! 




THE LIBRARY 

OF 

THE UNIVERSITY 
OF CALIFORNIA 

LOS ANGELES 



FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
ERNEST CARROLL MOORE 




EndJ&y Hi Hall. 



HISTORY 



THE REFORMATION 



THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 



VOLUME FIFTH 



THE REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 



BY J. H. MERLE D'AUBIGNE", D. D. 

PRESIDENT OF THE THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL OF GENEVA, AND VICK 
PRESIDENT OF THE SOC1ETE EVANGEHQUE. 



TRANSLATED BY H. WHITE, 

B.A. TRINITY COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE, M. A. AND PH. DR. HEIDELBERS 
THE TRANSLATION CAREFULLY REVISED BY DR. MERLE D'ACBIGNK. 



PUBLISHED BY THE 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 



This volume is an exact reprint of the author's original 
English edition. In issuing it, the publishers express no 
sanction of any thing concerning which evangelical Chris- 
tians differ, as to the polity of the Church of Christ. 

J'appelle accessoire, 1'estat des affaires de ceste vie c&dn^ue et 
transitoire. J'appelle principal, le gouvernement spiritual auquel reluit 
souverainement la providence de Dieu. Theodore de Beze. 

By accessory, I mean the state of affairs in this frail and transitory 
life ; by principal, the spiritual government in which God's provideacc 
rules supreme. Theodore Beza. 




1.5 
PREFACE TO VOLUME FIFTH. 



IN the four previous volumes the author has described the 
origin and essential development of the Reformation of the 
Sixteenth Century on the Continent ; he has now to relate 
the history of the Reformation in England. 

The notes will direct the reader to the principal sources 
whence the author has derived his information. Most of 
them are well known ; some, however, had not been pre- 
viously explored, among which are the later volumes of the 
State Papers published by order of Government, by a Com- 
mission of which the illustrious Sir Robert Peel was the first 
president. Three successive Home Secretaries, Sir James 
Graham, Sir George Grey, and the Honourable Mr S. H. 
Walpole, have presented the author with copies of the several 
volumes of this great and important collection: in some 
instances they were communicated to him as soon as printed, 
which was the case in particular with the seventh volume, 
of which he has made much use. He takes this opportunity 
of expressing his sincere gratitude to these noble friends of 
literature. 

The History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century, 
was received with cordiality on the Continent, but it has had 
a far greater number of readers hi the British dominions 
and in the United States. The author looks upon the rela- 

1689423 



IV PREFACE. 

tions which this work has established between him and many 
distant Christians, as a precious reward for his labours. Will 
the present volume be received in those countries as favour- 
ably as the others? A foreigner relating to the Anglo- 
Saxon race the history of their Reformation is at a certain 
disadvantage ; and although the author would rather have 
referred his readers to works, whether of old or recent date, 
by native writers, all of them more competent than himself 
to accomplish this task, he did not think it becoming him 
to shrink from the undertaking. 

At no period is it possible to omit the history of the Re- 
formation in England from a general history of the Refor- 
mation of the Sixteenth Century ; at the present crisis it is 
less possible than ever. 

In the first place, the English Reformation has been, and 
still is, calumniated by writers of different parties, who look 
upon it as nothing more than an external political transfor- 
mation, and who thus ignore its spiritual nature. History 
has taught the author that it was essentially a religious 
transformation, and that we must seek for it in men of 
faith, and not, as is usually done, solely in the caprices of 
the prince, the ambition of the nobility, and the servility of 
the prelates. A faithful recital of this great renovation 
will perhaps show us 'that beyond and without the measures 
of Henry VIII. there was something everything, so to speak 
for therein was the essence of the Reformation, that which 
makes it a divine and imperishable work. 

A second motive forced the author to acknowledge the 
necessity of a true History of the English Reformation. An 
active party in the Episcopalian Church is reviving with 
zeal, perseverance, and talent, the principles of Roman-ca- 
tholicism, and striving to impose them on the Reformed 
Church of England, and incessantly attacking the founda- 
tions of evangelical Christianity. A number of young men 



PREFACE. V 

in the universities, seduced by that deceitful mirage which 
some of their teachers have placed before their eyes, are 
launching out into clerical and superstitious theories, and 
running the risk of falling, sooner or later, as so many have 
done already, into the ever-yawning gulf of Popery. We 
must therefore call to mind the reforming principles which 
were proclaimed from the very commencement of this great 
transformation. 

The new position which the Komish court is taking in 
England, and its insolent aggressions, are a third consid- 
eration which seems to demonstrate to us the present im- 
portance of this history. It is good to call to mind that 
the primitive Christianity of Great Britain perseveringly 
repelled the invasion of the popedom, and that after the 
definitive victory of this foreign power, the noblest voices 
among kings, lords, priests, and people, boldly protested 
against it. It is good to show that, while the word of God 
recovered its inalienable rights in Britain, in the sixteenth 
century, the popedom, agitated by wholly political interests, 
broke of itself the chain with which it had so long bound 
England. We shall see in this volume the English go- 
vernment fortifying itself, for instance under Edward III., 
against the invasions of Rome. It has been pretended in 
our days, and by others besides ultra-montanists, that the 
papacy is a purely spiritual power, and ought to be opposed 
by spiritual arms only. If the first part of this argument 
were true, no one would be readier than ourselves to adopt 
the conclusion. God forbid that any protestant state should 
ever refuse the completest liberty to the Roman-catholic 
doctrines. We certainly wish for reciprocity; we desire 
that ultra-montanism should no longer throw into prison 
the humble believers who seek consolation for themselves, 
and for their friends, in Holy Scripture. But though a 
deplorable fanaticism should still continue to transplant into 



