Fox's Book of Martyrs
Chapter XVI
The premature death
of that celebrated young monarch, Edward VI, occasioned the most extraordinary
and wonderful occurrences, which had ever existed from the times of our blessed
Lord and Savior's incarnation in human shape. This melancholy event became
speedily a subject of general regret. The succession to the British throne was soon made a matter of contention; and the scenes which
ensued were a demonstration of the serious affliction in which the kingdom was
involved. As his loss to the nation was more and more
unfolded, the remembrance of his government was more and more
the basis of grateful recollection. The very awful prospect, which was soon presented to the friends of Edward's
administration, under the direction of his counsellors and servants, was a
contemplation which the reflecting mind was compelled
to regard with most alarming apprehensions. The rapid approaches which were made towards a total reversion of the proceedings of
the young king's reign, denoted the advances which were thereby represented to an entire resolution in the
management of public affairs both in Church and state.
Alarmed
for the condition in which the kingdom was likely to be involved by the king's
death, an endeavor to prevent the consequences, which were but too plainly
foreseen, was productive of the most serious and fatal effects. The king, in
his long and lingering affliction, was induced to make a will, by which he
bequeathed the English crown to Lady Jane, the daughter of the duke of Suffolk,
who had been married to Lord Guilford, the son of the duke of Northumberland,
and was the granddaughter of the second sister of King Henry, by Charles, duke
of Suffolk. By this will, the succession of Mary and Elizabeth, his two
sisters, was entirely superseded, from an apprehension
of the returning system of popery; and the king's council, with the chief of
the nobility, the lord-mayor of the city of London, and almost
all the judges and the principal lawyers of the realm, subscribed their
names to this regulation, as a sanction to the measure. Lord Chief Justice
Hale, though a true Protestant and an upright judge, alone declined to unite
his name in favor of the Lady Jane, because he had already signified his
opinion that Mary was entitled to assume the reins of
government. Others objected to Mary's being placed on
the throne, on account of their fears that she might marry a foreigner,
and thereby bring the crown into considerable danger. Her partiality to
popery also left little doubt on the minds of any, that she would be induced to
revive the dormant interests of the pope, and change the religion which had
been used both in the days of her father, King Henry, and in those of her
brother Edward: for in all his time she had manifested the greatest
stubbornness and inflexibility of temper, as must be obvious from her letter to
the lords of the council, whereby she put in her claim to the crown, on her
brother's decease.
When
this happened, the nobles, who had associated to prevent Mary's succession, and
had been instrumental in promoting, and, perhaps, advising
the measures of Edward, speedily proceeded to proclaim Lady Jane Gray, to be
queen of England, in the city of London and various other populous cities of
the realm. Though young, she possessed talents of a very superior nature, and
her improvements under a most excellent tutor had given her many
very great advantages.
Her
reign was of only five days' continuance, for Mary, having succeeded by false
promises in obtaining the crown, speedily commenced the execution of her avowed
intention of extirpating and burning every Protestant. She was
crowned at Westminster in the usual form, and her elevation was the
signal for the commencement of the bloody persecution which followed.
Having
obtained the sword of authority, she was not sparing in its exercise. The
supporters of Lady Jane Gray were destined to feel its force. The duke of
Northumberland was the first who experienced her savage resentment. Within a
month after his confinement in the Tower, he was condemned,
and brought to the scaffold, to suffer as a traitor. From his varied crimes,
resulting out of a sordid and inordinate ambition, he died unpitied and
unlamented.
The
changes, which followed with rapidity, unequivocally declared that the queen was disaffected to the present state of religion. Dr. Poynet
was displaced to make room for Gardiner to be bishop
of Winchester, to whom she also gave the important office of lord-chancellor.
Dr. Ridley was dismissed from the see
of London, and Bonne introduced. J. Story was put out
of the bishopric of Chichester, to admit Dr. Day. J. Hooper was
sent prisoner to the Fleet, and Dr. Heath put into the see of Worcestor. Miles Coverdale was also
excluded from Exeter, and Dr. Vesie placed in that diocese. Dr. Tonstall
was also promoted to the see
of Durham. These things being marked and perceived,
great heaviness and discomfort grew more and more to
all good men's hearts; but to the wicked great
rejoicing. They that could dissemble took no great care how the matter went;
but such, whose consciences were joined with the
truth, perceived already coals to be kindled, which
after should be the destruction of many a true
Christian.
The next victim was
the amiable Lady Jane Gray, who, by her acceptance of the crown at the earnest
solicitations of her friends, incurred the implacable resentment of the bloody
Mary. When she first mounted the scaffold, she spoke to the specators in this
manner: "Good people, I am come hither to die,
and by a law I am condemned to the same. The fact
against the queen's highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me:
but, touching the procurement and desire thereof by me, or on my behalf, I do
wash my hands thereof in innocency before God, and the face of you, good
Christian people, this day:" and therewith she wrung her hands, wherein
she had her book. Then said she, "I pray you all, good Christian people,
to bear me witness, that I die a good Christian woman, and that I do look to be
saved by no other mean, but only by the mercy of God in the blood of His only
Son Jesus Christ: and I confess that when I did know the Word of God, I
neglected the same, loved myself and the world, and therefore this plague and
punishment is happily and worthily happened unto me for my sins; and yet I
thank God, that of His goodness He hath thus given me a time and a respite to
repent. And now, good people, while I am alive, I pray you assist me with your
prayers." And then, kneeling down, she turned to
Feckenham, saying, "Shall I say this Psalm?"
and he said, "Yea." Then she said the Psalm of Miserere mei Deus, in
English, in a most devout manner throughout to the end; and then she stood up,
and gave her maid, Mrs. Ellen, her gloves and handkerchief, and her book to Mr.
Bruges; and then she untied he gown, and the executioner pressed upon her to
help her off with it: but she, desiring him to let her alone, turned towards
her two gentlewomen, who helped her off therewith, and also with her frowes,
paaft, and neckerchief, giving to her a fair handkerchief to put about her
eyes.
Then
the executioner kneeled down, and asked her
forgiveness, whom she forgave most willingly. Then he desired her to stand upon
the straw, which doing, she saw the block. Then she said, "I pray you,
despatch me quickly." Then she kneeled down,
saying, "Will you take it off before I lay me
down?" And the executioner said, "No, madam." Then she tied a
handkerchief about her eyes, and feeling for the
block, she said, "What shall I do? Where is it? Where is it?" One of
the standers-by guiding her therunto, she laid her head upon the block, and
then stretched forth her body, and said, "Lord, into Thy hands I commend
my spirit;" and so finished her life, in the year of our Lord 1554, the
twelfth day of February, about the seventeenth year of her age.
Thus
died Lady Jane; and on the same day Lord Guilford, her husband, one of the duke
of Northumberland's sons, was likewise beheaded, two innocents in comparison
with them that sat upon them. For they were both very young,
and ignorantly accepted that which others had contrived, and by open
proclamation consented to take from others, and give to them.
Touching
the condemnation of this pious lady, it is to be noted that Judge Morgan, who gave sentence against her,
soon after he had condemned her, fell mad, and in his
raving cried out continually to have the Lady Jane
taken away from him, and so he ended his life.
On
the twenty-first day of the same month, Henry, duke of Suffolk, was beheaded on Tower-hill, the fourth day after his
condemnation: about which time many gentlemen and
yeomen were condemned, whereof some
were executed at London, and some in the country. In the number of whom was Lord Thomas
Gray, brother to the said duke, being apprehended not
long after in North Wales, and executed for the same. Sir Nicholas Throgmorton,
also, very narrowly escaped.
John Rogers was educated at Cambridge, and was
afterward many years chaplain to the merchant
adventurers at Antwerp in Brabant. Here he met with the celebrated martyr
William Tyndale, and Miles Coverdale, both voluntary exiles from their country
for their aversion to popish superstition and idolatry. They were the
instruments of his conversion; and he united with them in that translation of
the Bible into English, entitled "The Translation of Thomas Matthew."
From the Scriptures he knew that unlawful vows may be lawfully broken; hence he
married, and removed to Wittenberg in Saxony, for the improvement of learning;
and he there learned the Dutch language, and received the charge of a
congregation, which he faithfully executed for many
years. On King Edward's accession, he left Saxony to promote the work of
reformation in England; and, after some time, Nicholas
Ridley, then bishop of London, gave him a prebend in St. Paul's Cathedral, and
the dean and chapter appointed him reader of the divinity lesson there. Here he
continued until Queen Mary's succession to the throne, when the Gospel and true
religion were banished, and the Antichrist of Rome,
with his superstition and idolatry, introduced.
The
circumstance of Mr. Rogers having preached at Paul's cross, after Queen Mary
arrived at the Tower, has been already stated. He
confirmed in his sermon the true doctrine taught in King Edward's time, and exhorted the people to beware of the pestilence of
popery, idolatry, and superstition. For this he was called
to account, but so ably defended himself that, for that time, he was dismissed. The proclamation of the queen, however, to
prohibit true preaching, gave his enemies a new handle against him. Hence he was again summoned before
the council, and commanded to keep his house. He did
so, though he might have escaped; and though he perceived the state of the true
religion to be desperate. Heknew he could not want a living in Germany; and he
could not forget a wife and ten children, and to seek means to succor them. But
all these things were insufficient to induce him to depart, and, when once
called to answer in Christ's cause, he stoutly defended it,
and hazarded his life for that purpose.
After
long imprisonment in his own house, the restless Bonner, bishop of London,
caused him to be committed to Newgate, there to be lodged
among thieves and murderers.
After
Mr. Rogers had been long and straitly imprisoned, and lodged in Newgate among
thieves, often examined, and very uncharitably entreated, and at length
unjustly and most cruelly condemned by Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester,
the fourth day of February, in the year of our Lord 1555, being Monday in the
morning, he was suddenly warned by the keeper of Newgate's wife, to prepare
himself for the fire; who, being then sound asleep, could scarce be awaked. At
length being raised and awaked, and bid to make haste,
then said he, "If it be so, I need not tie my
points." And so was had down, first to bishop
Bonner to be degraded: which being
done, he craved of Bonner but one petition; and Bonner asked what that
should be. Mr. Rogers replied that he might speak a few
words with his wife before his burning, but that could not be
obtained of him.
When
the time came that he should be brought out of Newgate
to Smithfield, the place of his execution, Mr. Woodroofe, one of the sheriffs,
first came to Mr. Rogers, and asked him if he would revoke his abominable
doctrine, and the evil opinion of the Sacrament of the altar. Mr. Rogers
answered, "That which I have preached I will seal with my blood."
Then Mr. Woodroofe said, "Thou art an
heretic." "That shall be known," quoth Mr. Rogers, "at the
Day of Judgment." "Well," said Mr. Woodroofe, "I will never
pray for thee." "But I will pray for you," said Mr. Rogers; and
so was brought the same day, the fourth of February,
by the sheriffs, towards Smithfield, saying the Psalm Miserere by the way, all
the people wonderfully rejoicing at his constancy; with great praises and
thanks to God for the same. And there in the presence of Mr. Rochester,
comptroller of the queen's household, Sir Richard Southwell, both the sheriffs,
and a great number of people, he was
burnt to ashes, washing his hands in the flame as he was burning. A
little before his burning, his pardon was brought, if
he would have recanted; but he utterly refused it. He was the first martyr of
all the blessed company that suffered in Queen Mary's time that gave the first
adventure upon the fire. His wife and children, being eleven in number, ten
able to go, and one sucking at her breast, met him by the
way, as he went towards Smithfield. TGhis sorrowful sight of his own
flesh and blood could nothing move him, but that he constantly and cheerfully
took his death with wonderful patience, in the defence and quarrel of the
Gospel of Christ."
Mr. Saunders, after
passing some
time in the school of Eaton, was
chosen to go to King's College in Cambridge, where he continued
three years, and profited in knowledge and learning
very much for that time. Shortly after he quitted the
university, and went to his parents, but soon returned to Cambridge again to
his study, where he began to add to the knowledge of the Latin, the study of
the Greek and Hebrew tongues, and gave himself up to the study of the Holy
Scriptures, the better to qualify himself for the office of preacher.
In
the beginning of King Edward's reign, when God's true religion was introduced, after license obtained, he began to preach, and was so well liked of
them who then had authority that they appointed him to read a divinity lecture
in the College of Forthringham. The College of Fothringham being
dissolved he was placed to be a reader in the
minster at Litchfield. After a certain space, he departed from Litchfield to a
benefice in Leicestershire, called Church-langton, where he held a residence,
taught diligently, and kept a liberal house. Thence he was
orderly called to take a benefice in the city of London, namely,
All-hallows in Bread-street. After this he preached at
Northhampton, nothing meddling with the state, but boldly uttering his
conscience against the popish doctrines which were likely to spring up again in
England, as a just plague for the little love which the English nation then
bore to the blessed Word of God, which had been so plentifully offered unto
them.
The
queen's party who were there, and heard him, were
highly displeased with him for his sermon, and for it kept him among them as a
prisoner. But partly for love of his brethren and friends, who were chief
actors for the queen among them, and partly because there was no law broken by
hbis preaching, they dismissed him.
Some
of his friends, perceiving such fearful menacing, counselled
him to fly out of the realm, which he refused to do. But seeing he was with
violence kept from doing good in that place, he returned towards London, to
visit his flock.
In
the afternoon of Sunday, October 15, 1554, as he was reading in his church to
exhort his people, the bishop of London interrupted him, by sending an officer
for him.
His
treason and sedition the bishop's charity was content to let slip until another
time, but a heretic he meant to prove him, and all those, he said, who taught
and believed that the administration of the Sacraments, and all orders of the
Church, are the most pure, which come the nearest to the order of the primitive
Church.
After
much talk concerning this matter, the bishop desired
him to write what he believed of transubstantiation. Lawrence Saunders did so,
saying, "My Lord, you seek my blood, and you shall have it: I pray God
that you may be so baptized in it that you may ever after loathe blood-sucking,
and become a better man." Upon being closely charged with contumacy, the
severe replies of Mr. Saunders to the bishop, (who had before, to get the favor
of Henry VIII written and set forth in print, a book of true obedience, wherein
he had openly declared Queen Mary to be a bastard) so irritated him that he
exclaimed, "Carry away this frenzied fool to prison."
After
this good and faithful martyr had been kept in prison
one year and a quarter, the bishops at length called him, as they did his
fellow-prisoners, openly to be examined before the
queen's council.
His
examination being ended, the officers led him out of
the place, and stayed until the rest of his fellow-prisoners were likewise examined,
that they might lead them all together to prison.
After
his excommunication and delivery over to the secular power, he was brought by
the sheriff of London to the Compter, a prison in his own parish of
Bread-street, at which he rejoiced greatly, both because he found there a
fellow-prisoner, Mr. Cardmaker, with whom he had much Christian and comfortable
discourse; and because out of prison, as before in his pulpit, he might have an
opportunity of preaching to his parishioners. On the fourth of February,
Bonner, bishop of London, came to the prison to degrade him; the day following,
in the morning the sheriff of London delivered him to certain of the queen's
guard, who were appointed to carry him to the city of
Coventry, there to be burnt.
When
they had arrived at Coventry, a poor shoemaker, who used to serve him with
shoes, came to him, and said, "O my good master, God strengthen and
comfort you." "Good shoemaker," Mr. Saunders replied, "I
desire thee to pray for me, for I am the most unfit man for this high office,
that ever was appointed to it; but my gracious God and dear Father is able to
make me strong enough." The next day, being the eighth of February, 1555, he was led to the
place of execution, in the park, without the city. He went in an old gown and a
shirt, barefooted, and oftentimes fell flat on the ground, and prayed. When he was come to nigh the
place, the officer, appointed to see the execution done, said to Mr.
Saunders that he was one of them who marred the queen's realm, but if he would
recant, there was pardon for him. "Not I," replied the holy martyr,
"but such as you have injured the realm. The blessed Gospel of Christ is
what I hold; that do I believe, that have I taught, and that will I never
revoke!" Mr. Saunders then slowly moved towards the fire, sank to the earth and prayed; he then rose up, embraced the stake, and
frequently said, "Welcome, thou cross of Christ! welcome everlasting
life!" Fire was then put to the fagots, and, he was overwhelmed by the
dreadful flames, and sweetly slept in the Lord Jesus.
John Hooper,
student and graduate in the University of Oxford, was stirred with such fervent
desire to the love and knowledge of the Scriptures that he was compelled to
move from thence, and was retained in the house of Sir Thomas Arundel, as his
steward, until Sir Thomas had intelligence of his opinions and religion, which
he in no case did favor, though he exceedingly favored his person and condition
and wished to be his friend. Mr. Hooper now prudently left Sir Thomas' house
and arrived at Paris, but in a short time returned to England, and was retained
by Mr. Sentlow, until the time that he was again molested and sought for, when
he passed through France to the higher parts of Germany; where, commencing
acquaintance with learned men, he was by them free and lovingly entertained,
both at Basel, and especially at Zurich, by Mr. Bullinger, who was his singular
friend; here also he married his wife, who was a Burgonian, and applied very
studiously to the Hebrew tongue.
At
length, when God saw it good to stay the bloody time of the six articles, and
to give us King Edward to reign over this realm, with some peace and rest unto
the Church, amongst many other English exiles, who then repaired homeward, Mr.
