Fox's Book of Martyrs
Chapter XVI
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sisters, was entirely superseded, from an apprehension of the returning system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.
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.
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, "IKf 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."
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.
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
ujntil 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.
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, bedrid, 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 leadning
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 besdie; 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 ccounted
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.
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,
proimising 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Packingham suffered at the same town on the twenty-eigth 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.
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 snaguinary 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.
Dr.
Ridley was born in Northumberland, was first tauht
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 mitred 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 accustamed 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.
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 rthe 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!
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.
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,a
nd 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 privat einterview
with the king, spoke inimically of Cranmer, (whom he maliciously hated) for assumiong 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 patiot, 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 Gardfiner 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 sharpoly
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 precedure, and King Edwarrd 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 godily 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 wa sinjured, 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.
"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 dobut, 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.
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."
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.
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."
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!
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.
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 twopence 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 soe 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 continued on next
page >
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