VI PREFACE. 

the nineteenth century the mournful tragedies of the Middle 
Ages, we should persist in demanding the fullest liberty, 
not only of conscience, but of worship, for Roman-catholics 
in protestant states. We shbuld ask it in the name of 
justice, whose immutable laws the injustice of our adver- 
saries can never make us forget ; we should ask it on be- 
half of the final triumph of truth ; for if our demands proved 
unavailing, perhaps with God's help it might be otherwise 
with our example. When two worlds meet face to face, in 
one of which light abounds, and in the other darkness, it is 
the darkness that should disappear before the light, and not 
the light fly from before the darkness. We might go farther 
than this : far from constraining the English catholics in 
anything, we would rather desire to help them to be freer than 
they are, and to aid them in recovering the rights of which 
the Roman bishop robbed them in times posterior to the 
establishment of the papacy ; for instance, the election of 
bishops and pastors, which belongs to the clergy and the 
people. Indeed, Cyprian, writing to a bishop of Rome (Cor- 
nelius), demanded three elements to secure the legitimacy of 
episcopal election : " The call of God, the voice of the peo- 
ple, and the consent of the co-bishops."* And the coun- 
cil of Rome, in 1080, said : " Let the clergy and the people, 
with the consent of the apostolic see or of their metropolitan, 
elect their bishop." -J- In our days, days distinguished by 
great liberty, shall the church be less free than it was in 
the Middle Ages ? 

But if we do not fear to claim for Roman-catholics the 
rights' of the church of the first ages, and a greater liberty 
than what they now possess, even in the very seat of the 

* Divinum judicium, populi suffragium, co-episcoporum consensus. 
Epist. 55. 

f- Clerus et populus, apostolicse sedis, yel metropolitani sui oonsensu, 
pastorem sibi eligat. Mansi, xx. p. 533. 



PREFACE. Vli 

popedom, are we therefore to say that the state, whether 
under Edward III. or in later times, should oppose no barrier 
against Romish aggressions? If it is the very life and soul 
of popery to pass beyond the boundaries of religion^ and enter 
into the field of policy, why should it be thought strange for 
the state to defend itself, when attacked upon its own 
ground ? Can the state have no need of precautions against 
a power which has pretended to be paramount over Eng- 
land, which gave its crown to a French monarch, which 
obtained an oath of vassalage from an English king, and 
which lays down as its first dogma its infallibility and im- 
mutability ? 

And it was not only under Edward III. and throughout 
the Middle Ages that Rome encroached on royalty ; it has 
happened in modem times also. M. Mignet has recently 
brought to light some remarkable facts. On the 28th of 
June 1570, a letter from Saint Pius V. was presented to the 
catholic king Philip II. by an agent just arrived from Rome. 
" Our dear son, Robert Ridolfi," says the writer, " will ex- 
plain (God willing) to your majesty certain matters which 

concern not a little the honour of Almighty God We 

conjure your majesty to take into your serious consideration 
the matter which he will lay before you, and to furnish him 
with all the means your majesty may judge most proper 
for its execution." The pope's "dear son," accordingly, 
explained to the duke of Feria, who was commissioned by 
Philip to receive his communication, " that it was proposed 
to kill queen Elizabeth ; that the attempt would not be made 
Li London, Because it was the seat of heresy, but during one 

of her journeys ; and that a certain James G would 

undertake it." The same day the council met and deliberated 
on Elizabeth's assassination. Philip declared his willing- 
ness to undertake the foul deed recommended by his holi- 
ness ; but as it would be an expensive business, his ministers 



V1U PREFACE. 

hinted to the nuncio that the pope ought to furnish the money. 
This horrible but instructive recital will be found with all its 
details in the Histoire de Marie Stuart, by M. Mignet. vol. ii. 
p. 159, etc. It is true that these things took place in the 
sixteenth century; but the Romish church has canonized 
this priestly murderer, an honour conferred on a very small 
number of popes, and the canonization took place in the 
eighteenth century.* This is not a very distant date. 

And these theories, so calculated to trouble nations, are still 
to be met with in the nineteenth century. At this very moment 
there are writers asserting principles under cover of which 
the pope may interfere in affairs of state. The kings of 
Europe, terrified by the deplorable outbreaks of 1848, ap- 
pear almost everywhere ready to support the court of Rome 
by arms ; and ultra-montanism takes advantage of this to 
proclaim once more, " that the popedom is above the monar- 
chy ; that it is the duty of the inferior (the king) to obey the 
superior ; that it is the duty of the superior (the pope) to de- 
pose the sovereigns who abuse their power, and to condemn 
the subjects who resist it ; and, finally, that this public law 
of Christian Europe, abolished by the ambition of sove- 
reigns or the insubordination of peoples, should be revived." 
Such are the theories now professed not only by priests 
but by influential laymen, j- To this opinion belong, at 
the present hour, all the zeal and enthusiasm of Roman- 
ism, and this alone we are bound to acknowledge is con- 
sistent with the principles of popery. And accordingly it is 
to be feared that this party will triumph, unless we oppose 
it with all the forces of the human understating, of reli- 
gious and political liberty, and above all, of the word of 

* Acta canonisationis S. Pii. V. Romse, 1720, folio. 