Hooper also, moved in conscience, thought not to
absent himself, but seeing such a time and occasion, offered to help forward
the Lord's work, to the uttermost of his ability.
When
Mr. Hooper had taken his farewell of Mr. Bullinger, and his friends in Zurich,
he repaired again to England in the reign of King Edward VI, and coming to
London, used continually to preach, most times twice, or at least once a day.
In
his sermons, according to his accustomed manner, he corrected sin, and sharply inveighed against the iniquity of the world
and the corrupt abuses of the Church. The people in great flocks and companies
daily came to hear his voice, as the most melodious sound and tune of Orpheus'
harp, insomuch, that oftentimes when he was preaching, the church would be so
full that none could enter farther than the doors
thereof. In his doctrine he was earnest, in tongue eloquent, in the Scriptures
perfect, in pains indefatigable, in his life exemplary.
Having
preached before the king's majesty, he was soon after made bishop of
Gloucester. In that office he continued two years, and
behaved himself so well that his very enemies could find no fault with him, and
after that he was made bishop of Worcester.
Dr.
Hooper executed the office of a most careful and vigilant pastor, for the space
of two years and more, as long as the state of
religion in King Edward's time was sound and flourishing.
After
he had been cited to appear before Bonner and Dr. Heath, he was led to the
Council, accused falsely of owing the queen money, and in the next year, 1554,
he wrote an account of his severe treatment during near eighteen months'
confinement in the Fleet, and after his third examination, January 28, 1555, at
St. Mary Overy's, he, with the Rev. Mr. Rogers, was conducted to the Compter in
Southwark, there to remain until the next day at nine o'clock, to see whether
they would recant. "Come, Brother Rogers," said Dr. Hooper,
"must we two take this matter first in hand, and begin to fry in these
fagots?" "Yes, Doctor," said Mr. Rogers, "by God's
grace." "Doubt not," said Dr. Hooper, "but God will give us
strength;" and the people so applauded their constancy that they had much
ado to pass.
January
29, Bishop Hooper was degraded and condemned, and the
Rev. Mr. Rogers was treated in like manner. At dark,
Dr. Hooper was led through the city to Newgate;
notwithstanding this secrecy, many people came forth
to their doors with lights, and saluted him, praising God for his constancy.
During
the few days he was in Newgate, he was frequently visited by Bonner and others,
but without avail. As Christ was tempted, so they
tempted him, and then maliciously reported that he had recanted. The place of
his martyrdom being fixed at Gloucester, he rejoiced very much, lifting up his
eyes and hands to heaven, and praising God that he saw it good to send him
among the people over whom he was pastor, there to confirm with his death the
truth which he had before taught them.
On
February 7, he came to Gloucester, about five o'clock,
and lodged at one Ingram's house. After his first sleep, he continued in prayer
until morning; and all the day, except a little time
at his meals, and when conversing such as the guard kindly permitted to speak
to him, he spent in prayer.
Sir
Anthony Kingston, at one time Dr. Hooper's good friend, was
appointed by the queen's letters to attend at
his execution. As soon as he saw the bishop he burst into tears. With tender
entreaties he exhorted him to live. "True it is," said the bishop,
"that death is bitter, and life is sweet; but alas! consider that the
death to come is more bitter, and the life to come is more
sweet."
The
same day a blind boy obtained leave to be brought into
Dr.
Hooper's
presence. The same boy, not long before, had suffered imprisonment at
Gloucester for confessing the truth. "Ah! poor boy," said the bishop,
"though God hath taken from thee thy outward sight, for what reason He
best knoweth, yet He hath endued thy soul with the eye of knowledge and of
faith. God give thee grace continually to pray unto Him, that thou lose not
that sight, for then wouldst thou indeed be blind both in body and soul."
When
the mayor waited upon him preparatory to his execution, he expressed his
perfect obedience, and only requested that a quick
fire might terminate his torments. After he had got up
in the morning, he desired that no man should be suffered
to come into the chamber, that he might be solitary until the hour of
execution.
About
eight o'clock, on February 9, 1555, he was led forth,
and many thousand persons were
collected, as it was market-day. All the way,
being straitly charged not to speak, and beholding the people, who mourned
bitterly for him, he would sometimes lift up his eyes towards heaven, and look
very cheerfully upon such as he knew: and he was never known, during the time
of his being among them, to look with so cheerful and ruddy a countenance as he
did at that time. When he came to the place appointed where he should die, he
smilingly beheld the stake and preparation made for him, which was near unto
the great elm tree over against the college of priests, where he used to
preach.
Now,
after he had entered into prayer, a box was brought and laid before him upon a stool, with his
pardon from the queen, if he would turn. At the sight whereof he cried,
"If you love my soul, away with it!" The box being
taken away, Lord Chandois said, "Seeing there is no remedy;
despatch him quickly."
Command
was now given that the fire should be
kindled. But because there were not more green fagots than two horses
could carry, it kindled not speedily, and was a pretty
while also before it took the reeds upon the fagots. At length it burned about
him, but the wind having full strength at that place, and being a lowering cold morning, it blew the flame from him, so that he was in
a manner little more than touched by the fire.
Within
a space after, a few dry fagots were
brought, and a new fire kindled with fagots, (for there were no more
reeds) and those burned at the nether parts, but had small power above, because
of the wind, saving that it burnt his hair and scorched his skin a little. In
the time of which fire, even as at the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly,
and not very loud, but as one without pain, "O Jesus, Son of David, have
mercy upon me, and receive my soul!" After the second fire was spent, he
wiped both his eyes with his hands, and beholding the people, he said with an
indifferent, loud voice, "For God's love, good people, let me have more
fire!" and all this while his nether parts did burn; but the fagots were
so few that the flame only singed his upper parts.
The
third fire was kindled within a while after, which was
more extreme than the other two. In this fire he prayed with a loud voice,
"Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me! Lord Jesus receive
my spirit!" And these were the last words he was heard
to utter. But when he was black in the mouth, and his tongue so swollen that he
could not speak, yet his lips went until they were shrunk to the gums: and he
knocked his breast with his hands until one of his arms fell off, and then
knocked still with the other, while the fat, water, and blood dropped out at
his fingers' ends, until by renewing the fire, his strength was gone, and his
hand clave fast in knocking to the iron upon his breast. Then immediately
bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit.
Thus was he three quarters of an hour or more in the fire.
Even
as a lamb, patiently he abode the extremity thereof,
neither moving forwards, backwards, nor to any side; but he died as quietly as
a child in his bed. And he now reigneth, I doubt not, as a blessed martyr in
the joys of heaven, prepared for the faithful in Christ before the foundations
of the world; for whose constancy all Christians are
bound to praise God.
Dr. Rowland Taylor,
vicar of Hadley, in Suffolk, was a man of eminent learning, and had been admitted to the degree of doctor of the civil and canon
law.
His attachment
to the pure and uncorrupted principles of Christianity recommended him to the
favor and friendship of Dr. Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, with whom he
lived a considerable time, until through his interest he obtained the living at
Hadley.
Not
only was his word a preaching unto them, but all his life and conversation was
an example of unfeigned Christian life and true holiness. He was void of all
pride, humble and meek as any child; so that none were so poor but they might
boldly, as unto their father, resort unto him; neither was his lowliness
childish or fearful, but, as occasion, time, and place required, he would be
stout in rebuking the sinful and evildoers; so that none was so rich but he
would tell them plainly his fault, with such earnest and grave rebukes as
became a good curate and pastor. He was a man very mild, void of all rancor, grudge or evil will; ready to do good to all men; readily
forgiving his enemies; and never sought to do evil to any.
To
the poor that were blind, lame, sick, bed rid, or that had many children, he
was a very father, a careful patron, and diligent provider, insomuch that he
caused the parishioners to make a general provision for them; and he himself
(beside the continual relief that they always found at his house) gave an
honest portion yearly to the common almsbox. His wife also was an honest,
discreet, and sober matron, and his children well nurtured, brought up in the
fear of God and good learning.
He
was a good salt of the earth, savorly biting the corrupt manners of evil men; a
light in God's house, set upon a candlestick for all good men to imitate and
follow.
Thus
continued this good shepherd among his flock, governing and leading them
through the wilderness of this wicked world, all the days of the most innocent
and holy king of blessed memory, Edward VI. But on his demise, and the
succession of Queen Mary to the throne, he escaped not the cloud that burst on
so many beside; for two of his parishioners, Foster, an attorney, and Clark, a
tradesman, out of blind zeal, resolved that Mass should be celebrated, in all
its superstitious forms, in the parish church of Hadley, on Monday before
Easter. This Dr. Taylor, entering the church, strictly
forbade; but Clark forced the Doctor out of the church, celebrated Mass,
and immediately informed the lord-chancellor, bishop of Winchester of his
behavior, who summoned him to appear, and answer the complaints that were alleged against him.
The doctor upon the receipt of the summons, cheerfully prepared
to obey the same; and rejected the advice of his friends to fly beyond sea.
When Gardiner saw Dr. Taylor, he, according to his common custom, reviled him.
Dr. Taylor heard his abuse patiently, and when the bishop said, "How
darest thou look me in the face! knowest thou not who I am?" Dr. Taylor
replied, "You are Dr. Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, and
lord-chancellor, and yet but a mortal man. But if I should be afraid of your lordly
looks, why fear ye not God, the Lord of us all? With what countenance will you
appear before the judgment seat of Christ, and answer to your oath made first
unto King Henry VIII, and afterward unto King Edward VI, his son?"
A
long conversation ensued, in which Dr. Taylor was so piously collected and
severe upon his antagonist, that he exclaimed:
"Thou
art a blasphemous heretic! Thou indeed blasphemist the
blessed Sacrament, (here he put off his cap) and speakest against the holy
Mass, which is made a sacrifice for the quick and the dead." The bishop
afterward committed him into the king's bench.
When
Dr. Taylor came there, he found the virtuous and vigilant preacher of God's
Word, Mr. Bradford; who equally thanked God that He had provided him with such
a comfortable fellow-prisoner; and they both together praised God, and
continued in prayer, reading and exhorting one another.
After
Dr. Taylor had lain some time in prison, he was cited to appear in the arches of Bow-church.
Dr. Taylor being condemned, was
committed to the Clink, and the keepers were charged
to treat him roughly; at night he was removed to the
Poultry Compter.
When
Dr. Taylor had lain in the Compter about a week on the fourth of February,
Bonner came to degrade him, bringing with him such ornaments as appertained to
the massing mummery; but the Doctor refused these trappings until they were forced upon him.
The
night after he was degraded his wife came with John
Hull, his servant, and his son Thomas, and were by the gentleness of the
keepers permitted to sup with him.
After
supper, walking up and down, he gave God thanks for His grace, that had given him strength to abide by His holy Word. With
tears they prayed together, and kissed one another.
Unto his son Thomas he gave a Latin book, containing the notable sayings of the
old martyrs, and in the end of that he wrote his
testament:
"I
say to my wife, and to my children, The Lord gave you unto me, and the Lord
hath taken me from you, and you from me: blessed be the name of the Lord! I believe that they are blessed
which die in the Lord. God careth for sparrows, and for the hairs of our heads.
I have ever found Him more faithful and favorable,
than is any father or husband. Trust ye therefore in Him by the means of our
dear Savior Christ's merits: believe, love, fear, and obey Him: pray to Him,
for He hath promised to help. Count me not dead, for I shall certainly live,
and never die. I go before, and you shall follow after, to our long home."
On
the morrow the sheriff of London with his officers came to the Compter by two
o'clock in the morning, and brought forth Dr. Taylor;
and without any light led him to the Woolsack, an inn without Aldgate. Dr.
Taylor's wife, suspecting that her husband should that night be carried away,
watched all night in St. Botolph's church-porch beside Aldgate, having her two
children, the one named Elizabeth, of thirteen years of age (whom, being left
without father or mother, Dr. Taylor had brought up of alms from three years
old), the other named Mary, Dr. Taylor's own daughter.
Now,
when the sheriff and his company came against St.
Botolph's
church, Elizabeth cried, saying, "O my dear father! mother, mother, here
is my father led away." Then his wife cried, "Rowland, Rowland, where
art thou?"-for it was a very dark morning, that the one
could not well see the other. Dr. Taylor answered, "Dear wife, I am
here"; and stayed. The sheriff's men would have led him forth, but the
sheriff said, "Stay a little, masters, I pray you; and let him speak to
his wife"; and so they stayed.
Then
came she to him, and he took his daughter Mary in his
arms; and he, his wife, and Elizabeth kneeled down and
said the Lord's Prayer, at which sight the sheriff wept apace, and so did divers others of the company. After they had prayed, he rose
up and kissed his wife, and shook her by the hand, and
said, "Farewell, my dear wife; be of good comfort, for I am quiet in my
conscience. God shall stir up a father for my children."
All
the way Dr. Taylor was joyful and merry, as one that accounted himself going to
a most pleasant banquet or bridal. He spake many
notable things to the sheriff and yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and
often moved them to weep, through his much earnest
calling upon them to repent, and to amend their evil and wicked living.
Oftentimes also he caused them to wonder and rejoice,
to see him so constant and steadfast, void of all fear, joyful in heart, and
glad to die.
When
Dr. Taylor had arrived at Aldham Common, the place where he should suffer,
seeing a great multitude of people, he asked, "What place is this, and
what meaneth it that so much people are gathered
hither?" It was answered, "It is Aldham
Common, the place where you must suffer; and the people have come to look upon
you." Then he said, "Thanked be God, I am even at home"; and he
alighted from his horse and with both hands rent the hood from his head.
His
head had been notched and clipped like as a man would
clip a fool's; which cost the good bishop Bonner had
bestowed upon him. But when the people saw his reverend and ancient face, with
a long white beard, they burst out with weeping tears, and cried, saying:
"God save thee, good Dr. Taylor! Jesus Christ strengthen
thee, and help thee! the Holy Ghost comfort
thee!" with such other like good wishes.
When
he had prayed, he went to the stake and kissed it, and set himself into a pitch
barrel, which they had put for him to stand in, and stood with his back upright
against the stake, with his hands folded together, and his eyes towards heaven,
and continually prayed.
They
then bound him with the chains, and having set up the fagots, one Warwick
cruelly cast a fagot at him, which struck him on his head, and cut his face, sot hat the blood ran down. Then said Dr. Taylor, "O
friend, I have harm enough; what needed that?"
Sir
John Shelton standing by, as Dr. Taylor was speaking, and saying the Psalm
Miserere in English, struck him on the lips:
"You
knave," he said, "speak Latin: I will make thee." At last they kindled the fire; and Dr. Taylor holding up both
his hands, calling upon God, and said, "Merciful Father of heaven! for
Jesus Christ, my Savior's sake, receive my soul into Thy hands!" So he stood still without either crying or moving, with his
hands folded together, until Soyce, with a halberd struck him on the head until
his brains fell out, and the corpse fell down into the
fire.
Thus
rendered up this man of God his blessed soul into the
hands of his merciful Father, and to his most dear Savior Jesus Christ, whom he
most entirely loved, faithfully and earnestly preached, obediently followed in
living, and constantly glorified in death.
William Hunter had been trained to the doctrines of
the Reformation from his earliest youth, being descended
from religious parents, who carefully instructed him in the principles of true
religion.
Hunter,
then nineteen years of age, refusing to receive the communion at Mass, was threatened to be brought before
the bishop; to whom this valiant young martyr was conducted
by a constable.
Bonner
caused William to be brought into a chamber, where he
began to reason with him, promising him security and pardon if he would recant.
Nay, he would have been content if he would have gone
only to receive and to confession, but William would not do so for all the
world.
Upon
this the bishop commanded his men to put William in the stocks in his gate
house, where he sat two days and nights, with a crust of brown bread and a cup
of water only, which he did not touch.
At
the two days' end, the bishop came to him, and finding him steadfast in the
faith, sent him to the convict prison, and commanded the keeper to lay irons
upon him as many as he could bear. He continued in
prison three quarters of a year, during which time he had been before the
bishop five times, besides the time when he was condemned
in the consistory in St. Paul's, February 9, at which time his brother, Robert
Hunter, was present.
Then
the bishop, calling William, asked him if he would recant, and finding he was
unchangeable, pronounced sentence upon him, that he should go from that place
to Newgate for a time, and thence to Brentwood, there to be
burned.
About
a month afterward, William was sent down to Brentwood,
where he was to be executed. On coming to the stake,
he knelt down and read the Fifty-first Psalm, until he
came to these words, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken
and a contrite heart, O God, Thou wilt not despise." Steadfast in refusing
the queen's pardon, if he would become an apostate, at length one Richard
Ponde, a bailiff, came, and made the chain fast about him.
William
now cast his psalter into his brother's hand, who said, "William, think on
the holy passion of Christ, and be not afraid of death."
"Behold," answered William, "I am not afraid." Then he lifted up his hands to heaven, and said, "Lord, Lord,
Lord, receive my spirit;" and casting down he head again into the
smothering smoke, he yielded up his life for the truth, sealing it with his
blood to the praise of God.
This worthy and
learned prelate, the bishop of St. David's in Wales, having in the former
reign, as well as since the accession of Mary, been remarkably zealous in
promoting the reformed doctrines, and exploding the errors of popish idolatry,
was summoned, among others, before the persecuting bishop of Winchester, and
other commissioners set apart for the abominable work of devastation and
massacre.
