and blood of Christ, was questioned on the grounds that the priest performed a good work by making a sacrificial offering to the Father. Cranmer in consultation with Peter Martyr and Martin Bucer – Continental reformers installed as divinity professors at Oxford and Cambridge – rejected notions of a real or corporal presence in the eucharist. Instead, he rapidly came to advance a memorial view of the sacrament whereby the communion service became a thanksgiving, the bread and wine remaining as visible signs of the Lord's Supper and tokens of the believer’s faith since in Cranmer’s own words ‘only the faithful consume the body of Christ…with the heart, not with the teeth’, a position still held by the Church of England.
Such thinking, more aligned to the Swiss than the German Lutheran Reformation, lay at the heart of the Archbishop’s designs for an English liturgy published in 1549. Consequently, the first Prayer Book’s more far-reaching successor of 1552, backed by Somerset’s usurper John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, omitted any reference to the consecration of the elements by the celebrant, who was to be regarded as a teaching pastor rather than a priest. In 1550, to reinforce the new liturgy, stone altars were replaced by wooden communion tables, the emphasis being placed upon ‘supper’ rather than ‘sacrifice’. Within the space of a few years, the framework of a Protestant settlement was codified in the Forty Two Articles of 1553, which by including statements of unconditional predestination - the idea that God had divided the world into the elect and reprobate - provided the touchstone for English Protestant orthodoxy down to the seventeenth century. Following the brief interlude of Queen Mary’s reign (1553-58), the Edwardian liturgy and formularies were resurrected, albeit in a crystallised form, under Elizabeth.
So far it remains to be seen how religious change was received by the people of Kent, a difficult issue to fathom since sources allowing for an accurate quantification of religious opinion do not exist for the Tudor period. A strong body of conservative opinion in Kent has already been noted. On the other hand, it is possible to uncover tangible links between the county’s Lollard legacy and the spread of reformed beliefs, reflected perhaps in the proportionally high number of 66 Kentish martydoms under Mary, with only the capital witnessing more burnings. Whether all dissenters from the Marian church were convinced Edwardian Protestants or heretics in a more fundamental sense is not easy to determine. At the same time, the tight ecclesiastical control exercised locally by energetic Catholic officials such as Archdeacon Nicholas Harpsfield may explain much. However, a large proportion, 12 percent of the 2,443 pre-1558 reformers identified by John Fines, originated from Kent. Similarly, the county’s reputation as a hotbed for reformed ideas was assured when the Protestant and former Edwardian sheriff, Sir Thomas Wyatt of Allington, was able to muster around 3,000 Kentish followers for his abortive uprising to depose Mary in favour of her half-sister Elizabeth in 1554.
Wyatt’s rebellion was occasioned by Mary’s marriage to Philip of Spain. In pitching for support, Wyatt made a direct appeal to a sense of English patriotism against a perceived Spanish and Catholic threat, a sentiment with prescience for a key aspect of mainstream Protestantism as it developed in Elizabeth’s reign. Yet hostility towards ‘Popery’ formed part of the process whereby the four founding fathers wrenched the English church from its medieval moorings. By equipping the church with a reformed liturgy conveying a memorialist view of the eucharist and a formulary emphasising predestinarian teaching, Edwardian reformers sought theological discontinuity from the past. Priests were to serve as pastors, preaching the Gospel and the divine law to society. Parish church interiors were purged of ‘superstitious’ sacred imagery along with other offending physical objects of traditional worship, most conspicuously the altar. The old devotional world was systematically swept away. For this reason, the Edwardian Reformation should be viewed as a religious revolution conducted without reference to a moderating spirit of ‘Anglicanism’, the later intellectual origins of which await treatment in future editions of this newsletter.