} See in particular Le Catholicisme, le Liberalisme et le Socialisms, and 
other writings of Donoso Cortes, marquis of Valdegamas, one of the most 
distinguished members of the constitutional party in Spain. 



PREFACE. IX 

God. The most distinguished ofgan of public opinion in 
France, alarmed by the progress of these ultramontane doc- 
trines, said not long ago of this party : " In its eyes there 
exists but one real authority in the world, that of the pope. 
All questions, not only religious but moral and political, are 
amenable to one tribunal, supreme and infallible, the pope's. 
The pope has the right to absolve subjects of their oath of 
fidelity; subjects have the right to take up arms against 
their prince when he rebels against the decisions of the holy 
sec. This is the social and political theory of the Middle 
Ages."* 

Since the popedom asserts claims both spiritual and tem- 
poral, the church and the state ought to resist it, each in its 
own sphere, and with its peculiar arms: the church (by 
which I mean the believers), solely with Holy Scrip- 
ture ; the state with such institutions as are calculated to 
secure its independence. What ! the church is bound to de- 
fend what belongs to the church, and the state is not to 
defend what belongs to me state? If robbers should en- 
deavour to plunder two houses, would it be just and chari- 
table for one neighbour to say to the other, " I must defend 
my house, but you must let yours be stripped?" If the 
pope desires to have the immaculate conception of the Virgin, 
or any other religious doctrine, preached, let the fullest 
liberty be granted him, and let him build as many churches 
as he pleases to do it in : we claim this in the plainest lan- 
guage. But if the pope, like Saint Pius, desires to kill the 
Queen of England, or at least (for no pope in our days, were 
he even saint enough to be canonized, would conceive such 
an idea), if the pope desires to infringe in any way on 
the rights of the state, then let the state resist him with 
tried wisdom and unshaken firmness. Let us beware of an 
ultra-spiritualism which forgets the lessons of history, and 

* Journal des De'bats, 18th January 1853. 
I* 



X PBEFACE. 

overlooks the rights of kings and peoples. Wh'en it is 
found among theologians, it is an error ; in statesmen, it is 
a danger. 

Finally, and this consideration revives our hopes, there is 
a fourth motive which gives at this time a particular im- 
portance to the history we are about to relate. The Refor- 
mation is now entering upon a new phasis. The move- 
ment of the sixteenth century had died away during the 
seventeenth and eighteenth, and it was often to churches 
which had lost every spark of life that the historian had 
then to recount the narrative of this great revival. This is 
the case no longer. After three centuries, a new and a 
greater movement is succeeding that which we describe in 
these volumes. The principles of the religious regeneration, 
which God accomplished three hundred years ago, are now 
carried to the end of the world with the greatest energy. 
The task of the sixteenth century lives again in the nine- 
teenth, but more emancipated from the temporal power, 
more spiritual, more general; and it is the Anglo-Saxon 
race that God chiefly employs for the accomplishment of this 
universal work. The English Reformation acquires there- 
fore, in our days, a special importance. If the Reformation 
of Germany was the foundation of the building, that of Eng- 
land was its crowning stone. 

The work begun in the age of the apostles, renewed in 
the times of the reformers, should be resumed in our days 
with a holy enthusiasm ; and this work is very simple and 
very beautiful, for it consists in establishing the throne of 
Jesus Christ both in the church and on earth. 

Evangelical faith does not place on the throne of the church 
either human reason or religious conscientiousness, as some 
would have it; but it sets thereon Jesus Christ, who is 
both the knowledge taught and the doctor who teaches it ; 
who explains his word by the word, and by the light of his 



PREFACE. XI 

Holy Spirit ; who by it bears witness to the truth, that ia 
to say, to his redemption, and teaches the essential laws 
which should regulate the inner life of his disciples. Evan- 
gelical faith appeals to the understanding, to the heart, and 
to the will of .every Christian, only to impose on them the 
duty to submit to the divine authority of Christ, to listen, 
believe, love, comprehend, and act, as God requires. 

Evangelical faith does not place on the throne of the 
church the civil power, or the secular magistrate; biit it 
sets thereon Jesus Christ, who has said, / am King ; who 
imparts to his subjects the principle of life, who establishes 
his kingdom here on earth, and preserves and develops it ; 
and who, directing all mortal events, is now making the 
progressive conquest of th'e world, until he shall exercise in 
person his divine authority in the kingdom of his glory. 

Finally, evangelical faith does not place on the throne of 
the church priests, councils, doctors, or their traditions, or 
that vice-God (veri Dei vicem gerit in terris, as the 
Romish gloss has it), that infallible pontiff, who, reviving the 
errors of the pagans, ascribes salvation to the forms of 
worship and to the meritorious works of men. It sots 
thereon Jesus Christ, the great High-priest of his people, 
the God-man, who, by an act of his free love, bore in 6ur 
stead, in his atoning sacrifice, the penalty of sin ; who has 
taken away the curse from our heads, and thus become the 
creator of a new race. 

Such is the essential work of that Christianity, which the 
apostolic age transmitted to the reformers, and which it now 
transmits to the Christians of the nineteenth century. 

While the thoughts of great numbers are led astray in the 
midst of ceremonies, priests, human lucubrations, pontifical 
fables, and philosophic reveries, and are driven to and fro in 
the dust of this world, evangelical faith rises even to heaven, 
and falls prostrate before Him who sitteth on the throne. 



Xii PREFACE. 