His
principal accusers and persecutors, on a charge of praemunire in the reign of
Edward VI were George Constantine Walter, his servant;
Thomas Young, chanter of the cathedral, afterward bishop of Bangor, etc. Dr. Farrar ably replied to the copies of information
laid against him, consisting of fifty-six articles. The whole
process of this trial was long and tedious. Delay succeeded delay, and
after that Dr. Farrar had been long unjustly detained in custody under
sureties, in the reign of King Edward, because he had been promoted by the duke
of Somerset, whence after his fall he found fewer friends to support him
against such as wanted his bishopric by the coming in of Queen Mary, he was
accused and examined not for any matter of praemunire, but for his faith and
doctrine; for which he was called before the bishop of Winchester with Bishop
Hooper, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Bradford, Mr. Saunders, and others, February 4, 1555;
on which day he would also with them have been condemned, but his condemnation
was deferred, and he sent to prison again, where he continued until February
14, and then was sent into Wales to receive sentence. He was six times brought
up before Henry Morgan, bishop of St. David's, who demanded if he would abjure;
from which he zealously dissented, and appealed to
Cardinal Pole; notwithstanding which, the bishop, proceeding in his rage,
pronounced him a heretic excommunicate, and surrendered him to the secular
power.
Dr.
Farrar, being condemned and degraded, was not long after brought to the place
of execution in the town of Carmathen, in the market-place
of which, on the south side of the market-cross, March
30, 1555, being Saturday next before Passion Sunday, he most constantly
sustained the torments of the fire.
Concerning
his constancy, it is said that one Richard Jones, a knight's son, coming to Dr.
Farrar a little before his death, seemed to lament the painfulness of the death
he had to suffer; to whom the bishop answered that if he saw him once stir in
the pains of his burning, he might then give no credit to his doctrine; and as
he said, so did he maintain his promise, patiently standing without emotion,
until one Richard Gravell with a staff struck him down.
Rawlins White was
by his calling and occupation a fisherman, living and continuing in the said
trade for the space of twenty years at least, in the town of Cardiff, where he
bore a very good name amongst his neighbors.
Though
the good man was altogether unlearned, and withal very simple,
yet it pleased God to remove him from error and idolatry to a knowledge of the
truth, through the blessed Reformation in Edward's reign. He had his son taught
to read English, and after the little boy could read pretty
well, his father every night after supper, summer and winter, made the
boy read a portion of the Holy Scriptures, and now and then a part of some other good book.
When
he had continued in his profession the space of five years, King Edward died,
upon whose decease Queen Mary succeeded and with her all kinds of superstition
crept in. White was taken by the officers of the town,
as a man suspected of heresy, brought before the Bishop Llandaff, and committed
to prison in Chepstow, and at last removed to the castle of Cardiff, where he
continued for the space of one whole year. Being brought before the bishop in his chapel, he counselled
him by threats and promises. But as Rawlins would in no wise recant his
opinions, the bishop told him plainly that he must proceed against him by law, and condemn him as a heretic.
Before
they proceeded to this extremity, the bishop proposed that prayer should be said for his conversion. "This," said White,
"is like a godly bishop, and if your request be godly and right, and you
pray as you ought, no doubt God will hear you; pray you, therefore, to your
God, and I will pray to my God." After the bishop and his party had done
praying, he asked Rawlins if he would now revoke. "You find," said
the latter, "your prayer is not granted, for I remain the same; and God
will strengthen me in support of this truth." After this, the bishop tried
what saying Mass would do; but Rawlins called all the people to witness that he
did not bow down to the host. Mass being ended,
Rawlins was called for again; to whom the bishop used many persuasions; but the blessed man continued so steadfast
in his former profession that the bishop's discourse was to no purpose. The
bishop now caused the definitive sentence to be read,
which being ended, Rawlins was
carried again to Cardiff, to a loathsome prison in the town, called
Cockmarel, where he passed his time in prayer, and in the singing of Psalms. In
about three weeks the order came from town for his execution.
When
he came to the place, where his poor wife and children
stood weeping, the sudden sight of them so pierced his heart, that the tears
trickled down his face. Being come to the altar of his sacrifice, in going
toward the stake, he fell down upon his knees, and kissed the ground; and in rising again, a little
earth sticking on his face, he said these words. "Earth unto earth, and
dust unto dust; thou art my mother, and unto thee I shall return."
When
all things were ready, directly over against the stake, in the face of Rawlins
White, there was a stand erected, whereon stepped up a priest, addressing
himself to the people, but, as he spoke of the Romish doctrines of the
Sacraments, Rawlins cried out, "Ah! thou wicked hypocrite, dost thou
presume to prove thy false doctrine by Scripture? Look in the text that
followeth; did not Christ say, 'Do this in remembrance of me?'"
Then
some that stood by cried out, "Put fire! set on
fire!" which being done, the straw and reeds cast
up a great and sudden flame. In which flame this good man bathed his hands so
long, until such time as the sinews shrank, and the fat dropped away, saving
that once he did, as it were, wipe his face with one of them. All this while,
which was somewhat long, he cried with a loud voice,
"O Lord, receive my spirit!" until he could not open his mouth. At last the extremity of the fire was so vehement against his
legs that they were consumed almost
before the rest of his body was hurt, which
made the whole body fall over the chains into the fire sooner than it would
have done. Thus died this good old man for his testimony of God's truth, and is now rewarded, no doubt, with the crown of eternal life.
George Marsh, born
in the parish of Deane, in the county of Lancaster, received a good education
and trade from his parents; about his twenty-fifth year he married, and lived,
blessed with several children, on his farm until his
wife died. He then went to study at Cambridge, and became the curate of Rev.
Lawrence Saunders, in which duty he constantly and zealously set forth the
truth of God's Word, and the false doctrines of the modern Antichrist.
Being
confined by Dr. Coles, the bishop of Chester, within the precincts of his own
house, he was dept from any intercourse with his friends during four months;
his friends and mother, earnestly wished him to have flown from "the wrath
to come;" but Mr. Marsh thought that such a step would ill agree with that
profession he had during nine years openly made. He, however, secreted himself,
but he had much struggling, and in secret prayer
begged that God would direct him, through the advice of his best friends, for
his own glory and to what was best. At length, determined by a letter he
received, boldly to confess the faith of Christ, he took leave of his
mother-in-law and other friends, recommending his children to their care and
departed for Smethehills, whence he was, with others, conducted to Lathum, to
undergo examination before the earl of Derby, Sir William Nores, Mr. Sherburn,
the parson of Garpnal, and others. The various questions put to him he answered
with a good conscience, but when Mr. Sherburn interrogated him upon his belief
of the Sacrament of the altar, Mr. Marsh answered like a true Protestant that
the essence of the bread and wine was not at all changed, hence, after
receiving dreadful threats from some, and fair words from others, for his opinions,
he was remanded to ward, where he lay two nights without any bed.
On
Palm Sunday he underwent a second examination, and Mr.
Marsh
much lamented that his fear should at all have induced him to prevaricate, and
to seek his safety, as long as he did not openly deny Christ; and he again
cried more earnestly to God for strength that he might not be overcome by the
subtleties of those who strove to overrule the purity of his faith. He
underwent three examinations before Dr. Coles, who, finding him steadfast in
the Protestant faith, began to read his sentence; but he was
interrupted by the chancellor, who prayed the bishop to stay before it
was too late. The priest then prayed for Mr. Marsh, but the latter, upon being again solicited to recant, said he durst not deny his
Savior Christ, lest he lose His everlasting mercy, and so obtain eternal death.
The bishop then proceeded in the sentence. He was committed to a dark dungeon, and lay deprived of the consolation of any one (for
all were afraid to relieve or communicate with him) until the day appointed
came that he should suffer. The sheriffs of the city, Amry and Couper, with
their officers, went to the north gate, and took out Mr. George Marsh, who
walked all the way with the Book in his hand, looking upon the same, whence the
people said, "This man does not go to his death as a thief, nor as one
that deserveth to die."
When
he came to the place of execution without the city, near Spittal=Boughton, Mr.
Cawdry, deputy chamberlain of Chester, showed Mr. Marsh a writing
under a great seal, saying that it was a pardon for him if he would recant. He
answered that he would gladly accept the same did it not tend to pluck him from
God.
After
that, he began to speak to the people showing the cause of his death, and would
have exhorted them to stick unto Christ, but one of the sheriffs prevented him.
Kneeling down, he then said his prayers, put off his
clothes unto his shirt, and was chained to the post,
having a number of fagots under him, and a thing made
like a firkin, with pitch and tar in it, over his head. The fire being unskilfully made, and the wind driving it in eddies,
he suffered great extremity, which notwithstanding he bore with Christian
fortitude.
When
he had been a long time tormented in the fire without moving, having his flesh
so broiled and puffed up that they who stood before him could not see the chain
wherewith he was fastened, and therefore supposed that he had been dead,
suddenly he spread abroad his arms, saying, "Father of heaven have mercy
upon me!" and so yielded his spirit into the hands of the Lord. Upon this,
many of the people said he was a martyr, and died
gloriously patient. This caused the bishop shortly after to make a sermon in the
cathedral church, and therein he affirmed, that the said 'Marsh was a heretic,
burnt as such, and is a firebrand in hell.' Mr. Marsh suffered April 24, 1555.
William Flower, otherwise Branch, was born at Snow-hill, in the county of
Cambridge, where he went to school some
years, and then came to the abby of Ely. After he had remained a while he
became a professed monk, was made a priest in the same
house, and there celebrated and sang Mass. After that, by reason of a
visitation, and certain injunctions by the authority of Henry VIII he took upon
him the habit of a secular priest, and returned to Snow-hill, where he was
born, and taught children about half a year.
He
then went to Ludgate, in Suffolk, and served as a secular priest about a
quarter of a year; from thence to Stoniland; at length to Tewksbury, where he
married a wife, with whom he ever after faithfully and honestly continued.
After marriage he resided at Tewksbury about two years, and thence went to
Brosley, where he practiced physic and surgery; but departing from those parts
he came to London, and finally settled at Lambeth, where he and his wife dwelt
together. However, he was generally abroad, excepting
once or twice in a month, to visit and see his wife.
Being at home upon Easter Sunday morning, he came over the water from lambeth
into St. Margaret's Church at Westminster; when seeing a priest, named John
Celtham, administering and giving the Sacrament of the alter to the people, and
being greatly offended in his conscience with the priest for the same, he
struck and wounded him upon the head, and also upon the arm and hand, with his
wood knife, the priest having at the same time in his hand a chalice with the
consecrated host therein, which became sprinkled with blood.
Mr.
Flower, for this injudicious zeal, was heavily ironed, and put into the
gatehouse at Westminster; and afterward summoned
before bishop Bonner and his ordinary, where the bishop, after he had sworn him
upon a Book, ministered articles and interrogatories
to him.
After
examination, the bishop began to exhort him again to return to the unity of his
mother the Catholic Church, with many fair promises.
These Mr. Flower steadfastly rejecting, the bishop ordered him to appear in the
same place in the afternoon, and in the meantime to consider well his former
answer; but he, neither apologizing for having struck the priest, nor swerving
from his faith, the bishop assigned him the next day, April 20, to receive
sentence if he would not recant. The next morning, the bishop accordingly
proceeded to the sentence, condemning and excommunicating him for a heretic,
and after pronouncing him to be degraded, committed
him to the secular power.
On
April 24, St. Mark's eve, he was brought to the place
of martyrdom, in St. Margaret's churchyard, Westminster, where the fact was
committed: and there coming to the stake, he prayed to Almighty God, made a
confession of his faith, and forgave all the world.
This
done, his hand was held up against the stake, and
struck off, his left hand being fastened behind him.
Fire was then set to him, and he burning therein,
cried with a loud voice, "O Thou Son of God receive my soul!" three
times. His speech being now taken from him, he spoke
no more, but notwithstanding he lifted up the stump
with his other arm as long as he could.
Thus
he endured the extremity of the fire, and was cruelly tortured, for the few
fagots that were brought being insufficient to burn him they were compelled to
strike him down into the fire, where lying along upon the ground, his lower
part was consumed in the fire, whilst his upper part was little injured, his
tongue moving in his mouth for a considerable time.
May 30, 1555, the
Rev. John Cardmaker, otherwise called Taylor, prebendary of the Church of
Wells, and John Warne, upholsterer, of St. John's, Walbrook, suffered together
in Smithfield. Mr. Cardmaker, who first was an observant friar before the
dissolution of the abbeys, afterward was a married minister, and in King
Edward's time appointed to be a reader in St. Paul's; being apprehended in the
beginning of Queen Mary's reign, with Dr. Barlow, bishop of Bath, he was
brought to London, and put in the Fleet prison, King Edward's laws being yet in
force. In Mary's reign, when brought before the bishop of Winchester, the
latter offered them the queen's mercy, if they would recant.
Articles
having been preferred against Mr. John Warne, he was examined upon them by
Bonner, who earnestly exhorted him to recant his opinions, to whom he answered,
"I am persuaded that I am in the right opinion, and I see no cause to
recant; for all the filthiness and idolatry lies in the Church of Rome."
The
bishop then, seeing that all his fair promises and terrible threatenings could
not prevail, pronounced the definitive sentence of condemnation, and ordered
May 30, 1555, for the execution of John Cardmaker and John Warne, who were brought by the sheriffs to Smithfield. Being come to
the stake, the sheriffs called Mr. Cardmaker aside, and talked with him
secretly, during which Mr. Warne prayed, was chained
to the stake, and had wood and reeds set about him.
The
people were greatly afflicted, thinking that Mr.
Cardmaker would recant at the burning of Mr. Warne. At length Mr. Cardmaker
departed from the sheriffs, and came towards the stake, knelt
down, and made a long prayer in silence to himself. He then rose up, put off his clothes to his shirt, and went with a bold courage unto the stake and
kissed it; and taking Mr. Warne by the hand, he heartily comforted him, and was
bound to the stake, rejoicing. The people seeing this so suddenly done,
contrary to their previous expectation, cried out, "God be praised! the
Lord strengthen thee, Cardmaker! the Lord Jesus receive thy spirit!" And
this continued while the executioner put fire to them, and both had passed
through the fire to the blessed rest and peace among God's holy saints and
martyrs, to enjoy the crown of triumph and victory prepared for the elect
soldiers and warriors of Christ Jesus in His blessed Kingdom, to whom be glory
and majesty forever. Amen.
John Simpson and
John Ardeley were condemned on the same day with Mr. Carmaker and John Warne, which was the twenty-fifth
of May. They were shortly after sent down from London to Essex, where they were burnt in one day, John Simpson at Rochford, and John
Ardeley at Railey, glorifying God in His beloved Son, and rejoicing that they
were accounted worthy to suffer.
Thomas Haukes, with
six others, was condemned on the ninth of February, 1555. In education he was erudite; in person,
comely, and of good stature; in manners, a gentleman, and a sincere Christian.
A little before death, several of Mr. Hauke's friends,
terrified by the sharpness of the punishment he was going to suffer, privately
desired that in the midst of the flames he should show
them some token, whether the pains of burning were so
great that a man might not collectedly endure it. This he promised to do; and
it was agreed that if the rage of the pain might be suffered, then he should lift up
his hands above his head towards heaven, before he
gave up the ghost.
Not
long after, Mr. Haukes was led away to the place appointed for slaughter by
Lord Rich, and being come to the stake, mildly and patiently prepared himself
for the fire, having a strong chain cast about his middle, with a multitude of
people on every side compassing him about, unto whom after he had spoken many
things, and poured out his soul unto God, the fire was kindled.
When
he had continued long in it, and his speech was taken away by violence of the
flame, his skin drawn together, and his fingers consumed with the fire, so that
it was thought that he was gone, suddenly and contrary to all expectation, this
good man being mindful of his promise, reached up his hands burning in flames
over his head to the living God, and with great rejoicings as it seemed, struck
or clapped them three times together. A great shout followed this wonderful
circumstance, and then this blessed martyr of Christ, sinking down in the fire,
gave up his spirit, June 10, 1555.
Thomas
Watts, of Billerica, in Essex, of the diocese of London, was a linen draper. He
had daily expected to be taken by God's adversaries,
and this came to pass on the fifth of April, 1555, when he was brought
before Lord Rich, and other commissioners at Chelmsford, and accused for not
coming to the church.
Being
consigned over to the bloody bishop, who gave him several
hearings, and, as usual, many arguments, with much entreaty, that he would be a disciple of Antichrist,
but his preaching availed not, and he resorted to his last revenge-that of
condemnation.
At
the stake, after he had kissed it, he spake to Lord
Rich, charging him to repent, for the Lord would revenge his death. Thus did
this good martyr offer his body to the fire, in defence of the true Gospel of
the Savior.
Thomas
Osmond, William Bamford, and Nicholas Chamberlain, all of the town of Coxhall,
being sent up to be examined, Bonner, after several hearings, pronounced them
obstinate heretics, and delivered them to the sheriffs, in whose custody they
remained until they were delivered to the sheriff of Essex county, and by him
were executed, Chamberlain at Colchester, the fourteenth of June; Thomas Osmond
at Maningtree, and William Bamford, alias Butler, at Harwich, the fifteenth of
June, 1555; all dying full of the glorious hope of immortality.
