Book Review: Dermot Fenlon's Study of Cardinal Pole and the Reformation

This book has been a challenge and a delight to read. A challenge because of the very careful research and scholarship Fenlon conducted requiring careful reading and attention, and a delight because he was a wonderful writer, thus making it a compelling read. As an example of the latter, here is his opening description of Reginald Pole's eventful life in the Preface:

Reginald Pole is a figure who slips into two overlapping historical perspectives. The first opens upon the history of Tudor England, the second upon that of the European Counter Reformation. In England, Henry VIII initiated two conflicting movements in the religious life of his country. The first began with his book on the sacraments and his attack on the Reformation, in the service of which he enlisted More and Fisher. The second began with his repudiation of papal jurisdiction, in the course of which he executed, among others, More and Fisher. The protagonists of the first movement became the victims of the second: they found a hagiographer in Reginald Pole. . . . (ix)

I could go to second the second paragraph of that Preface, but I think you get the idea of Fenlon's concision and balance in composition.

Several years ago, I listened to and commented upon a lecture by Eamon Duffy on Reginald Cardinal Pole in which Duffy addressed the need for a new biography of Pole (which this book is not: neither new nor a biography), in spite of Thomas F. Mayer's Reginald Pole: Prince and Prophet, recently published by Cambridge University Press in 2000 and available in paperback. In my 2019 post, I asked:

So why does Duffy want a new biography--or perhaps one that's more accessible (price!)--than this recent effort?

Duffy's main issue is that Mayer has no sympathy for his subject: he did not like Reginald Cardinal Pole and Duffy says it shows: in fact, Duffy states, Mayer "loathed Pole"! Duffy also cites Mayer's entry for Pole in the new Dictionary of National Biography, noting the same problem.

Duffy believes that Reginald Pole was "a holy man; a troubled man" and that Mayer judges him too harshly. Mayer thought he was a hypocrite and a sham! Duffy opines that Mayer's biography of Pole is "dense" and "elusive" . . . 

The reason I bring this point up is that Fenlon is sympathetic to Pole and his circumstances. He does acknowledge Pole's reticence and reserve, his taciturnity and the silence that seemed to indicate his consent to what others were saying, but Fenlon appreciates Pole's situation. He notes that reserve and seeming compliance with Henry VIII's Great Matter, when Pole was asked to help find support for Henry's point of view and finally asked, like More, to be exempted from this process on the grounds of conscience. Finally, he had to respond after the executions of More and Fisher, to what Henry VIII had done to the Unity of Church. His family was in danger after he wrote that letter to Henry, but so was Pole, even though he was on the Continent. The same situation--and response from Pole--occurs when he is asked to help lead the Council of Trent while he holds a view of personal Justification and Salvation that is similar to Martin Luther's at the same that he wants to maintain the Unity of Church and his own unity with the Church in all (other) ways. He stays silent until he has to speak.

Fenlon carefully guides the reader through the Italian and Roman landscape of the Reformation era (responding to calls for curial and Church reform and examining Lutheran objections) and the Counter-Reformation era (after it was clear to Pole and others that reunion with the Lutheran and Calvinist (etc) dissenters was impossible. Then Pole assents to the Catholic doctrine of Justification as defined by the Council of Trent. 

As I read Fenlon's recounting of this long crisis in Pole's life, I thought of Philip Hughes's description of Pole's character in Rome and the Counter-Reformation in England:

Hughes demonstrates that for all [Pole's] knowledge and love of Jesus and His Church, he lacked "irascible passion"; he was too ready to be a victim--and that he had "a temperament that instinctively turned from the hard, unpleasant realities of a problem to the ideal way in which it ought to be solved." (p. 43) Although Pole was a man of action and ready to promote reform and renewal, Hughes claims that he lacked audacity: he was not bold and he could not be stirred to righteous anger. Therefore, he wasn't able to take crucial action in a crisis. 

If Pole was "too ready to be a victim" he certainly became a victim of Pope Paul IV, the former Cardinal Carafa. On page 249 Fenlon describes the future pope's tendency to suspicion:

Suspicion, it would seem, was endemic to Carafa's mind. It could be forgotten for a while in a violent upsurge of emotional generosity: but under impulse it would start smoldering again. His temperament was absolute: equivocation seemed to him the mark of treachery.

Fenlon notes that as a Cardinal, Carafa could be persuaded to calm down and reconsider his suspicion of another. But as pope, "charged with the responsibility of protecting Christendom" (pp. 249-250), he could not be moved. Fortunately for Pole, neither could Queen Mary I, who refused to let Pole return to Rome to face the Inquisition, so that he remained her Archbishop of Canterbury, trying to re-establish Catholicism in England.

A most rewarding read; of course I bought my copy from a second-hand bookseller. It came to me unmarked and pristine. I've made my usual notations and the book kind of curled on its spine. I'm searching for a copy of Fenlon's paper, "The Counter Reformation and the Realisation of 'Utopia'" in Historical Studies: Papers Read in the Ninth Conference of Irish Historians, ed. J. Barry, 9 (Dublin, 1973).