The Keformation is Jesus Christ. 

"Lord, to whom shall we go, if not unto thee?" Let 
others follow the devices of their imaginations, or prostrate 
themselves beforS traditional superstitions, or kiss the feet of 
a sinful man King of glory, we desire but Thee alone ! 

ENEVA, March 1853. 



CONTENTS. 



BOOK XVII. 

ENGLAND BEFORE THE REFORMATION. 

CHAPTER I. 

g 

Introduction Work of the Sixteenth Century Unity and Diversity- 
Necessity of considering the entire Religious History of England- 
Establishment of Christianity in Great Britain Formation of Ecclesi- 
astical Catholicism in the Roman Empire Spiritual Christianity re- 
ceived by Britain Slavery and Conversion of Succat His Mission to 
Ireland Anglo-Saxons re-establish Paganism in England Col umba 
at lona Evangelical Teaching Presbytery and Episcopacy in Great 
Britain Continental Missions of the Britons An Omission, Page 17 

CHAPTER U? 

Pope Gregory the Great Desires to reduce Britain Policy of Gregory 
and Augustine Arrival of the Mission Appreciation Britain supe- 
rior to Rome Dionoth at Bangor First and Second Romish Aggres- 
sionsAnguish of the Britons Pride of Rome Rome has recourse to 
the Sword Massacre Saint Peter scourges an Archbishop Oswald 
His Victory Gorman Mission of Oswald and Aldan Death of 
Oswald, 31 

CHAPTER III. 

Character of Oswy Death of Aidan Wilfrid at Rome At Oswald's 
Court FInan and Colman Independence of the Church attacked 
Oswy's Conquests and Troubles Synodus PharensisCedda. Dege- 
neration The Disputation Peter, the Gatekeeper Triumph of Rome 
Grief of the Britons Popedom organized in England Papal Exul- 
tation Archbishop Theodore Cedda re-ordained Discord in the 
Church Disgrace and Treachery of Wilfrid His End Scotland 
attacked Adamnan lona resists A King converted by Architects 
The Monk Egbert at lona His History Monkish Visions Fall 
oflooa, 42 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Clement Struggle between a Scotchman and an Englishman Word of 
God only Clement's Sxiccess His Condemnation Virgil and the 
Antipodes John Scotus and Philosophical Religion Alfred and the 
Bible Darkness and Popery William the Conqueror Wulston at 
Edward's Tomb Struggle between William and Hildebrand The 
Pope yields Ciesaropapia, Page 60 

CHAPTER V. 

Anselm's Firmness Becket's Austerity The King scourged John be- 
comes the Pope's Vassal Collision between Popery and Liberty 
The Vassal King ravages his Kingdom Religion of the Senses and 
Superstition, * . . . 70 

CHAPTER VI. 

Reaction Grostete Principles of Reform Contest with the Pope 
Sewal Progress of the Nation Opposition to the Papacy Conver- 
sion of Bradwardine Grace is Supreme Edward III. Statutes of 
Provisors and Prcemunire, 76 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Mendicant Friars Their Disorders and Popular Indignation 
Wickliffe ms Success Speeches of the Peers against the Papal Tri- 
bute Agreement of Bruges Courtenay and Lancaster Wickliffe 
before the Convocation Altercation between Lancaster and Cour- 
tenay Riot Three Briefs against Wickliffe Wickliffe at Lambeth 
Mission of the Poor Priests Their Preachings and Persecutions 
Wickliffe and the Four Regents, , 83 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Bible Wickliffe's Translation Effects of its Publication Opposi- 
tion of the Clergy Wickliffe's Fourth Phasis Transubstantiation 
Excommunication Wickliffe's Firmness Wat Tyler The Synod 
The Condemned Propositions Wickliffe's Petition Wickliffe beforo 
the Primate at Oxford Wickliffe summoned to Rome His Answer 
The Trialogue His Death And Character His Teaching His Ec- 
clesiastical Views A Prophecy, 94 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Wickliffites-Call for Reform Richard II. The First Martyr- 
Lord Cobham Appears before Henry V. Before the Archbishop 
His Confession and Death The Lollards, .... 107 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER X. 

Learning at Florence The Tudors Erasmus visits England Sir 
Thomas More Dean Colet Erasmus and young Henry Prince 
Arthur and Catherine Marriage and Death Catherine betrothed to 
Henry Accession of Henry VIII. Enthusiasm of the Learned- 
Erasmus recalled to England Cromwell before the Pope Catherine 
proposed to Henry Their Marriage and Court Tournaments 

Henry's Danger, Page 113 



CHAPTER XL 

The Pope excites to War Colet's Sermon at St Paul's The Flemish 
Campaign Marriage of Louis XII. and Princess Mary Letter from 
Anne Boleyn Marriage of Brandon and Mary Oxford Sir Thomas, 
More at Court Attack upon the Monasteries Colet's Household He 
preaches Reform The Greeks and Trojans, .... 126 

CHAPTER XII. 

Wolsey His first Commission His Complaisance and Dioceses Cardi- 
nal, Chancellor, and Legate Ostentation and Necromancy His Spies 
and Enmity Pretensions of the Clergy, 135 

CHAPTER XIII. 

The Wolves Richard Hun A Murder Verdict of the Jury Hun con- 
demned, and his Character vindicated The Gravesend Passage-boat 
A Festival disturbed Brown tortured Visit from his Wife A Martyr 
Character of Erasmus 1516 and 1517 Erasmus goes to Basle, 140 



BOOK XVIII. 