Then
Wriotheseley, lord chancellor, offered Anne Askew the king's pardon if she
would recant; who made this answer, that she came not
thither to deny her Lord and Master. And thus the good
Anne Askew, being compassed in with flames of fire, as
a blessed sacrifice unto God, slept in the Lord, A.D. 1546, leaving behind her
a singular example of Christian constancy for all men to follow.
Rev. John Bradford
was born at Manchester, in Lancashire; he was a good Latin scholar, and
afterward became a servant of Sir John Harrington, knight.
He continued
several years in an honest and thriving way; but the
Lord had elected him to a better function. Hence he
departed from his master, quitting the Temple, at London, for the University of
Cambridge, to learn, by God's law, how to further the building of the Lord's
temple. In a few years after, the university gave him
the degree of master of arts, and he became a fellow
of Pembroke Hall.
Martin
Bucer first urged him to preach, and when he modestly doubted his ability,
Bucer was wont to reply, "If thou hast not fine wheat bread, yet give the
poor people barley bread, or whatsoever else the Lord hath committed unto
thee." Dr. Ridley, that worthy bishop of London, and glorious martyr of
Christ, first called him to take the degree of a deacon and gave him a prebend
in his cathedral Church of St. Paul.
In
this preaching office Mr. Bradford diligently labored for the space of three
years. Sharply he reproved sin, sweetly he preached Christ crucified, ably he
disproved heresies and errors, earnestly he persuaded to godly life. After the
death of blessed King Edward VI Mr. Bradford still continued
diligent in preaching, until he was suppressed by Queen Mary.
An
act now followed of the blackest ingratitude, and at which a pagan would blush.
It has been recited, that a tumult was
occasioned by Mr. Bourne's (then bishop of Bath) preaching at St. Paul's
Cross; the indignation of the people placed his life in imminent danger; indeed a dagger was thrown at him.
In this situation he entreated Mr. Bradford, who stood
behind him. to speak in his place, and assuage the
tumult. The people welcomed Mr. Bradford, and the latter afterward kept close
to him, that his presence might prevent the populace from renewing their
assaults.
The
same Sunday in the afternoon, Mr. Bradford preached at Bow Church in Cheapside, and reproved the people sharply for their
seditious misdemeanor. Notwithstanding this conduct, within three days after, he was sent for to the
Tower of London, where the queen then was, to appear before the Council. There
he was charged with this act of saving Mr. Bourne,
which was called seditious, and they also objected
against him for preaching. Thus he was committed,
first to the Tower, then to other prisons, and, after his condemnation, to the
Poultry Compter, where he preached twice a day continually, unless sickness
hindered him. Such as his credit with the keeper of the king's Bench, that he
permitted him in an evening to visit a poor, sick person near the steel-yard, upon his promise to return in time, and in this
he never failed.
The
night before he was sent to Newgate, he was troubled in his sleep by foreboding dreams, that on
Monday after he should be burned in Smithfield. In the
afternoon the keeper's wife came up and announced this
dreadful news to him, but in him it excited only thankfulness to God. At night
half a dozen friends came, with whom he spent all the evening
in prayer and godly exercises.
When
he was removed to Newgate, a weeping crowd accompanied
him, and a rumor having been spread that he was to
suffer at four the next morning, an immense multitude attended. At nine o'clock
Mr. Bradford was brought into Smithfield. The cruelty
of the sheriff deserves notice; for his brother-in-law, Roger Beswick, having
taken him by the hand as he passed, Mr. Woodroffe, with his staff, cut his head
open.
Mr.
Bradford, being come to the place, fell flat on the ground, and putting off his
clothes unto the shirt, he went to the stake, and there suffered with a young
man of twenty years of age, whose name was John Leaf, an apprentice to Mr.
Humphrey Gaudy, tallow-chandler, of Christ-church, London. Upon Friday before
Palm Sunday, he was committed to the Compter in Bread-street,
and afterward examined and condemned by the bloody bishop.
It
is reported of him, that, when the bill of his confession was read unto him,
instead of pen, he took a pin, and pricking his hand, sprinkled the blood upon
the said bill, desiring the reader thereof to show the bishop that he had
sealed the same bill with his blood already.
They
both ended this mortal life, July 12, 1555, like two lambs, without any
alteration of their countenances, hoping to obtain that prize they had long run
for; to which may Almighty God conduct us all, through the merits of Christ our
Savior!
We
shall conclude this article with mentioning that Mr.
Sheriff
Woodroffe, it is said, within half a year after, was struck on the right side with a palsy, and for the space
of eight years after, (until his dying day,) he was unable to turn himself in
his bed; thus he became at last a fearful object to
behold.
The
day after Mr. Bradford and John Leaf suffered in Smithfield William Minge, priest, died in prison at Maidstone. With as great
constancy and boldness he yielded up his life in prison, as if it had pleased
God to have called him to suffer by fire, as other godly men had done before at
the stake, and as he himself was ready to do, had it pleased God to have called
him to this trial.
These Christian
persons were all burnt at Canterbury for the same cause. Frankesh and Bland
were ministers and preachers of the Word of God, the one being parson of
Adesham, and the other vicar of Rolvenden. Mr. Bland was
cited to answer for his opposition to antichristianism, and underwent several examinations before Dr. Harpsfield, archdeacon of
Canterbury, and finally on the twenty-fifth of June,
1555, again withstanding the power of the pope, he was
condemned, and delivered to the secular arm. On the same day were condemned John Frankesh, Nicholas Shetterden, Humphrey
Middleton, Thacker, and Crocker, of whom Thacker only recanted.
Being
delivered to the secular power, Mr. Bland, with the three former, were all
burnt together at Canterbury, July 12, 1555, at two several stakes, but in one
fire, when they, in the sight of God and His angels, and before men, like true
soldiers of Jesus Christ, gave a constant testimony to the truth of His holy
Gospel.
The twenty-second of July,
1555, Dirick Carver, brewer, of Brighthelmstone, aged forty, was
burnt at Lewes. And the day following John Launder, husbandman, aged
twenty-five, of Godstone, Surrey, was burnt at
Stening.
Dirick
Carver was a man whom the Lord had blessed as well with temporal riches as with
his spiritual treasures. At his coming into the town of Lewes to be burnt, the people called to him, beseeching God to
strengthen him in the faith of Jesus Christ; and, as he came to the stake, he
knelt down, and prayed earnestly. Then his Book was thrown into the barrel, and when he had stripped
himself, he too, went into a barrel. As soon as he was in, he took the Book,
and threw it among the people, upon which the sheriff commanded, in the name of
the king and queen, on pain of death , to throw in the Book again. And
immediately the holy martyr began to address the people. After he had prayed a
while, he said, "O Lord my God, Thou hast written, he that will not forsake
wife, children, house, and every thing that he hath,
and take up Thy cross and follow Thee, is not worthy of Thee! but Thou, Lord,
knowest that I have forsaken all to come unto Thee. Lord, have mercy upon me,
for unto Thee I commend my spirit! and my soul doth rejoice in Thee!"
These were the last words of this faithful servant of Christ before enduring
the fire. And when the fire came to him, he cried, "O Lord, have mercy
upon me!" and sprang up in the fire, calling upon the name of Jesus, until
he gave up the ghost.
James
Abbes. This young man wandered about to escape apprehension, but was at last
informed against, and brought before the bishop of Norwich, who influenced him
to recant; to secure him further in apostasy, the bishop afterward gave him a
piece of money; but the interference of Providence is here remarkable. This
bribe lay so heavily upon his conscience, that he returned, threw back the
money, and repented of his conduct. Like Peter, he was contrite, steadfast in
the faith, and sealed it with his blood at Bury, August 2, 1555, praising and
glorifying God.
Mr. Denley and
Newman were returning one day to Maidstone, the place of their abode, when they
were met by E. Tyrrel, Esq., a bigoted justice of the
peace in Essex, and a cruel persecutor of the Protestants. He apprehended them
merely on suspicion. On the fifth of July, 1555, they were condemned, and consigned to the sheriffs, who sent Mr.
Denley to Uxbridge, where he perished, August eighth, 1555. While suffering in
agony, and singing a Psalm, Dr. Story inhumanly ordered one of the tormentors
to throw a fagot at him, which cut his face severely, caused him to cease
singing, and to raise his hands to his face. Just as Dr. Story was remarking in
jest that he had spoiled a good song, the pious martyr again changed, spread
his hands abroad in the flames, and through Christ Jesus resigned his soul into
the hands of his Maker.
Mr.
Packingham suffered at the same town on the twenty-eighth
of the same month.
Mr.
Newman, pewterer, was burnt at Saffron Waldon, in
Essex, August 31, for the same cause, and Richard Hook
about the same time perished at Chichester.
These persons all
of Kent, were examined at the same time with Mr. Bland
and Shetterden, by Thornton, bishop of Dover, Dr. Harpsfield, and others. These
six martyrs and witnesses of the truth were consigned
to the flames in Canterbury, at the end of August,
1555.
Elizabeth
Warne, widow of John Warne, upholsterer, martyr, was burnt
at Stratford-le-bow, near London, at the end of August,
1555.
George
Tankerfield, of London, cook, born at York, aged twenty-seven, in the reign of
Edward VI had been a papist; but the cruelty of bloody Mary made him suspect
the truth of those doctrines which were enforced by
fire and torture. Tankerfield was imprisoned in
Newgate about the end of February, 1555, and on August
26, at St. Alban's, he braved the excruciating fire, and
joyfully died for the glory of his Redeemer.
Rev.
Robert Smith was first in the service of Sir T. Smith, provost of Eton; and was afterward removed to Windsor, where he had a clerkship
of ten pounds a year.
He was condemned, July 12, 1555, and suffered August 8, at
Uxbridge. He doubted not but that God would give the spectators some token in
support of his own cause; this actually happened; for, when he was nearly half
burnt, and supposed to be dead, he suddenly rose up, moved the remaining parts
of his arms and praised God, then, hanging over the fire, he sweetly slept in
the Lord Jesus.
Mr.
Stephen Harwood and Mr. Thomas Fust suffered about the same time with Smith and
Tankerfield, with whom they were condemned. Mr.
William Hale also, of Thorp, in Essex, was sent to
Barnet, where about the same time he joined the
ever-blessed company of martyrs.
George
King, Thomas Leyes, and John Wade, falling sick in Lollard's Tower, were removed to different houses, and died. Their bodies were thrown out in the common fields as unworthy of burial, and lay until the faithful conveyed them away at
night.
Mr.
William Andrew of Horseley, Essex, was imprisoned in
Newgate for heresy; but God chose to call him to himself by the severe
treatment he endured in Newgate, and thus to mock the sanguinary expectations
of his Catholic persecutors. His body was thrown into
the open air, but his soul was received into the
everlasting mansions of his heavenly Creator.
This gentleman was
minister of Bradford, Suffolk, where he industriously taught the flock
committed to his charge, while he was openly permitted
to discharge his duty. He was first persecuted by Mr. Foster,
of Copdock, near Ipswich, a severe and bigoted persecutor of the followers of
Christ, according to the truth in the Gospel. Notwithstanding Mr. Samuel was ejected from his living, he continued to exhort and
instruct privately; nor would he obey the order for putting away his wife, whom
he had married in King Edward's reign; but kept her at Ipswich, where Foster,
by warrant, surprised him by night with her. After being
imprisoned in Ipswich jail, he was taken before
Dr. Hopton, bishop of Norwich, and Dr. Dunnings, his chancellor, two of the
most sanguinary among the bigots of those days. To intimidate the worthy
pastor, he was in prison chained to a post in such a manner that the weight of
his body was supported by the points of his toes: added to this his allowance
of provision was reduced to a quantity so insufficient to sustain nature that
he was almost ready to devour his own flesh. From this dreadful extremity there
was even a degree of mercy in ordering him to the fire. Mr. Samuel suffered
August 31, 1555.
These reverend
prelates suffered October 17, 5555, at Oxford, on the same day Wolsey and Pygot
perished at Ely. Pillars of the Church and accomplished ornaments of human
nature, they were the admiration of the realm, amiably
conspicuous in their lives, and glorious in their deaths.
Dr.
Ridley was born in Northumberland, was first taught grammar at Newcastle, and
afterward removed to Cambridge, where his aptitude in
education raised him gradually until he came to be the head of Pembroke
College, where he received the title of Doctor of Divinity. Having returned
from a trip to Paris, he was appointed chaplain by
Henry VIII and bishop of Rochester, and was afterwards translated to the see of London in the time
of Edward VI.
To
his sermons the people resorted, swarming about him like bees, coveting the
sweet flowers and wholesome juice of the fruitful doctrine, which he did not
only preach, but showed the same by his life, as a glittering lanthorn to the
eyes and senses of the blind, in such pure order that his very enemies could
not reprove him in any one jot.
His
tender treatment of Dr. Heath, who was a prisoner with him during one year, in
Edward's reign, evidently proves that he had no
Catholic cruelty in his disposition. In person he was erect and well
proportioned; in temper forgiving; in self-mortification severe. His first duty
in the morning was private prayer: he remained in his study until ten o'clock,
and then attended the daily prayer used in his house. Dinner being
done, he sat about an hour, conversing
pleasantly, or playing at chess. His study next
engaged his attention, unless business or visits occurred; about five o'clock
prayers followed; and after he would recreate himself at chess for about an
hour, then retire to his study until eleven o'clock, and pray on his knees as
in the morning. In brief, he was a pattern of godliness and virtue, and such he
endeavored to make men wherever he came.
His
attentive kindness was displayed particularly to old
Mrs.
Bonner,
mother of Dr. Bonner, the cruel bishop of London. Dr. Ridley, when at his manor
at Fulham, always invited her to his house, placed her at the head of his
table, and treated her like his own mother; he did the same by Bonner's sister
and other relatives; but when Dr. Ridley was under persecution, Bonner pursued
a conduct diametrically opposite, and would have sacrificed Dr. Ridley's sister
and her husband, Mr. George Shipside, had not Providence delivered him by the
means of Dr. Heath, bishop of Worcester.
Dr.
Ridley was first in part converted by reading Bertram's book on the Sacrament,
and by his conferences with archbishop Cranmer and Peter Martyr.
When
Edward VI was removed from the throne, and the bloody
Mary succeeded, Bishop Ridley was immediately marked as an object of slaughter.
He was first sent to the Tower, and afterward, at
Oxford, was consigned to the common prison of Bocardo,
with archbishop Cranmer and Mr. Latimer. Being separated
from them, he was placed in the house of one Irish,
where he remained until the day of his martyrdom, from 1554, until October 16,
1555.
It
will easily be supposed that the conversations of these chiefs of the martyrs
were elaborate, learned, and instructive. Such indeed they
were, and equally beneficial to all their spiritual comforts. Bishop Ridley's
letters to various Christian brethren in bonds in all parts, and his
disputations with the mitered enemies of Christ, alike proved the clearness of
his head and the integrity of his heart. In a letter to Mr. Grindal, (afterward
archbishop of Canterbury,) he mentions with affection those who had preceded
him in dying for the faith, and those who were expected to suffer; he regrets
that popery is re-established in its full abomination, which he attributes to
the wrath of God, made manifest in return for the lukewarmness of the clergy
and the people in justly appreciating the blessed light of the Reformation.
This
old practiced soldier of Christ, Master Hugh Latimer, was the son of one Hugh
Latimer, of Thurkesson in the county of Leicester, a husbandman, of a good and
wealthy estimation; where also he was born and brought up until he was four
years of age, or thereabout: at which time his parents, having him as then left
for their only son, with six daughters, seeing his ready, prompt, and sharp
wit, purposed to train him up in erudition, and knowledge of good literature;
wherein he so profited in his youth at the common schools of his own country,
that at the age of fourteen years, he was sent to the University of Cambridge;
where he entered into the study of the school divinity of that day, and was
from principle a zealous observer of the Romish superstitions of the time. In
his oration when he commenced bachelor of divinity, he
inveighed against the reformer Melancthon, and openly declaimed
against good Mr. Stafford, divinity lecturer in Cambridge.
Mr.
Thomas Bilney, moved by a brotherly pity towards Mr.
Latimer,
begged to wait upon him in his study, and to explain to him the groundwork of
his (Mr. Bilney's) faith. This blessed interview effected his conversion: the
persecutor of Christ became his zealous advocate, and before Dr. Stafford died he became reconciled to him.
Once
converted, he became eager for the conversion of others, and commenced to be
public preacher, and private instructor in the university. His sermons were so
pointed against the absurdity of praying in the Latin tongue, and withholding
the oracles of salvation from the people who were to be saved by belief in
them, that he drew upon himself the pulpit animadversions of several of the
resident friars and heads of houses, whom he subsequently silenced by his
severe criticisms and eloquent arguments. This was at Christmas, 1529. At
length Dr. West preached against Mr. Latimer at Barwell
Abbey, and prohibited him from preaching again in the churches of the
university, notwithstanding which, he continued during three years to advocate
openly the cause of Christ, and even his enemies confessed the power of those
talents he possessed. Mr. Bilney remained here some time with Mr. Latimer, and thus the place where they
frequently walked together obtained the name of Heretics' Hill.
Mr.