THE REVIVAL OF THE CHUSCH. 

CHAPTER I. 

Tour reforming Powers Which reformed England ! Papal Reform ? 
Episcopal Reform 1 Royal Reform ? What is required in a legitimate 
Reform ! The Share of the Kingly Power Share of the Episcopal Au- 
thority High and Low Church Political Events The Greek and 
Latin New Testament Thoughts of Erasmus Enthusiasm and Anger 
Desire of Erasmus Clamours of the Priests Their Attack at Court 
Astonishment of Erasmus His Labours for this Work Edwird Lee ; 
bis Character Lee's Tragedy Conspiracy, .... 14!) 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER II. 

Effects of the New Testament in the Universities Conversations A 
Cambridge Fellow Bilney buys the New Testament The First Pas- 
sage His Conversion Protestantism, the Fruit of the Gospel The 
Vale of the Severn William Tyndale Evangelization at Oxford 
Bilney teaches at Cambridge Fryth Is Conversion possible ? True 
Consecration The Reformation has begun, . . . Page 160 

CHAPTER III. 

Alarm of the Clergy The Two Days Thomas Man's Preaching True 
real Presence Persecutions at Coventry Standish preaches at St 
Paul's His Petition to the King and Queen His Arguments and 
Defeat Wolsey's Ambition First Overtures Henry and Francis 
Candidates for the Empire Conference between Francis I. and Sir 
T. Boleyn The Tiara promised to Wolsey The Cardinal's Intrigues 
with Charles and Francis, . 1(0 

CHAPTER IV. 

Tyndale-Sodbury Hall Sir John and Lady Walsh Table-Talk -The 
Holy Scriptures The Images The Anchor of Faith A Roman Camp 
Preaching of Faith and Works Tyndale accused by the Priests 
They tear up what ho has planted Tyndale resolves to translate the 
Bible His first Triumph The Priests in the Taverns Tyndale sum- 
moned before the Chancellor of Worcester Consoled by an aged Doc- 
tor Attacked by a Schoolman His Secret becomes known He leaves 
SodburyHall, 177 

CHAPTER V. 

Luther's Works in England Consultation of the Bishops The Bull of 
Leo X. published in England Luther's Books burnt Letter of Henry 
VIII. He undertakes to write against Luther Cry of Alarm Tra- 
dition and Sacramentalism Prudence of Sir T. More The Book 
presented to the Pope Defender of the Faith Exultation of the 
King, 188 

CHAPTER VI. 

Wolsey's Machinations to obtain the Tiara He gains Charles V. Alli- 
ance between Henry and Charles Wolsey offers to command the 
Troops Treaty of Bruges Henry believes himself King of France 
Victories of Francis I. Death of Leo X 195 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Just Men of Lincolnshire Their Assemblies and Teaching Agnes 
and Morden Itinerant Libraries Polemical Conversations Sarcasm 
Royal Decree and Terror Depositions and Condemnations Four 
Majtyra A Conclave Charl|s consoles Wolsey, , . 200 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Character of Tyndalo He arrives in London He preaches The C'oth 
and the Ell The Bishop of London gives Audience to Tyndale He is 
dismissed A Christian Merchant of London Spirit of Love in the Re- 
formation Tyndale in Monmouth's House Fryth helps him to tran- 
slate the New Testament Importunities of the Bishop of Lincoln- 
Persecution in London Tyndale's Resolution He departs His In- 
dignation against the Prelates His Hopes, . . . Page 206 

CHAPTER IX. 

.Bilney at Cambridge Conversions The University Cross-bearer A 
Leicestershire Farmer A Party of Students Superstitious Practices 
An obstinate Papist The Sophists Latimer attacks Stafford Bil- 
ney's Resolution Latimer hears Bilney's Confession Confessor con- 
verted New Life in Latimer Bilney preaches Grace Nature of the 
Ministry Latimer's Character and Teaching Works of Charity- 
Three Classes of Adversaries Clark and Dalaber, . . 216 

CHAPTER X. 

Wolsey seeks the Tiara Clement VII. is elected Wolsey's Dissimu- 
lation Charles offers France to Henry Pace's Mission on this Subject 
Wolsey reforms the convents His secret Alliances Treaty between 
France and England Taxation and Insurrection False Charges 
against the Reformers Latimer's Defence Tenterden Steeple, 229 

CHAPTER XI. 

Tyndale at Hamburg First two Gospels Embarrassment Tyndale 
at NVittemberg At Cologne The New Testament at Press Sudden 
Interruption Cochlaeus at Cologne Rupert's Manuscripts Discovery 
of Cochlaeus His Inquiries His Alarm Rincke and the Senate's 
Prohibition Consternation and Decision of Tyndale Cochlaeus writes 
to England Tyndale ascends the Rhine Prints two Editions at 
Worms Tyndale's Prayer, 236 

CHAPTER XII. 

Worms and Cambridge St Paul resuscitated Latimer's Preaching 
Never Man spake like this Man Joy and Vexation at Cambridge 
Sermon by Prior Buckingham Irony Latimer's Reply to Bucking- 
ham The Students threatened Latimer preaches before the Bishop 
He is forbidden to preach The most zealous of Bishops Barnes the 
Restorer of Letters Bilney undertakes to convert him Barnes offers 
his Pulpit to Latimer -Fry th's Thirst for God Christmas Eve, 1525 
Storm against Barnes Ferment in the Colleges Germany at Cam- 
bridgeMeetings at Oxford General Expectation, . , 246 



10 CONTENTS* 

t 

BOOK XIX. 

THE ENGLISH NEW TESTAMENT AND THE COURT OP ROME, 

CHAPTER I. 

Church and State essentially distinct Their fundamental Principles 
What restores Life to the Church Separation from Rome necessary 
Reform and Liberty The New Testament crosses the Sea Is hidden 
in London Garret's Preaching and Zeal Dissemination of Scripture 
What the People find in it The Effects it produces Tyndale's 
Explanations Roper, More's Son-in-law Garret carries Tyndale's 
Testament to Oxford Henry and his Valet The Supplication of the 
Beggars Two Sorts of Beggars Evils caused by Priests More's 
Supplications of the Souls in Purgatory, . . . Page 2G1 

CHAPTER II. 

The two Authorities Commencement of the Search Garret at Oxford 
His Flight His Return and Im'prisonment Escapes and takes 
Refuge with Dalaber Garret and Dalaber at Prayer The Magnifi- 
catSurprise among the Doctors Clark's Advice Fraternal Love at 
Oxford Alarm of Dalaber His Arrest and Examination He is 
tortured Garret and twenty Fellows imprisoned The Cellar Con- 
demnation and Humiliation, . . 273 

CHAPTER III. 

Persecution at Cambridge Barnes arrested A grand Search Barnes 
at Wolsey's Palace Interrogated by the Cardinal Conversation be- 
tween Wolsey and Barnes Barnes threatened with the Stake His 
Fall and public Penance Richard Bayfield His Faith and Imprison- 
ment Visits Cambridge Joins Tyndale The Confessors in the Cellar 
at Oxford Four of them die The rest liberated, ... 283 

CHAPTER IV. 

Luther's Letter to the King Henry's Anger His Reply Luther's Re- 
solutionPersecutions Barnes escapes Proclamations against the 
New Testament W. Roy to Caiaphas Third Edition of the New 
Testament The Triumph of Law and Liberty Hackett attacks the 
Printer Hackett's Complaints A Seizure The Year 1526 in Eng- 
land 293 



CONTENTS. 11 



CHAPTER V. 

Wolsey desires to be revenged The Divorce suggested Henry's Senti- 
ments towards the Queen Wolsey's first Steps Longland's Proceed 
ings Refusal of Margaret of Valois Objection of the Bishop of Tar- 
bes Henry's Uneasiness Catherine's Alarm Mission to Spain 

Page 300 

CHAPTER VI. 

Anne Boleyn appointed Maid.of Honour to Catherine Lord Percy be- 
comes attached to her Wolsey separates them Anne enters Mar- 
garet's Household Siege of Rome ; Cromwell Wolsey's Intercession 
for the Popedom He demands the Hand of Rene'e of France for 
Henry Failure Anne reappears at Court Repels the King's Ad- 
vancesHenry's Letter He resolves to accelerate the Divorce Two 
Motives which induce Anne to refuse the Crown Wolsey's Opposi- 
tion, v. . . . . . . 307 



CHAPTER VII. 

Bilney's Preaching His Arrest Arthur's Preaching and Imprisonment 
Bilney's Examination Contest between the Judge and the Prisoner 
Bilney's \^%akness and Fall His Terrors Two Waiits Arrival of 
the Fourth Edition of the New Testament Joy among the Believers, 

317 

CHAPTER VIII. 



The Papacy intercepts the Gospel The King consults Sir Thomas More 
Ecclesiastical Conferences about the Divorce The Universities- 
Clarke The Nun of Kent Wolsey decides to do the King's Will Mis- 
sion to the Pope Four Documents Embarrassment of Charles V. 
Francis Philip at Madrid Distress and Resolution of Charles Ha 
turns away from the Reformation Conference at the Castle of St 
Angelo Knight arrives in Italy His Flight Treaty between the 
Pope and the Emperor Escape of the Pope Confusion of Henry 
VIII. Wolsey's Orders- His Entreaties, . . . .325 

CHAPTER IX. 

The English Envoys at Orvieto Their Oration to the Pope Clement 
gains Time The Envoys and Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor Stratagem 
of the Pope Knight discovers it and returns The Transformations of 
Antichrist The English obtain a new Document Fresh Stratagem 
Demand of a second Cardinal-legate The Pope's new Expedient - End 
of the Campaign, 334 



12 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER X. 

Disappointment in England War declared against Charles V Wolsey 
desires to get him deposed by the Pope A new Scheme Embassy of 
Fox and Gardiner Their Arrival at Orvieto Their first Interview 
with Clement The Pope reads a Treatise by Henry Gardiner's 
Threats and Clement's Promise The Modern Fabius Fresh Inter- 
view and Menaces The Pope has not the Key Gardiner's Proposition 
Difficulties and Delays of the Cardinals Gardiner's last Blows 
Reverses of Charles V. in Italy The Pope's Terror and Concession 
The Commission granted Wolsey demands the Engagement A Loop- 
holeThe Pope's Distress, Page 343 



CHAPTER XL 

Fox's Report to Henry and Anne Wolsey's Impression He demands 
the Decretal One of the Cardinal's petty Manoeuvres He sets his 
Conscience at Rest Gardiner fails at Rome Wolsey's new Perfidy 
The King's Anger against the Pope Sir T. More predicts Religious 
Liberty -Immorality of Ultramontane Socialism Erajmus invited 
Wolsey's last Flight Energetic Efforts at Rome Clement grants all 
Wolsey triumphs Union of Rome and England, . . 356 



BOOK XX. 