Latimer at this time traced out the innocence of a poor woman, accused by her
husband of the murder of her child. Having preached before King Henry VIII at
Windsor, he obtained the unfortunate mother's pardon. This, with many other benevolent acts, served only to excite the spleen
of his adversaries. He was summoned before Cardinal
Wolsey for heresy, but being a strenuous supporter of the king's supremacy, in
opposition to the pope's, by favor of Lord Cromwell and Dr. Buts, (the king's
physician,) he obtained the living of West Kingston, in Wiltshire. For his
sermons here against purgatory, the immaculacy of the Virgin, and the worship
of images, he was cited to appear before Warham,
archbishop of Canterbury, and John, bishop of London. He was
required to subscribe certain articles,
expressive of his conformity to the accustomed usages; and there is reason to
think, after repeated weekly examinations, that he did subscribe, as they did
not seem to involve any important article of belief.
Guided
by Providence, he escaped the subtle nets of his persecutors, and at length,
through the powerful friends before mentioned, became bishop of Worcester, in
which function he qualified or explained away most of
the papal ceremonies he was for form's sake under the necessity of complying
with. He continued in this active and dignified employment
some years.
Beginning
afresh to set forth his plow he labored in the Lord's harvest most fruitfully,
discharging his talent as well in divers places of
this realm, as before the king at the court. In the same place of the inward
garden, which was before applied to lascivious and courtly pastimes, there he
dispensed the fruitful Word of the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ, preaching
there before the king and his whole court, to the edification of many.
He
remained a prisoner in the Tower until the coronation of Edward VI, when he was
again called to the Lord's harvest in Stamford, and many other places: he also
preached at London in the convocation house, and before the young king; indeed
he lectured twice every Sunday, regardless of his great age (then above
sixty-seven years,) and his weakness through a bruise received from the fall of
a tree. Indefatigable in his private studies, he rose to them in winter and in
summer at two o'clock in the morning.
By
the strength of his own mind, or of some inward light
from above, he had a prophetic view of what was to happen to the Church in
Mary's reign, asserting that he was doomed to suffer
for the truth, and that Winchester, then in the Tower, was
preserved for that purpose. Soon after Queen Mary was
proclaimed, a messenger was sent to summon Mr.
Latimer to town, and there is reason to believe it was wished
that he should make his escape.
Thus
Master Latimer coming up to London, through Smithfield (where merrily he said
that Smithfield had long groaned for him), was brought
before the Council, where he patiently bore all the mocks and taunts given him
by the scornful papists. He was cast into the Tower, where he, being assisted
with the heavenly grace of Christ, sustained imprisonment a long time,
notwithstanding the cruel and unmerciful handling of the lordly papists, which
thought then their kingdom would never fall; he showed himself not only
patient, but also cheerful in and above all that which they could or would work
against him. Yea, such a valiant spirit the Lord gave
him, that he was able not only to despise the terribleness of prisons and
torments, but also to laugh to scorn the doings of his enemies.
Mr.
Latimer, after remaining a long time in the Tower, was
transported to Oxford, with Cranmer and Ridley, the disputations at
which place have been already mentioned in a former
part of this work. He remained imprisoned until October, and the principal
objects of all his prayers were three-that he might stand faithful to the
doctrine he had professed, that God would restore his Gospel to England once
again, and preserve the Lady Elizabeth to be queen; all of which happened. When
he stood at the stake without the Bocardo gate, Oxford, with Dr. Ridley, and
fire was putting to the pile of fagots, he raised his eyes benignantly towards
heaven, and said, "God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted
above that ye are able." His body was forcibly
penetrated by the fire, and the blood flowed abundantly from the heart; as if to verify his constant desire that his heart's
blood might be shed in defence of the Gospel. His
polemical and friendly letters are lasting monuments of his integrity and
talents. It has been before said, that public disputation took place in April, 1554, new examinations took place in October, 1555, previous to the
degradation and condemnation of Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer. We now draw to
the conclusion of the lives of the two last.
Dr. Ridley,
the night before execution, was very facetious, had himself shaved, and called
his supper a marriage feast; he remarked upon seeing Mrs. Irish (the keeper's
wife) weep, "Though my breakfast will be somewhat sharp, my supper will be
more pleasant and sweet."
The
place of death was on the northside of the town, opposite Baliol College. Dr.
Ridley was dressed in a black gown furred, and Mr.
Latimer had a long shroud on, hanging down to his feet. Dr. Ridley, as he
passed Bocardo, looked up to see Dr. Cranmer, but the latter was then engaged
in disputation with a friar. When they came to the stake, Mr. Ridley embraced
Latimer fervently, and bid him: "Be of good heart, brother, for God will
either assuage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen us to abide it."
He then knelt by the stake, and after earnestly praying together, they had a
short private conversation. Dr. Smith then preached a short sermon against the
martyrs, who would have answered him, but were prevented
by Dr. Marshal, the vice-chancellor. Dr. Ridley then took off his gown and
tippet, and gave them to his brother-in-law, Mr. Shipside. He gave away also many trifles to his
weeping friends, and the populace were anxious to get even a fragment of his
garments. Mr. Latimer gave nothing, and from the poverty of his garb, was soon stripped to his shroud, and stood venerable and
erect, fearless of death.
Dr.
Ridley being unclothed to his shirt, the smith placed
an iron chain about their waists, and Dr. Ridley bid him fasten
it securely; his brother having tied a bag of
gunpowder about his neck, gave some also to Mr.
Latimer.
Dr.
Ridley then requested of Lord Williams, of Fame, to advocate with the queen the
cause of some poor men to whom he had, when bishop,
granted leases, but which the present bishop refused to confirm. A lighted
fagot was now laid at Dr. Ridley's feet, which caused
Mr. Latimer to say: "Be of good cheer, Ridley; and play the man. We shall
this day, by God's grace, light up such a candle in England, as I trust, will
never be put out."
When
Dr. Ridley saw the fire flaming up towards him, he cried with a wonderful loud
voice, "Lord, Lord, receive my spirit." Master Latimer, crying as
vehemently on the other side, "O Father of heaven, receive my soul!"
received the flame as it were embracing
of it. After that he had stroked his face with his hands, and as it
were, bathed them a little in the fire, he soon died (as it appeareth) with very little pain or none.
Well!
dead they are, and the reward of this world they have already. What reward
remaineth for them in heaven, the day of the Lord's glory, when he cometh with
His saints, shall declare.
In
the following month died Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester and lord
chancellor of England. This papistical monster was born at Bury, in Suffolk,
and partly educated at Cambridge. Ambitious, cruel, and bigoted, he served any
cause; he first espoused the king's part in the affair of Anne Boleyn: upon the
establishment of the Reformation he declared the supremacy of the pope an
execrable tenet; and when Queen Mary came to the crown, he entered into all her
papistical bigoted views, and became a second time bishop of Winchester. It is conjectured it was his intention to have moved the
sacrifice of Lady Elizabeth, but when he arrived at this point, it pleased God
to remove him.
It
was on the afternoon of the day when those faithful soldiers of Christ, Ridley
and Latimer, perished, that Gardiner sat down with a joyful heart to dinner.
Scarcely had he taken a few mouthfuls, when he was seized with illness, and carried to his bed, where he
lingered fifteen days in great torment, unable in any wise to evacuate, and
burnt with a devouring fever, that terminated in
death. Execrated by all good Christians, we pray the Father of mercies, that he
may receive that mercy above he never imparted below.
This martyr was the
son of a knight, born in Hampshire, and brought up at New College, Oxford,
where for several years he studied the civil law, and
became eminent in the Hebrew tongue. He was a scholar and a gentleman, zealous
in religion, fearless in disposition, and a detester of flattery. After
visiting Italy, he returned to England, affairs in King Edward's days wearing a
more promising aspect. During this reign he continued to be archdeacon of
Winchester under Dr. Poinet, who succeeded Gardiner. Upon the accession of
Mary, a convocation was summoned, in which Mr. Philpot
defended the Reformation against his ordinary, Gardiner, again made bishop of
Winchester, and soon was conducted to Bonner and other
commissioners for examination, October 2, 1555, after being eighteen months' imprisoned. Upon his demanding to see the
commission, Dr. Story cruelly observed, "I will spend both my gown and my
coat, but I will burn thee! Let him be in Lollard's
tower, (a wretched prison,) for I will sweep the king's Bench and all other
prisons of these heretics!"
Upon
Mr. Philpot's second examination, it was intimated to
him that Dr. Story had said that the lord chancellor had commanded that he
should be made away with. It is easy to foretell the
result of this inquiry. He was committed to Bonner's coal house, where he
joined company with a zealous minister of Essex, who had been induced to sign a
bill of recantation; but afterward, stung by his conscience, he asked the
bishop to let him see the instrument again, when he tore it to pieces; which
induced Bonner in a fury to strike him repeatedly, and tear away part of his
beard. Mr. Philpot had a private interview with Bonner the same night, and was then remanded to his
bed of straw like other prisoners, in the coal house. After seven examinations,
Bonner ordered him to be set in the stocks, and on the following Sunday
separated him from his fellow-prisoners as a sower of heresy, and ordered him
up to a room near the battlements of St. Paul's, eight feet by thirteen, on the
other side of Lollard's tower, and which could be overlooked by any one in the bishop's outer gallery. Here Mr. Philpot was searched, but happily he was successful in secreting some letters containing his examinations.
In
the eleventh investigation before various bishops, and Mr.
Morgan,
of Oxford, the latter was so driven into a corner by the close pressure of Mr.
Philpot's arguments, that he said to him, "Instead of the spirit of the
Gospel which you boast to possess, I think it is the spirit of the buttery,
which your fellows have had, who were drunk before their death, and went, I
believe, drunken to it." To this unfounded and brutish remark, Mr. Philpot
indignantly replied, "It appeareth by your communication that you are
better acquainted with that spirit than the Spirit of God; wherefore I tell
thee, thou painted wall and hypocrite, in the name of the living God, whose
truth I have told thee, that God shall rain fire and brimstone upon such
blasphemers as thou art!" He was then remanded by
Bonner, with an order not to allow him his Bible nor candlelight.
On
December 4, Mr. Philpot had his next hearing, and this was followed by two
more, making in all, fourteen conferences, previous to the final examination in
which he was condemned; such were the perseverance and anxiety of the
Catholics, aided by the argumentative abilities of the most distinguished of
the papal bishops, to bring him into the pale of their Church. Those
examinations, which were very long and learned, were
all written down by Mr. Philpot, and a stronger proof of the imbecility of the
Catholic doctors, cannot, to an unbiased mind, be exhibited.
On
December 16, in the consistory of St. Paul's Bishop Bonner, after laying some trifling accusations to his charge, such as secreting
powder to make ink, writing some private letters, etc., proceeded to pass the awful sentence upon him, after
he and the other bishops had urged him by every inducement to recant. He was afterward conducted to Newgate, where the avaricious
Catholic keeper loaded him with heavy irons, which by the humanity of Mr.
Macham were ordered to be taken
off. On December 17, Mr. Philpot received intimation that he was to die next
day, and the next morning about eight o'clock, he
joyfully met the sheriffs, who were to attend him to the place of execution.
Upon
entering Smithfield, the ground was so muddy that two officers offered to carry
him to the stake, but he replied:
"Would
you make me a pope? I am content to finish my journey on foot." Arriving
at the stake, he said, "Shall I disdain to suffer at the stake, when my
Redeemer did not refuse to suffer the most vile death
upon the cross for me?" He then meekly recited the One hundred and seventh
and One hundred and eighth Psalms, and when he had finished his prayers, was
bound to the post, and fire applied to the pile. On December 18, 1555, perished
this illustrious martyr, reverenced by man, and glorified in heaven!
These five martyrs
suffered together, January 31, 1556. John Lomas was a young man of Tenterden.
He was cited to appear at Catnerbury,
and was examined January 17. His answers being adverse to the idolatrous doctrine of the papacy, he was condemned on the following day, and
suffered January 31.
Agnes
Snoth, widow, of Smarden Parish, was several times summoned before the Catholic
Pharisees, and rejecting absolution, indulgences, transubstantiation, and
auricular confession, she was adjudged worthy to suffer death, and endured
martyrdom, January 31, with Anne Wright and Joan Sole, who were placed in
similar circumstances, and perished at the same time, with equal resignation.
Joan Catmer, the last of this heavenly company, of the parish Hithe, was the
wife of the martyr George Catmer.
Seldom
in any country, for political controversy, have four women been
led to execution, whose lives were irreproachable, and whom the pity of
savages would have spared. We cannot but remark here that, when the Protestant
power first gained the ascendency over the Catholic superstition, and some
degree of force in the laws was necessary to enforce uniformity, whence some
bigoted people suffered privation in their person or goods, we read of few
burnings, savage cruelties, or poor women brought to the stake, but it is the
nature of error to resort to force instead of argument, and to silence truth by
taking away existence, of which the Redeemer himself is an instance.
The
above five persons were burnt at two stakes in one
fire, singing hosannahs to the glorified Savior, until the breath of life was
extinct. Sir John Norton, who was present, wept bitterly at their unmerited
sufferings.
Dr. Thomas Cranmer was descended from an ancient family, and was born at the village of Arselacton, in the county of Northampton.
After the usual school education he was
sent to Cambridge, and was
chosen fellow Jesus College. Here he married a gentleman's daughter, by
which he forfeited his fellowship, and became a reader in Buckingham College,
placing his wife at the Dolphin Inn, the landlady of which was a relation of
hers, whence arose the idle report that he was an ostler. His lady shortly after dying in childbed; to
his credit he was re-chosen a fellow of the college before mentioned. In a few
years after, he was promoted to be Divinity Lecturer, and appointed one of the examiners over those who
were ripe to become Bachelors or Doctors in Divinity. It was his principle to
judge of their qualifications by the knowledge they possessed of the
Scriptures, rather than of the ancient fathers, and hence many
popish priests were rejected, and others rendered much improved.
He
was strongly solicited by Dr. Capon to be one of the fellows on
the foundation of Cardinal Wolsey's college, Oxford, of which he hazarded the
refusal. While he continued in Cambridge, the question of Henry VIII's divorce
with Catharine was agitated. At that time, on account
of the plague, Dr. Cranmer removed to the house of a
Mr. Cressy, at Waltham Abbey, whose two sons were then educating under him. The
affair of divorce, contrary to the king's approbation, had remained undecided above two or three years, from the intrigues of the
canonists and civilians, and though the cardinals Campeius and Wolsey were commissioned from Rome to decide the question, they
purposely protracted the sentence.
It
happened that Dr. Gardiner (secretary) and Dr. Fox, defenders of the king in
the above suit, came to the house of Mr. Cressy to lodge, while the king removed to Greenwich. At supper, a conversation ensued with
Dr. Cranmer, who suggested that the question whether a man may marry his
brother's wife or not, could be easily and speedily decided
by the Word of God, and this as well in the English courts as in those of any
foreign nation. The king, uneasy at the delay, sent for
Dr. Gardiner and Dr. Fox to consult them, regretting that a new commission must
be sent to Rome, and the suit be endlessly protracted.
Upon relating to the king the conversation which had
passed on the previous evening with Dr. Cranmer, his majesty sent for him, and opened the tenderness of conscience upon the near
affinity of the queen. Dr. Cranmer advised that the matter should be referred
to the most learned divines of Cambridge and Oxford, as he was unwilling to
meddle in an affair of such weight; but the king enjoined him to deliver his
sentiments in writing, and to repair for that purpose to the earl of
Wiltshire's, who would accommodate him with books, and everything requisite for
the occasion.
This
Dr. Cranmer immediately did, and in his declaration not only quoted the
authority of the Scriptures, of general councils, and the ancient writers, but
maintained that the bishop of Rome had no authority whatever to dispense with
the Word of God. The king asked him if he would stand by this bold declaration,
to which replying in the affirmative, he was deputed ambassador to Rome, in
conjunction with the earl of Wiltshire, Dr. Stokesley, Dr. Carne, Dr. Bennet,
and others, previous to which, the marriage was discussed in most of the
universities of Christendom and at home.
When
the pope presented his toe to be kissed, as customary,
the earl of Wiltshire and his party refused. Indeed, it is
affirmed that a spaniel of the earl's attracted by the littler of the
pope's toe, made a snap at it, whence his holiness drew in his sacred foot, and
kicked at the offender with the other.
Upon
the pope demanding the cause of their embassy, the earl presented Dr. Cranmer's
book, declaring that his learned friends had come to defend it. The pope
treated the embassy honorably, and appointed a day for the discussion, which he
delayed, as if afraid of the issue of the investigation. The earl returned, and
Dr. Cranmer, by the king's desire, visited the emperor, and was successful in
bringing him over to his opinion. Upon the doctor's return to England, Dr.
Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, having quitted this
transitory life, Dr. Cranmer was deservedly, and by Dr. Warham's desire,
elevated to that eminent station.
In
this function, it may be said that he followed closely
the charge of St. Paul. Diligent in duty, he rose at five in the morning, and continued in study and prayer until nine:
between then and dinner, he devoted to temporal
affairs. After dinner, if any suitors wanted hearing,
he would determine their business with such an affability that even the
defaulters were scarcely displeased. Then he would play at
chess for an hour, or see others play, and at five o'clock he heard the Common
Prayer read, and from this until supper he took the recreation of walking. At supper his conversation was lively and entertaining; again he walked or amused himself until nine o'clock, and then entered his study.
He
ranked high in favor with King Henry, and even had the
purity and the interest of the English Church deeply at heart. His mild and
forgiving disposition is recorded in the following
instance. An ignorant priest, in the country, had called Cranmer an ostler, and
spoken very derogatory of his learning. Lord Cromwell receiving information of
it, the man was sent to the Fleet, and his case was told to the archbishop by a Mr. Chertsey, a grocer, and
a relation of the priest's. His grace, having sent for the offender, reasoned
with him, and solicited the priest to question him on any learned subject. This
the man, overcome by the bishop's good nature, and knowing his own glaring
incapacity, declined, and entreated his forgiveness, which was immediately
granted, with a charge to employ his time better when he returned to his
parish. Cromwell was much vexed at the lenity displayed, but the bishop was
ever more ready to receive injury than to retaliate in any other manner than by
good advice and good offices.
At
the time that Cranmer was raised to be archbishop, he
was king's chaplain, and archdeacon of Taunton; he was also
constituted by the pope the penitentiary general of England. It was considered by the king that Cranmer would be
obsequious; hence the latter married the king to Anne Boleyn, performed her
coronation, stood godfather to Elizabeth, the first child, and divorced the
king from Catharine. Though Cranmer received a confirmation of his dignity from
the pope, he always protested against acknowledging
any other authority than the king's, and he persisted
in the same independent sentiments when before Mary's commissioners in 1555.
One
of the first steps after the divorce was to prevent preaching throughout his
diocese, but this narrow measure had rather a
political view than a religious one, as there were many
who inveighed against the king's conduct. In his new dignity Cranmer agitated
the question of supremacy, and by his powerful and just arguments induced the
parliament to "render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's." During
Cranmer's residence in Germany, 1531, he became acquainted with Ossiander, at
Nuremberg, and married his niece, but left her with him while on his return to
England. After a season he sent for her privately, and she remained with him until the year 1539, when the Six Articles compelled him to
return her to her friends for a time.
It
should be remembered that Ossiander, having obtained
the approbation of his friend Cranmer, published the laborious work of the
Harmony of the Gospels in 1537. In 1534 the archbishop completed the dearest
wish of his heart, the removal of every obstacle to the perfection of the
Reformation, by the subscription of the nobles and bishops to the king's sole
supremacy. Only Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More made objection; and their
agreement not to oppose the succession Cranmer was willing to consider at sufficient,
but the monarch would have no other than an entire concession.
Not
long after, Gardiner, in a private interview with the king, spoke inimically of
Cranmer, (whom he maliciously hated) for assuming the title of primate of all
England, as derogatory to the supremacy of the king. This created much jealousy against Cranmer, and his translation of the
Bible was strongly opposed by Stokesley, bishop of
London. It is said, upon the demise of Queen Catharine, that her successor Anne
Boleyn rejoiced-a lesson this to show how shallow is the human judgment! since
her own execution took place in the spring of the following year, and the king,
on the day following the beheading of this sacrificed lady, married the
beautiful Jane Seymour, a maid of honor to the late queen. Cranmer was ever the
friend of Anne Boleyn, but it was dangerous to oppose the will of the carnal
tyrannical monarch.
In
1538, the Holy Scriptures were openly exposed to sale;
and the places of worship overflowed everywhere to hear its
holy doctrines expounded. Upon the king's passing into a law the famous Six
Articles, which went nearly again to establish the essential tenets of the
Romish creed, Cranmer shone forth with all the luster of a Christian patriot,
in resisting the doctrines they contained, and in which he was supported by the
bishops of Sarum, Worcester, Ely, and Rochester, the two former of whom
resigned their bishoprics. The king, though now in opposition to Cranmer, still
revered the sincerity that marked his conduct. The death of Lord Cromwell in
the Tower, in 1540, the good friend of Cranmer, was a severe blow to the
wavering Protestant cause, but even now Cranmer, when he saw the tide directly
adverse to the truth, boldly waited on the king in person, and by his manly and
heartfelt pleading, caused the Book of Articles to be passed on his side, to
the great confusion of his enemies, who had contemplated his fall as
inevitable.
Cranmer
now lived in as secluded a manner as possible, until the rancor of Winchester
preferred some articles against him, relative to the
dangerous opinion he taught in his family, joined to other treasonable charges.
These the king himself delivered to Cranmer, and believing firmly the fidelity
and assertions of innocence of the accused prelate, he caused the matter to be deeply investigated, and Winchester and Dr. Lenden, with
Thornton and Barber, of the bishop's household, were found
by the papers to be the real conspirators. The mild, forgiving Cranmer would
have interceded for all remission of publishment, had not Henry, pleased with
the subsidy voted by parliament, let them be discharged.
These nefarious men, however, again renewing their plots against Cranmer, fell
victims to Henry's resentment, and Gardiner forever lost his confidence. Sir G.
Gostwick soon after laid charges against the archbishop, which Henry quashed,
and the primate was willing to forgive.
In
1544, the archbishop's palace at Canterbury was burnt,
and his brother-in-law with others perished in it. These various afflictions
may serve to reconcile us to a humble state; for of what happiness could this
great and good man boast, since his life was constantly
harassed either by political, religious, or natural crosses? Again the
inveterate Gardiner laid high charges against the meek archbishop and would
have sent him to the Tower; but the king was his friend, gave him his signet
that he might defend him, and in the Council not only declared the bishop one
of the best affected men in his realm, but sharply rebuked his accusers for
their calumny.
A
peace having been made, Henry, and the French king, Henry the Great, were
unanimous to have the Mass abolished in their kingdom, and Cranmer set about
this great work; but the death of the English monarch, in 1546, suspended the procedure,
and King Edward his successor continued Cranmer in the same functions, upon
whose coronation he delivered a charge that will ever honor his memory, for its
purity, freedom, and truth. During this reign he prosecuted the glorious
Reformation with unabated zeal, even in the year 1552, when he was seized with a severe ague, from which it pleased God to
restore him that he might testify by his death the truth of that seed he had
diligently sown.
The
death of Edward, in 1553, exposed Cranmer to all the rage of his enemies.
Though the archbishop was among those who supported Mary's accession, he was attainted at the meeting of parliament, and in November
adjudged guilty of high treason at Guildhall, and
degraded from his dignities. He sent a humble letter to Mary, explaining the
cause of his signing the will in favor of Edward, and in 1554 he wrote to the
Council, whom he pressed to obtain a pardon from the queen, by a letter
delivered to Dr. Weston, but which the letter opened, and on seeing its
contents, basely returned.
Treason
was a charge quite inapplicable to Cranmer, who supported the queen's right;
while others, who had favored Lady Jane were dismissed
upon paying a small fine. A calumny was now spread
against Cranmer that he complied with some of the
popish ceremonies to ingratiate himself with the queen, which he dared publicly
to disavow, and justified his articles of faith. The active part which the
prelate had taken in the divorce of Mary's mother had ever rankled deeply in
the heart of the queen, and revenge formed a prominent feature in the death of
Cranmer.
We
have in this work noticed the public disputations at
Oxford, in which the talents of Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer shone so
conspicuously, and tended to their condemnation. The first sentence was
illegal, inasmuch as the usurped power of the pope had
not yet been re-established by law.
Being
kept in prison until this was effected,
a commission was despatched from Rome, appointing Dr. Brooks to sit as the
representative of his holiness, and Drs. Story and Martin as those of the
queen. Cranmer was willing to bow to the authority of Drs. Story and Martin,
but against that of Dr. Brooks he protested. Such were the remarks and replies
of Cranmer, after a long examination, that Dr. Broks observed, "We come to
examine you, and methinks you examine us."
Being
sent back to confinement, he received a citation to appear at
Rome within eighteen days, but this was impracticable, as he was
imprisoned in England; and as he stated, even had he been at liberty, he
was too poor to employ an advocate. Absurd as it must appear, Cranmer was condemned at Rome, and on February 14, 1556, a new
commission was appointed, by which, Thirlby, bishop of
Ely, and Bonner, of London, were deputed to sit in
judgment at Christ-church, Oxford. By virtue of this
instrument, Cranmer was gradually degraded, by putting
mere rags on him to represent the dress of an archbishop; then stripping him of his attire, they took off his own gown,
and put an old worn one upon him instead. This he bore unmoved, and his
enemies, finding that severity only rendered him more determined, tried the
opposite course, and placed him in the house of the dean of Christ-church,
where he was treated with every indulgence.
This
presented such a contrast to the three years' hard imprisonment he had
received, that it threw him off his guard. His open, generous nature was more
easily to be seduced by a liberal
conduct than by threats and fetters. When Satan finds the Christian proof
against one mode of attack, he tries another; and what form is so seductive as
smiles, rewards, and power, after a long, painful imprisonment? Thus it was with Cranmer: his enemies promised him his
former greatness if he would but recant, as well as the queen's favor, and this
at the very time they knew that his death was determined in council. To soften
the path to apostasy, the first paper brought for his signature was conceived in general terms; this once signed, five
others were obtained as explanatory of the first,
until finally he put his hand to the following detestable instrument:
"I,
Thomas Cranmer, late archbishop of Canterbury, do renounce, abhor, and detest
all manner of heresies and errors of Luther and Zuinglius, and all other
teachings which are contrary to sound and true doctrine. And I believe most
constantly in my heart, and with my mouth I confess one holy and Catholic
Church visible, without which there is no salvation; and therefore I
acknowledge the Bishop of Rome to be supreme head on earth, whom I acknowledge
to be the highest bishop and pope, and Christ's vicar, unto whom all Christian
people ought to be subject.
"And
as concerning the sacraments, I believe and worship int he sacrament of the
altar the body and blood of Christ, being contained most truly under the forms
of bread and wine; the bread, through the mighty power of God being turned into
the body of our Savior Jesus Christ, and the wine into his blood.
"And
in the other six sacraments, also, (alike as in this)
I believe and hold as the universal Church holdeth, and the Church of Rome
judgeth and determineth.
"Furthermore,
I believe that there is a place of purgatory, where souls departed be punished
for a time, for whom the Church doth godly and wholesomely pray, like as it
doth honor saints and make prayers to them.
"Finally,
in all things I profess, that I do not otherwise believe than the Catholic
Church and the Church of Rome holdeth and teacheth. I am sorry that I ever held or thought otherwise. And I beseech Almighty God,
that of His mercy He will vouchsafe to forgive me whatsoever I have offended
against God or His Church, and also I desire and
beseech all Christian people to pray for me.
"And
all such as have been deceived either by mine example or doctrine, I require
them by the blood of Jesus Christ that they will return to the unity of the
Church, that we may be all of one mind, without schism or division.
"And
to conclude, as I submit myself to the Catholic Church of Christ, and to the
supreme head thereof, so I submit myself unto the most excellent majesties of
Philip and Mary, king and queen of this realm of England, etc., and to all
other their laws and ordinances, being ready always as a faithful subject ever
to obey them. And God is my witness, that I have not done this for favor or
fear of any person, but willingly and of mine own conscience, as to the
instruction of others."
"Let
him that standeth take heed lest he fall!" said the apostle, and here was
a falling off indeed! The papists now triumphed in their turn: they had
acquired all they wanted short of his life. His recantation was immediately
printed and dispersed, that it might have its due effect upon the astonished
Protestants. But God counter worked all the designs of the Catholics by the
extent to which they carried the implacable persecution of their prey.
Doubtless, the love of life induced Cranmer to sign the above declaration: yet
death may be said to have been preferable to life to
him who lay under the stings of a goaded conscience and the contempt of every
Gospel Christian; this principle he strongly felt in all its force and anguish.
The
queen's revenge was only to be satiated by Cranmer's
blood, and therefore she wrote an order to Dr. Pole, to prepare a sermon to be preached March 21, directly before his martyrdom, at St.
Mary's, Oxford. Dr. Pole visited him the day previous, and
was induced to believe that he would publicly deliver
his sentiments in confirmation of the articles to which he had subscribed.
About nine in the morning of the day of sacrifice, the queen's commissioners,
attended by the magistrates, conducted the amiable unfortunate to St. Mary's
Church. His torn, dirty garb, the same in which they habited him upon his
degradation, excited the commiseration of the people. In the church he found a
low mean stage, erected opposite to the pulpit, on which being
placed, he turned his face, and fervently
prayed to God.
The
church was crowded with persons of both persuasions,
expecting to hear the justification of the late apostasy: the Catholics
rejoicing, and the Protestants deeply wounded in spirit at the deceit of the
human heart. Dr. Pole, in his sermon, represented Cranmer as having been guilty
of the most atrocious crimes; encouraged the deluded sufferer not to fear
death, not to doubt the support of God in his torments, nor that Masses would be said in all the churches of Oxford for the repose of his
soul. The doctor then noticed his conversion, and which he ascribed to the
evident working of Almighty power and in order that the people might be
convinced of its reality, asked the prisoner to give them a sign. This Cranmer
did, and begged the congregation to pray for him, for he had committed many and grievous sins; but, of all, there was one which
awfully lay upon his mind, of which he would speak shortly.
During
the sermon Cranmer wept bitter tears: lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven,
and letting them fall, as if unworthy to live: his grief now found vent in
words: before his confession he fell upon his knees, and, in the following
words unveiled the deep contrition and agitation which harrowed up his soul.
"O Father of heaven! O Son of God, Redeemer of the world! O
Holy Ghost, three persons all one God! have mercy on me, most wretched caitiff
and miserable sinner. I have offended both against heaven and earth, more than
my tongue can express. Whither then may I go, or whither
may I flee? To heaven I may be ashamed to lift up mine eyes and in earth I find no
place of refuge or succor. To Thee, therefore, O Lord, do I run; to Thee do I
humble myself, saying, O Lord, my God, my sins be great, but
yet have mercy upon me for Thy great mercy. The great mystery that God
became man, was not wrought for little or few
offences. Thou didst not give Thy Son, O Heavenly Father, unto death for small
sins only, but for all the greatest sins of the world, so that the sinner
return to Thee with his whole heart, as I do at present. Wherefore, have mercy
on me, O God, whose property is always to have mercy, have mercy upon me, O
Lord, for Thy great mercy. I crave nothing for my own merits, but for Thy
name's sake, that it may be hallowed thereby, and for
Thy dear Son, Jesus Christ's sake. And now therefore, O Father of Heaven,
hallowed be Thy name," etc.
Then
rising, he said he was desirous before his death to give them some pious exhortations by which God might be glorified and themselves edified. He then descanted upon
the danger of a love for the world, the duty of obedience to their majesties,
of love to one another and the necessity of the rich
administering to the wants of the poor. He quoted the three verses of the fifth
chapter of James, and then proceeded, "Let them that be rich ponder well these three sentences: for if they ever had
occasion to show their charity, they have it now at this present, the poor
people being so many, and victual so dear.
"And
now forasmuch as I am come to the last end of my life, whereupon hangeth all my
life past, and all my life to come, either to live with my master Christ for ever in joy, or else to be in pain for ever with the
wicked in hell, and I see before mine eyes presently, either heaven ready to
receive me, or else hell ready to swallow me up; I shall therefore declare unto
you my very faith how I believe, without any color of dissimulation: for now is
no time to dissemble, whatsoever I have said or written in times past.
"First,
I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, etc. And I believe every article of the Catholic faith,
every word and sentence taught by our Savior Jesus Christ, His apostles and prophets, in the New and Old Testament.
"And
now I come to the great thing which so much troubleth my conscience, more than
any thing that ever I did or said in my whole life, and that is the setting
abroad of a writing contrary to the truth, which now here I renounce and
refuse, as things written with my hand contrary to the truth which I thought in
my heart, and written for fear of death, and to save my life, if it might be;
and that is, all such bills or papers which I have written or signed with my
hand since my degradation, wherein I have written many things untrue. And forasmuch as my hand hath offended, writing contrary to
my heart, therefore my hand shall first be punished;
for when I come to the fire it shall first be burned.
"And
as for the pope, I refuse him as Christ's enemy, and Antichrist, with all his
false doctrine."
Upon
the conclusion of this unexpected declaration, amazement and indignation were
conspicuous in every part of the church. The Catholics were
completely foiled, their object being frustrated, Cranmer, like Samson,
having completed a greater ruin upon his enemies in the hour of death, than he
did in his life.
Cranmer
would have proceeded in the exposure of the popish doctrines, but the murmurs
of the idolaters drowned his voice, and the preacher gave an order to
"lead the heretic away!" The savage command was
directly obeyed, and the lamb about to suffer was torn from his stand to
the place of slaughter, insulted all the way by the revilings and taunts of the
pestilent monks and friars.
With
thoughts intent upon a far higher object than the empty threats of man, he
reached the spot dyed with the blood of Ridley and Latimer. There he knelt for a short time in earnest devotion, and then arose, that he
might undress and prepare for the fire. Two friars who had been parties in
prevailing upon him to abjure, now endeavored to draw him off again from the
truth, but he was steadfast and immovable in what he had just professed, and
publicly taught. A chain was provided to bind him to
the stake, and after it had tightly encircled him, fire was
put to the fuel, and the flames began soon to
ascend.
Then
were the glorious sentiments of the martyr made manifest; then it was, that
stretching out his right hand, he held it unshrinkingly in the fire until it was burnt to a cinder, even before his body was injured, frequently exclaiming, "This unworthy
right hand."