THE TWO DIVORCESf 

CHAPTER I. 

Progress of the Reformation The two Divorces Entreaties to Anne 
Boleyn The Letters in the Vatican Henry to Anne Henry's 
Second Letter Third Fourth Wolsey's Alarm His fruitless Pro- 
ceedings He turns The Sweating Sickness Henry's Fears New 
Letters to Anne Anne falls sick ; her Peace Henry writes to her 
Wolsey's Terror Campeggio does not arrive All dissemble at 
Court, 366 



CONTENTS. 13 



CHAPTER II. 

Coverdale and Inspiration He undertakes to translate the Scriptures 
Ilia Joy and Spiritual Songs Tyball and the Laymen Coverdale 
preaches at Bumpstead Revival at Colchester Incomplete Societies 
and the New Testament Persecution Monmouth arrested and 
released, Page 379 



CHAPTER III. 

Political Changes Fresh Instructions from the Pope to Campeggio His 
Delays He unbosoms himself to Francis A Prediction Arrival of 
Campcggio Wolsey's Uneasiness Henry's Satisfaction The Car- 
dinal's Project Campeggio's Reception First Interview with the 
Queen and with the King Useless Efforts to make Campeggio part 
with the Decretal The Nuncio's Conscience Public Opinion Meas 
ures taken by the King His Speech to the Lords and Aldermen 
Festivities Wolsey seeks French Support Contrariety, . 387 



CHAPTER IV. 

True Catholicity Wolsey Harman's Matter West sent to Cologne- 
Labours of Tyndale and Fryth Rincke at Frankfort He makes a 
Discovery Tyndale at Marburg West returns to England His Tor- 
tures in the Monastery, 403 



CHAPTER V. 

Necessity of the Reformation Wolsey's Earnestness with Da Casale 
An Audience with Clement VII. Cruel Position of the Pope A Judas 
Kiss A new Brief Bryan and Vannes sent to Rome Henry and Du 
Bellay Wolsey's Reasons against the Brief Excitement in London- 
Metamorphosis Wolsey's Decline His Anguish, . . . 409 



CHAPTER VI. 

The Pope's Illness Wolsey's Desire Conference about the Members of 
the Conclave Wolsey's Instructions The Pope recovers Speech of 
the English Envoys to the Pope Clement willing to abandon England 
The English demand the Pope's Denial of the Brief Wolsey's Alarm 
Intrigues Bryan's Clearsightedness Henry's Threats Wolsey's 
new Efforts He calls for an Appeal to Rome, and retracts Wolsey 
and Du Bellay at Richmond The Ship of the State, . . 416 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Discussion between the Evangelicals and the Catholics Union of Learn- 
ing and Life The Laity : Tewkesbury His Appearance before the 
Bishops' Court He is tortured Two Classes of Opponents A Theo- 
logical Due! Scripture and the Church Emancipation of the Mind 
Mission to the Low Countries Tyndale's Embarrassment Tonstall 
wishes to buy the Books Packington's Stratagem Tyndale departs 
for Antwerp His Shipwreck Arrival at Hamburg Meets Cover- 
dale, Page 425 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The Royal Session Sitting of the l-8th June ; the Queen's Protest 
Sitting of the 21st June Summons to the King and Queen Catherine's 
Speech She retires Impression on the Audience The King's Decla- 
ration Wolsey's Protest Quarrel between the Bishops New Sitting 
Apparition to the Maid of Kent Wolsey chafed by Henry The 
Earl of Wiltshire at Wolsey's Private Conference between Catherine 
and the two Legates, 436 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Trial resumed Catherine summoned Twelve Articles The Wit- 
nesses' Evidence Arthur and Catherine really married Campeggio 
opposes the Argument of Divine Right Other Arguments The Legates 
required to deliver Judgment Their Tergiversations Change in Men's 
Minds Final Session General Expectation Adjournment during 
Harvest Campeggio excuses this Impertinence the King'^ Indigna- 
tion Suffolk's Violence Wolsey's Reply He is ruined General Ac- 
cusations The Cardinal turns to an Episcopal Life, . . 446 



CHAPTER X. 

Anne Boleyn at Hever She reads the Obedience of a Christian Man 
Is recalled to Court Miss Gainsford and George Zouch Tyndale's 
Book converts Zouch Zouch in the Chapel-Royal The Book seized 
Anne applies to Henry The King reads the Book Pretended In- 
fluence of the Book on Henry The Court at Woodstock The Park 
and its Goblins Henry's Esteem for Anne, .... 453 



CHAPTER XI. 

Embarrassment of the Pope The Triumphs of Charles decide him He 
traverses the Cause to Rome Wolsey's Dejection Henry's Wrath 
His Fears Wolsey obtains Comfort Arrival of the two Legates at 



CONTEXTS. 15 

Grafton Wolsey's Reception by Henry Wolsey and Norfolk at Din- 
ner Henry with Anne Conference between the King and the Cardi- 
nal Wolsey's Joy and Grief The Supper at Euston Campeggio's 
Farewell Audience Wolsey's Disgrace Campeggio at Dover He is 
accused by the Courtiers Leaves England Wolsey foresees his own 
Fall and that of the Papacy, Page 461 



CHAPTER XII. 