His
body did abide the burning with such steadfastness that he seemed to have no
more than the stake to which he was bound; his eyes were lifted up to heaven,
and he repeated "this unworthy right hand," as long as his voice
would suffer him; and using often the words of Stephen, "Lord Jesus,
receive my spirit," in the greatness of the flame, he gave up the ghost.
When Robert Samuel
was brought forth to be burned, certain there were that heard him declare what
strange things had happened unto him during the time of his imprisonment; to
wit, that after he had famished or pined with hunger two or three days together,
he then fell into a sleep, as it were one half in a slumber, at which time one
clad all in white seemed to stand before him, who ministered comfort unto him
by these words:
"Samuel,
Samuel, be of good cheer, and take a good heart unto thee: for after this day
shalt thou never be either hungry or thirsty."
No
less memorable it is, and worthy to be noted, concerning the three ladders
which he told to divers he saw in his sleep, set up toward heaven; of the which
there was one somewhat longer than the rest, but yet at length they became one,
joining (as it were) all three together.
As
this godly martyr was going to the fire, there came a certain maid to him,
which took him about the neck, and kissed him, who, being marked by them that
were present, was sought for the next day after, to be had to prison and
burned, as the very party herself informed me: howbeit, as God of His goodness
would have it, she escaped their fiery hands, keeping herself secret in the
town a good while after.
But
as this maid, called Rose Nottingham, was marvellously
preserved by the providence of God, so there were
other two honest women who did fall into the rage and fury of that time. The
one was a brewer's wife, the other was a shoemaker's wife, but both together
now espoused to a new husband, Christ.
With
these two was this maid aforesaid very familiar and well acquainted, who, on a
time giving counsel to the one of them, that she should convey herself away
while she had time and space, had this answer at her hand again: "I know
well," saith she, "that it is lawful enough to fly away; which remedy
you may use, if you list. But my case standeth
otherwise. I am tied to a husband, and have besides young children at home; therefore I am minded, for the love of Christ and His truth,
to stand to the extremity of the matter."
And so the next day after Samuel suffered, these two godly
wives, the one called Anne Potten, the other called Joan Trunchfield, the wife
of Michael Trunchfield, shoemaker, of Ipswich, were
apprehended, and had both into one prison together. As they were both by
sex and nature somewhat tender, so were they at first
less able to endure the straitness of the prison; and especially the brewer's
wife was cast into marvellous great agonies and
troubles of mind thereby. But Christ, beholding the weak infirmity of His
servant, did not fail to help her when she was in this necessity; so at the length they both suffered after Samuel, in 1556,
February 19. And these, no doubt, were those two ladders, which, being joined with the third, Samuel saw stretched up into
heaven. This blessed Samuel, the servant of Christ, suffered the thirty-first
of August, 1555.
The
report goeth among some that were there present, and
saw him burn, that his body in burning did shine in the eyes of them that stood
by, as bright and white as new-tried silver.
When
Agnes Bongeor saw herself separated from her prison-fellows, what piteous moan
that good woman made, how bitterly she wept, what strange thoughts came into
her mind, how naked and desolate she esteemed herself, and into what plunge of
despair and care her poor soul was brought, it was piteous and wonderful to
see; which all came because she went not with them to give her life in the
defence of her Christ; for of all things in the world, life was least looked
for at her hands.
For
that morning in which she was kept
back from burning, had she put on a smock, that she
had prepared only for that purpose. And also having a
child, a little young infant sucking on her, whom she kept with her tenderly
all the time that she was in prison, against that day likewise did she send
away to another nurse, and prepared herself presently
to give herself for the testimony of the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ. So
little did she look for life, and so greatly did God's gifts work in her above
nature, that death seemed a great deal better welcome than life. After which,
she began a little to stay herself, and gave her whole
exercise to reading and prayer, wherein she found no little comfort.
In a short time came a writ from
London for the burning, which according to the effect
thereof, was executed.
Here we perceive
that neither the impotence of age nor the affliction of blindness,
could turn aside the murdering fangs of these Babylonish monsters. The first of
these unfortunates was of the parish of Barking, aged sixty-eight, a painter
and a cripple. The other was blind, dark indeed in his visual faculties, but
intellectually illuminated with the radiance of the everlasting Gospel of
truth. Inoffensive objects like these were informed
against by some of the sons of bigotry, and dragged
before the prelatical shark of London, where they underwent examination, and
replied to the articles propounded to them, as other Christian martyrs had done
before. On the ninth day of May, in the consistory of St. Paul's, they were entreated to recant, and upon refusal, were sent to Fulham, where Bonner, by way of a dessert after
dinner, condemned them to the agonies of the fire. Being
consigned to the secular officers, May 15, 1556, they were
taken in a cart from Newgate to Stratford-le-Bow, where they were fastened to the stake. When Hugh Laverick was secured
by the chain, having no further occasion for his crutch, he threw it away
saying to his fellow-martyr, while consoling him, "Be of good cheer my
brother; for my lord of London is our good physician; he will heal us both
shortly-thee of thy blindness, and me of my lameness." They sank down in the fire, to rise to immortality!
The
day after the above martyrdoms, Catharine Hut, of Bocking, widow; Joan Horns,
spinster, of Billerica; Elizabeth Thackwel, spinster, of Great Burstead,
suffered death in Smithfield.
Thomas
Dowry. We have again to record an act of unpitying cruelty, exercised on this
lad, whom Bishop Hooper, had confirmed in the Lord and the knowledge of his
Word.
How
long this poor sufferer remained in prison is uncertain.
By
the testimony of one John Paylor, register of Gloucester, we learn that when
Dowry was brought before Dr. Williams, then chancellor
of Gloucester, the usual articles were presented him
for subscription. From these he dissented; and, upon the doctor's demanding of
whom and where he had learned his heresies, the youth replied, "Indeed,
Mr. Chancellor, I learned from you in that very pulpit. On such a day (naming
the day) you said, in preaching upon the Sacrament, that it was to be exercised
spiritually by faith, and not carnally and really, as taught by the
papists." Dr. Williams then bid him recant, as he had done; but Dowry had
not so learned his duty. "Though you," said he, "can so easily
mock God, the world, and your own conscience, yet will I not do so."
This poor man, of
Malden, May 26, 1556, put to sea, to lade in Lent with fuller's earth, but the
boat, being driven on land, filled with water, and
everything was washed out of her; Crow, however, saved
his Testament, and coveted nothing else. With Crow was a man and a boy, whose
awful situation became every minute more alarming, as the boat was useless, and
they were ten miles from land, expecting the tide should in a
few hours set in upon them. After prayer to God, they got upon the mast,
and hung there for the space of ten hours, when the poor boy, overcome by cold
and exhaustion, fell off, and was drowned. The tide
having abated, Crow proposed to take down the masts, and float upon them, which
they did; and at ten o'clock at night they were borne away at the mercy of the waves. On Wednesday, in
the night, Crow's companion died through the fatigue and hunger, and he was left alone, calling upon God for succor. At length he was picked up by a Captain Morse, bound to Antwerp, who had
nearly steered away, taking him for some fisherman's
buoy floating in the sea. As soon as Crow was got on
board, he put his hand in his bosom, and drew out his Testament, which indeed
was wet, but not otherwise injured. At Antwerp he was well
received, and the money he had lost was more than made good to him.
At this sacrifice,
which we are about to detail no less than thirteen were doomed to the fire.
Each
one refusing to subscribe contrary to conscience, they were
condemned, and the twenty-seventh of June,
1556, was appointed for their execution at
Stratford-le-Bow. Their constancy and faith glorified their Redeemer, equally
in life and in death.
This gentleman's
life presents a singular instance of error and conversion. In the time of
Edward, he was a rigid and obstinate papist, so adverse to godly and sincere
preaching, that he was even despised by his own party; that this frame of mind
should be changed, and he suffer persecution and death in Queen Mary's reign,
are among those events of omnipotence at which we wonder and admire.
Mr.
Palmer was born at Coventry, where his father had been
mayor. Being afterward removed to Oxford, he became,
under Mr. Harley, of Magdalen College, an elegant Latin and Greek scholar. He
was fond of useful disputation, possessed of a lively
wit, and a strong memory. Indefatigable in private study, he rose at four in
the morning, and by this practice qualified himself to become reader in logic in Magralen College. The times of Edward, however, favoring
the Reformation, Mr. Palmer became frequently punished for his contempt of
prayer and orderly behavior, and was at length expelled the house.
He
afterwards embraced the doctrines of the Reformation, which occasioned his
arrest and final condemnation.
A
certain nobleman offered him his life if he would recant.
"If
so," said he, "thou wilt dwell with me. And
if thou wilt set thy mind to marriage, I will procure thee a
wife and a farm, and help to stuff and fit thy
farm for thee. How sayst
thou?"
Palmer
thanked him very courteously, but very modestly and reverently concluded that
as he had already in two places renounced his living for Christ's sake, so he
would with God's grace be ready to surrender and yield up his life also for the
same, when God should send time.
When
Sir Richard perceived that he would by no means relent:
"Well,
Palmer," saith he, "then I perceive one of us twain shall be damned:
for we be of two faiths, and certain I am there is but one faith that leadeth
to life and salvation."
Palmer:
"O sir, I hope that we both shall be saved."
Palmer: "Right
well, sir. For as it hath pleased our merciful Savior, according to the
Gospel's parable, to call me at the third hour of the day, even in my flowers,
at the age of four and twenty years, even so I trust He hath called, and will
call you, at the eleventh hour of this your old age, and give you everlasting
life for your portion."
Sir
Richard: "Sayest thou so? Well, Palmer, well, I would I
might have thee but one month in my house: I doubt not but I would
convert thee, or thou shouldst convert me."
Then
said Master Winchcomb, "Take pity on thy golden years, and pleasant
flowers of lusty youth, before it be too late."
Palmer:
"Sir, I long for those springing flowers that shall never fade away."
He was tried on the fifteenth of July,
1556, together with one Thomas Askin, fellow prisoner. Askin and one John Guin
had been sentenced the day before, and Mr. Palmer, on
the fifteenth, was brought up for final judgment.
Execution was ordered to follow the sentence, and at
five o'clock in the same afternoon, at a place called the Sand-pits,
these three martyrs were fastened to a stake. After
devoutly praying together, they sung the Thirty-first
Psalm.
When
the fire was kindled, and it had seized their bodies,
without an appearance of enduring pain, they continued to cry, "Lord
Jesus, strengthen us! Lord Jesus receive our
souls!" until animation was suspended and human
suffering was past. It is remarkable, that, when their heads had fallen
together in a mass as it were by the force of the flames, and the spectators
thought Palmer as lifeless, his tongue and lips again moved, and were heard to
pronounce the name of Jesus, to whom be glory and honor forever!
This poor, honest
woman, blind from her birth, and unmarried, aged twenty-two, was of the parish
of Allhallows, Derby. Her father was a barber, and
also made ropes for a living: in which she assisted him, and
also learned to knit several articles of
apparel. Refusing to communicate with those who maintained doctrines contrary
to those she had learned in the days of the pious Edward, she was called before Dr. Draicot, the chancellor of Bishop
Blaine, and Peter Finch, official of Derby.
With
sophisitcal arguments and threats they endeavored to confound the poor girl;
but she proffered to yield to the bishop's doctrine, if he would answer for her
at the Day of Judgment, (as pious Dr. Taylor had done in his sermons) that his
belief of the real presence of the Sacrament was true. The bishop at first
answered that he would; but Dr. Draicot reminding him that he might not in any
way answer for a heretic, he withdrew his confirmation of his own tenets; and
she replied that if their consciences would not permit them to answer at God's
bar for that truth they wished her to subscribe to, she would answer no more
questions. Sentence was then adjudged, and Dr. Draicot
appointed to preach her condemned sermon, which took place August 1, 1556, the
day of her martyrdom. His fulminating discourse being finished, the poor,
sightless object was taken to a place called Windmill Pit, near the town, where
she for a time held her brother by the hand, and then prepared herself for the
fire, calling upon the pitying multitude to pray with her, and upon Christ to
have mercy upon her, until the glorious light of the everlasting Sun of
righteousness beamed upon her departed spirit.
In
November, fifteen martyrs were imprisoned in
Canterbury castle, of whom all were either burnt or
famished. Among the latter were J. Clark, D. Chittenden, W. Foster of Stonc,
Alice Potkins, and J. Archer, of Cranbrooke, weaver. The two
first of these had not received condemnation, but the others were sentenced to the fire. Foster, at his examination,
observed upon the utility of carrying lighted candles about on Candlemas-day,
that he might as well carry a pitchfork; and that a gibbet would have as good an
effect as the cross.
We
have now brought to a close the sanguinary proscriptions of the merciless Mary, in the year 1556, the
number of which amounted to above EIGHTY-FOUR!
The
beginning of the year 1557, was remarkable for the
visit of Cardinal Pole to the University of Cambridge, which seemed to stand in
need of much cleansing from heretical preachers and
reformed doctrines. One object was also to play the popish farce of trying
Martin Bucer and Paulus Phagius, who had been buried about three or four years;
for which purpose the churches of St. Mary and St. Michael, where they lay,
were interdicted as vile and unholy places, unfit to worship God in, until they
were perfumed and washed with the pope's holy water, etc., etc. The trumpery
act of citing these dead reformers to appear, not having had the least effect
upon them, on January 26, sentence of condemnation was passed, part of which
ran in this manner, and may serve as a specimen of proceedings of this nature:
"We therefore pronounce the said Martin Bucer and Paulus Phagius
excommunicated and anathematized, as well by the common law, as by letters of
process; and that their memory be condemned, we also condemn their bodies and
bones (which in that wicked time of schism, and other heresies flourishing in
this kingdom, were rashly buried in holy ground) to be dug up, and cast far
from the bodies and bones of the faithful, according to the holy canons, and we
command that they and their writings, if any be there found, be publicly burnt;
and we interdict all persons whatsoever of this university, town, or places
adjacent, who shall read or conceal their heretical book, as well by the common
law, as by our letters of process!"
After
the sentence thus read, the bishop commanded their bodies to be dug out of
their graves, and being degraded from holy orders, delivered them into the
hands of the secular power; for it was not lawful for such innocent persons as
they were, abhorring all bloodshed, and detesting all desire of murder, to put
any man to death.
February
6, the bodies, enclosed as they were in chests, were carried
into the midst of the market place at Cambrdige, accompanied by a vast
concourse of people. A great post was set fast in the ground, to which the
chests were affixed with a large iron chain, and bound
round their centers, in the same manner as if the dead bodies had been alive.
When the fire began to ascend, and caught the coffins, a
number of condemned books were also launched
into the flames, and burnt. Justice, however, was done to the memories of these pious and learned men in
Queen Elizabeth's reign, when Mr. Ackworth, orator of the university, and Mr.
J. Pilkington, pronounced orations in honor of their memory, and in reprobation
of their Catholic persecutors.
Cardinal
Pole also inflicted his harmless rage upon the dead body of Peter Martyr's
wife, who, by his command, was dug out of her grave, and buried on a distant
dunghill, partly because her bones lay near St. Fridewide's relics, held once
in great esteem in that college, and partly because he wished to purify Oxford
of heretical remains as well as Cambridge. In the succeeding reign, however,
her remains were restored to their former cemetery,
and even intermingled with those of the Catholic saint, to the utter
astonishment and mortification of the disciples of his holiness the pope.
Cardinal
Pole published a list of fifty-four articles, containing instructions to the
clergy of his diocese of Canterbury, some of which are
too ludicrous and puerile to excite any other sentiment than laughter in these
days.
In the month of
February, the following persons were committed to prison: R. Coleman, of
Waldon, laborer; Joan Winseley, of Horsley Magna, spinster; S. Glover, of
Rayley; R. Clerk, of Much Holland, mariner; W. Munt, of Much Bentley, sawyer;
Marg. Field, of Ramsey, spinster; R. Bongeor, currier; R. Jolley, mariner;
Allen
Simpson, Helen Ewire, C. Pepper, widow; Alice Walley (who recanted), W.
Bongeor, glazier, all of Colchester; R. Atkin, of Halstead, weaver; R. Barcock,
of Wilton, carpenter; R. George, of Westbarhonlt, laborer; R. Debnam of
Debenham, weaver; C. Warren, of Cocksall, spinster; Agnes Whitlock, of
Dover-court, spinster;
Rose
Allen, spinster; and T. Feresannes, minor; both of Colchester.
These
persons were brought before Bonner, who would have immediately sent them to
execution, but Cardinal Pole was for more merciful measures, and Bonner, in a
letter of his to the cardinal, seems to be sensible that he had displeased him,
for he has this expression: "I thought to have them all hither to Fulham,
and to have given sentence against them; nevertheless, perceiving by my last
doing that your grace was offended, I thought it my duty, before I proceeded
further, to inform your grace." This circumstance verifies the account
that the cardinal was a humane man; and though a zealous Catholic, we, as
Protestants, are willing to render him that honor which his merciful character
deserves. Some of the bitter persecutors denounced him
to the pope as a favorer of heretics, and he was summoned
to Rome, but Queen Mary, by particular entreaty,
procured his stay. However, before his latter end, and a little before his last
journey from Rome to England, he was strongly suspected
of favoring the doctrine of Luther.
As
in the last sacrifice four women did honor to the truth, so in the following
auto da fe we have the like number of females and males, who suffered June 30,
1557, at Canterbury, and were J. Fishcock, F. White, N. Pardue, Barbary Final,
widow, Bardbridge's widow, Wilson's wife, and Benden's wife.
Of
this group we shall more particularly notice Alice Benden, wife of Edward
Bender, of Staplehurst, Kent. She had been taken up in
October, 1556, for non-attendance, and released upon a
strong injunction to mind her conduct. Her husband was a bigoted Catholic, and
publicly speaking of his wife's contumacy, she was conveyed to Canterbury
Castle, where knowing, when she should be removed to the bishop's prison, she
should be almost starved upon three farthings a day, she endeavored to prepare
herself for this suffering by living upon two pence halfpenny per day.
On
January 22, 1557, her husband wrote to the bishop that if his wife's brother,
Roger Hall, were to be kept from consoling and
relieving her, she might turn; on this account, she was moved
to a prison called Monday's Hole. Her brother sought diligently for her, and at
the end of five weeks providentially heard her voice in the dungeon, but could
not otherwise relieve her, than by putting some money in a loaf, and sticking it on a long pole. Dreadful must have been the situation of this poor victim,
lying on straw, between stone walls, without a change of apparel, or the
meanest requisites of cleanliness, during a period of nine weeks!
On
March 25 she was summoned before the bishop, who, with
rewards, offered her liberty if she would go home and be comfortable; but Mrs.
Benden had been inured to suffering, and, showing him
her contracted limbs and emaciated appearance, refused to swerve from the
truth. She was however removed from this black hole to
the West Gate, whence, about the end of April, she was taken
out to be condemned, and then committed to the castle
prison until the nineteenth of June, the day of her burning. At the stake, she
gave her handkerchief to one John Banks, as a memorial; and from her waist she
drew a white lace, desiring him to give it to her brother, and tell him that it
was the last band that had bound her, except the chain; and to her father she
returned a shilling he had sent her.
The
whole of these seven martyrs undressed themselves with alacrity, and, being
prepared, knelt down, and prayed with an earnestness
and Christian spirit that even the enemies of the cross were
affected. After invocation made together, they were
secured to the stake, and, being encompassed
with the unsparing flames, they yielded their souls into the hands of the
living Lord.
Matthew
Plaise, weaver, a sincere and shrewd Christian, of Stone, Kent, was brought before Thomas, bishop of Dover, and other
inquisitors, whom he ingeniously teased by his indirect answers, of which the
following is a specimen.
Dr.
Harpsfield. Christ called the bread His body; what dost thou say it is?
Plaise.
I do believe it was that which He gave them.
Dr.
H. What as that?
P.
That which He brake.
Dr.
H. What did He brake?
P.
That which He took.
Dr.
H. What did He take?
P. I
say, what He gave them, that did they eat indeed.
Dr.
H. Well, then, thou sayest it was but bread which the disciples did eat.
P. I
say, what He gave them, that did they eat indeed.
A
very long disputation followed, in which Plaise was desired to humble
himself to the bishop; but this he refused. Whether this zealous person died in
prison, was executed, or delivered, history does not
mention.
Rev. John Hullier
was brought up at Eton College, and in process of time became curate of Babram,
three miles from Cambridge, and went afterward to Lynn; where, opposing the
superstition of the papists, he was carried before Dr. Thirlby, bishop of Ely,
and sent to Cambridge castle: here he lay for a time, and was then sent to
Tolbooth prison, where, after three months, he was brought to St. Mary's
Church, and condemned by Dr. Fuller. On Maunday Thursday he was
brought to the stake: while undressing, he told the people to bear
witness that he was about to suffer in a just cause, and
exhorted them to believe that there was no other rock than Jesus Christ to
build upon. A priest named Boyes, then desired the mayor to silence him. After
praying, he went meekly to the stake, and being bound
with a chain, and placed in a pitch barrel, fire was applied
to the reeds and wood; but the wind drove the fire directly to his back, which
caused him under the severe agony to pray the more
fervently. His friends directed the executioner to fire the pile to windward of his face, which was immediately done.
A
quantity of books were now thrown into the fire, one of which (the Communion Service)
he caught, opened it, and joyfully continued to read it, until the fire and
smoke deprived him of sight; then even, in earnest prayer, he pressed the book
to his heart, thanking God for bestowing on him in his last moments this
precious gift.
The
day being hot, the fire burnt fiercely; and at a time when the spectators
supposed he was no more, he suddenly exclaimed, "Lord Jesus, receive my
spirit," and meekly resigned his life. He was burnt
on Jesus Green, not far from Jesus College. He had
gunpowder given him, but he was dead before it became
ignited. This pious sufferer afforded a singular spectacle; for his flesh was so burnt from the bones, which continued erect, that he
presented the idea of a skeleton figure chained to the stake. His remains were eagerly seized by the multitude, and
venerated by all who admired his piety or detested inhuman bigotry.
In the following
month of July, received the crown of martyrdom. Miller
dwelt at Lynn, and came to Norwich, where, planting himself at the door of one
of the churches, as the people came out, he requested to know of them where he
could go to receive the Communion. For this a priest brought him before Dr.
Dunning, who committed him to ward; but he was suffered
to go home, and arrange his affairs; after which he
returned to the bishop's house, and to his prison, where he remained until the
thirteenth of July, the day of his burning.
Elizabeth
Coope, wife of a pewterer, of St. Andrews, Norwich, had recanted; but tortured
for what she had done by the worm which dieth not, she shortly after
voluntarily entered her parish church during the time of the popish service,
and standing up, audibly proclaimed that she revoked her former recantation,
and cautioned the people to avoid her unworthy example. She was
taken from her own house by Mr. Sutton the sheriff, who very reluctantly
complied with the letter of the law, as they had been servants and in
friendship together. At the stake, the poor sufferer, feeling the fire, uttered
the cry of "Oh!" upon which Mr. Miller, putting his hand behind him
towards her, desired her to be of a good courage,
"for (said he) good sister, we shall have a
joyful and a sweet supper." Encouraged by this example and exhortation,
she stood the fiery ordeal without flinching, and, with him, proved the power
of faith over the flesh.
It was before
mentioned that twenty-two persons had been sent up
from Colchester, who upon a slight submission, were afterward
released. Of these, William Munt, of Much
Bentley, husbandman, with Alice, his wife, and Rose Allin, her daughter, upon
their return home, abstained from church, which induced the bigoted priest
secretly to write to Bonner. For a short time they absconded, but returning
again, March 7, one Edmund Tyrrel, (a relation of the Tyrrel who murdered King
Edward V and his brother) with the officers, entered the house while Munt and
his wife were in bed, and informed them that they must go to Colchester Castle.
Mrs. Munt at that time being very ill, requested her
daughter to get her some drink; leave being permitted, Rose took a candle and a mug; and in
returning through the house was met by Tyrrel, who
cautioned her to advise her parents to become good Catholics. Rose briefly informed
him that they had the Holy Ghost for their adviser; and that she was ready to
lay down her own life for the same cause. Turning to his company, he remarked
that she was willing to burn; and one of them told him to prove her, and see what she would do by and by. The unfeeling
wretch immediately executed this project; and, seizing the young woman by the
wrist, he held the lighted candle under her hand, burning it crosswise on the
back, until the tendons divided from the flesh, during which he loaded her with
many opprobrious epithets. She endured his rage
unmoved, and then, when he had ceased the torture, she asked him to begin at
her feet or head, for he need not fear that his employer would one day repay
him. After this she took the drink to her mother.
This
cruel act of torture does not stand alone on record.
Bonner
had served a poor blind harper in nearly the same
manner, who had steadily maintained a hope that if every joint of him were to be burnt, he should not fly from the faith. Bonner, upon
this, privately made a signal to his men, to bring a burning coal, which they
placed in the poor man's hand, and then by force held it closed, until it burnt
into the flesh deeply.
George
Eagles, tailor, was indicted for having prayed that
'God would turn Queen Mary's heart, or take her away';
the ostensible cause of his death was his religion, for treason could hardly be imagined in praying for the reformation of such an
execrable soul as that of Mary. Being condemned for
this crime, he was drawn to the place of execution
upon a sledge, with two robbers, who were executed
with him. After Eagles had mounted the ladder, and been turned off a short
time, he was cut down before he was at all insensible; a bailiff, named William
Swallow, then dragged him to the sledge, and with a common blunt cleaver,
hacked off the head; in a manner equally clumsy and cruel, he opened his body
and tore out the heart.
In
all this suffering the poor martyr repined not, but to the last called upon his
Savior. The fury of these bigots did not end here; the intestines were burnt, and the body was quartered,
the four parts being sent to Colchester, Harwich,
Chelmsford, and St. Rouse's. Chelmsford had the honor of retaining his head,
which was affixed to a long pole in the market place.
In time it was blown down, and lay several
days in the street, until it was buried at night in
the churchyard. God's judgment not long after fell upon Swallow, who in his old
age became a beggar, and who was affected with a
leprosy that made him obnoxious even to the animal creation; nor did Richard
Potts, who troubled Eagles in his dying moments, escape the visiting hand of
God.
This lady was the
wife of Mr. T. Lewes, of Manchester. She had received the Romish religion as
true, until the burning of that pious martyr, Mr. Saunders, at Coventry.
Understanding that his death arose from a refusal to receive the Mass, she
began to inquire into the ground of his refusal, and her conscience, as it
began to be enlightened, became restless
and alarmed. In this inquietude, she resorted to Mr. John Glover, who lived
near, and requested that he would unfold those rich sources of Gospel knowledge
he possessed, particularly upon the subject of transubstantiation. He easily
succeeded in convincing her that the mummery of popery and the Mass were at
variance with God's most holy Word, and honestly
reproved her for following too much the vanities of a wicked world. It was to
her indeed a word in season, for she soon became weary of her former sinful
life and resolved to abandon the Mass and idolatrous worship. Though compelled
by her husband's violence to go to church, her contempt of the holy water and
other ceremonies was so manifest, that she was accused
before the bishop for despising the sacramentals.
A
citation, addressed to her, immediately followed, which was
given to Mr. Lewes, who, in a fit of passion, held a dagger to the
throat of the officer, and made him eat it, after which he caused him to drink
it down, and then sent him away. But for this the bishop summoned Mr. Lewest
before him as well as his wife; the former readily submitted, but the latter
resolutely affirmed, that, in refusing holy water, she neither offended God,
nor any part of his laws. She was sent home for a
month, her husband being bound for her appearance, during which time Mr. Glover
impressed upon her the necessity of doing what she did, not from self-vanity,
but for the honor and glory of God.
Mr.
Glover and others earnestly exhorted Lewest to forfeit the money he was bound
in, rather than subject his wife to certain death; but he was deaf to the voice
of humanity, and delivered her over to the bishop, who soon found sufficient
cause to consign her to a loathsome prison, whence she was several times
brought for examination. At the last time the bishop reasoned with her upon the
fitness of her coming to Mass, and receiving as sacred
the Sacrament and sacramentals of the Holy Ghost. "If these things were in
the Word of God," said Mrs. Lewes, "I would with all my heart
receive, believe, and esteem them." The bishop, with the most ignorant and
impious effrontery, replied, "If thou wilt believe no more than what is
warranted by Scriptures, thou art in a state of damnation!" Astonished at
such a declaration, this worthy sufferer ably rejoined that his words were as
impure as they were profane.
After
condemnation, she lay a twelvemonth in prison, the sheriff not being willing to
put her to death in his time, though he had been but just chosen. When her
death warrant came from London, she sent for some
friends, whom she consulted in what manner her death might be more glorious to
the name of God, and injurious to the cause of God's enemies. Smilingly, she
said: "As for death, I think but lightly of. When I know that I shall
behold the amiable countenance of Christ my dear Savior, the ugly face of death
does not much trouble me." The evening before she suffered, two priests
were anxious to visit her, but she refused both their confession and
absolution, when she could hold a better communication with the High Priest of
souls. About three o'clock in the morning, Satan began to shoot his fiery
darts, by putting into her mind to doubt whether she was
chosen to eternal life, and Christ died for her. Her friends readily
pointed out to her those consolatory passages of Scripture which comfort the
fainting heart, and treat of the Redeemer who taketh
away the sins of the world.
About
eight o'clock the sheriff announced to her that she had but an hour to live;
she was at first cast down, but this soon passed away, and she thanked God that
her life was about to be devoted to His service. The
sheriff granted permission for two friends to accompany her to the stake-an
indulgence for which he was afterward severely handled.
Mr. Reniger and Mr. Bernher led her to the place of execution; in going to
which, from its distance, her great weakness, and the
press of the people, she had nearly fainted. Three
times she prayed fervently that God would deliver the land from popery and the
idolatrous Mass; and the people for the most part, as well as
the sheriff, said Amen.
When
she had prayed, she took the cup, (which had been filled
with water to refresh her,) and said, "I drink to all
them that unfeignedly love the Gospel of Christ, and
wish for the abolition of popery." Her friends, and a great many women of the place, drank with her, for which most of them afterward were enjoined penance.
When
chained to the stake, her countenance was cheerful, and the roses of her cheeks
were not abated. Her hands were
extended towards heaven until the fire rendered them powerless, when her
soul was received int o the
arms of the Creator. The duration of her agony was but short, as the
under-sheriff, at the request of her friends, had prepared such excellent fuel
that she was in a few minutes overwhelmed with smoke
and flame. The case of this lady drew a tear of pity from everyone who had a
heart not callous to humanity.
About the
seventeenth of September, suffered at Islington the following four professors
of Christ: Ralph Allerton, James Austoo, Margery Austoo, and Richard Roth.
James
Austoo and his wife, of St. Allhallows, Barking, London, were
sentenced for not believing in the presence. Richard Roth rejected the
seven Sacraments, and was accused of comforting the
heretics by the following letter written in his own blood, and intended to have
been sent to his friends at Colchester:
"O
dear Brethren and Sisters,
"How
much reason have you to rejoice in God, that He hath given you such faith to
overcome this bloodthirsty tyrant thus far! And no doubt He that hath begun
that good work in you, will fulfill it unto the end. O
dear hearts in Christ, what a crown of glory shall ye receive with Christ in
the kingdom of God! O that it had been the good will of God that I had been
ready to have gone with you; for I lie in my lord's Little-ease by day, and in
the night I lie in the Coalhouse, apart from Ralph Allerton, or any other; and
we look every day when we shall be condemned; for he said that I should be
burned within ten days before Easter; but I lie still at the pool's brink, and
every man goeth in before me; but we abide patiently the Lord's leisure, with
many bonds, in fetters and stocks, by which we have received great joy of God.
And now fare you well, dear brethren and sisters, in this world, but I trust to see you in the heavens face to face.
"O
brother Munt, with your wife and my sister Rose, how blessed are you in the
Lord, that God hath found you worthy to suffer for His sake! with all the rest
of my dear brethren and sisters known and unknown. O be joyful even unto death.
Fear it not, saith Christ, for I have overcome death. O dear heart, seeing that
Jesus Christ will be our help, O tarry you the Lord's leisure. Be strong, let
your hearts be of good comfort, and wait you still for
the Lord. He is at hand. Yea, the angel of the Lord
pitcheth his tent round about them that fear him, and delivereth them which way
he seeth best. For our lives are in the Lord's hands; and they can do nothing
unto us before God suffer them. Therefore give all
thanks to God.
"O
dear hearts, you shall be clothed in long white garments upon the mount of
Sion, with the multitude of saints, and with Jesus Christ our Savior, who will
never forsake us. O blessed virgins, ye have played the wise virgins' part, in
that ye have taken oil in your lamps that ye may go in with the Bridegroom,
when he cometh, into the everlasting joy with Him. But as for the foolish, they
shall be shut out, because they made not themselves
ready to suffer with Christ, neither go about to take up
His cross. O dear hearts, how precious shall your death be in the sight of the
Lord! for dear is the death of His saints. O fare you well,
and pray. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen,
Amen. Pray, pray, pray!
"Written
by me, with my own blood,
This
letter, so justly denominating Bonner the "bloodthirsty tyrant," was not
likely to excite his compassion. Roth accused him of bringing them to secret
examination by night, because he was afraid of the people by day. Resisting
every temptation to recant, he was condemned, and on
September 17, 1557, these four martyrs perished at Islington, for the testimony
of the Lamb, who was slain that they might be of the
redeemed of God.
John
Noyes, a shoemaker, of Laxfield, Suffolk, was taken to
Eye, and at midnight, September 21, 1557, he was brought
from Eye to Laxfield to be burned. On the following morning he was led to the stake,
prepared for the horrid sacrifice. Mr. Noyes, on coming to the fatal spot, knelt down, prayed, and rehearsed the Fiftieth Psalm. When
the chain enveloped him, he said, "Fear not them that kill the body, but
fear him that can kill both body and soul, and cast it
into everlasting fire!" As one Cadman placed a fagot against him, he
blessed the hour in which he was born to die for the truth; and while trusting
only upon the all-sufficient merits of the Redeemer, fire was set to the pile,
and the blazing fagots in a short time stifled his last words, "Lord, have
mercy on me! Christ, have mercy upon me!" The ashes of the body were buried in a pit, and with them one of his feet, whole
to the ankle, with the stocking on.
This
history continues in the next article >
Chapter 16 - Persecution in England Under Queen Mary,
Continued
Fox's Book of Martyrs - Introduction
Chapter 14 - Persecutions in Britain and Ireland
Before Queen Mary I