A Meeting at Waltham Youth of Thomas Cranmer His early Educa- 
tion Studies Scripture for three years His Functions as Examiner 
The Supper at Waltham New View of the Divorce Fox communi- 
cates it to Henry Cranmer's Vexation Conference with the King 
Cranccr at the Boleyns, 472 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Wolsey in the Cou~t of Chancery Accused by the Dukes Refuses to 
five pp th'., Gr3at Seal His Despair He gives up the Seal Order to 
denart His inventory Alarm The Scene of Departure Favourable 
Message from the King Wolsey's Joy His Fool Arrival at Esher, 

479 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Thomas More elected Chancellor A lay Government one of the grea.t 
Facts of the Reformation Wolsey accused of subordinating England 
to the Popj He implores the King's Clemency His Condemnation 
Cromwell at Et-her His Character He sets out for London Sir 
Christopher Hales recommends him to the King Cromwell's Interview 
with Henry in the Park A new Theory Cromwell elected Member 
of Parliament Opened by Sir Thomas More Attack on ecclesiastical 
Abuses Reforms pronounced by the Convocation Three Bills Ro- 
chester attacks them Resistance of the House of Commons Struggles 
Henry sanctions the three Bills Alarm of the Clergy and Distur- 
bances, 486 



CHAPTER XV. 

The last Hour More's Fanaticism Debates in Convocation Royal 
Proclamation The Bishop of Norwich Sentiences condemned Lati- 
mer's Opposition The New Testament burnt The Persecution be- 
gins -Hitton Bayfield Tonsiall and Packington Bayfield arrested 
The Rector Patmore Lollards' Tower Tyndale and Patmore a 
Musician Freese the Painter Placards and Martyrdom of Bennet 
Thomas More and John Petit Bilney, 496 



16 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Wolsey's Terror Impeachment by the Peers Cromwell saves him 
The Cardinal's Illness Ambition returns to him His Practices in 
Yorkshire He is arrested by Northumberland His Departure Ar- 
rival of the Constable of the Tower Wolsey at Leicester Abbey Per- 
secuting Language He dies Three Movements : Supremacy, Scrip- 
ture, and Faith, . ... Page 510 



HISTOKY OF THE KEFOKMATION, 



BOOK XVII. 

ENGLAND BEFORE THE REFORMATION. 

CHAPTER I. 

introduction Work of the Sixteenth Century Unity and Diversity- 
Necessity of considering the entire Religious History of England 
Establishment of Christianity in Great Britain Formation of Ecclesi- 
astical Catholicism in the Roman Empire Spiritual Christianity re- 
ceived by Britain Slavery and Conversion of Succat His Mission to 
Ireland Anglo-Saxons re-establish Paganism in England Columba 
at lona Evangelical Teaching Presbytery and Episcopacy in Great 
Britain Continental Missions of the Britons An Omission. 

THOSE heavenly powers which had lain dormant in the 
church since the first ages of Christianity, awoke from their 
slumber in the sixteenth century, and this awakening called 
the modern times into existence. The church was created 
anew, and from that regeneration have flowed the great de- 
velopments of literature and science, of morality, liberty, 
and industry, which at present characterize the nations of 
Christendom. None of these things would have existed 
without the Reformation. Whenever society enters upon a 
new era, it requires the baptism of faith. In the sixteenth 
century God gave to man this consecration from on high by 
leading him back from mere outward profession and the 
mechanism of works to an inward and lively faith. 
VOL. v. 2 



18 UNITY AND DIVERSITY. 

This transformation was not effected without straggles 
struggles which presented at first a remarkable unity. On 
the day of battle one and the same feeling animated every 
bosom : affer the victory they became divided. Unity of faith 
indeed remained, but the difference of nationalities brought 
into the church a diversity of forms. Of this we are about 
to witness a striking example. The Reformation, which 
had begun its triumphal march in Germany, Switzerland, 
France, and several other parts of the continent, was des- 
tined to receive new strength by the conversion of a cele- 
brated country, long known as the Isle of Saints. This 
island was to add its banner to the trophy of Protestantism, 
but that banner preserved its distinctive colours. When 
England became reformed, a puissant individualism joined 
its might to the great unity. 

If we search for the characteristics of the British Refor- 
mation, we shall find that, beyond any other, they were social, 
national, and truly human. There is no people among 
whom the Reformation has produced to the same degree 
that morality and order, that liberty, public spirit, and ac- 
tivity, which are the very essence of a nation's greatness. 
Just as the papacy has degraded the Spanish peninsula, has 
the gospel exalted the British islands. Hence the study 
upon which we are entering possesses an interest peculiar 
to itself. 

In order that this study may be useful, it should have a 
character of universality. To confine the history of a people 
within the space of a few years, or even of a century, would 
deprive that history of both truth and life. We might in- 
deed have traditions, chronicles, and legends, but there 
would be no history. History is a wonderful organization, 
no part of which can be retrenched. To understand the 
present, we must know the past. Society, like man him- 
self, has its infancy, youth, maturity, and old age. Ancient 
or Pagan society, which had spent its infancy in the East 
in the midst of the antihellenic races, had its youth in the 
animated epoch of the Greeks, its manhood in the stern 
period of Roman greatness, and its old age under the decline 
of the empire. Modern society has passed through analpr 



THE GOSPEL CARRIED TO BRITAIN. 1& 

gous stages : at the time of the Reformation it attained that 
of the full-grown man. We shall now proceed to trace the 
destinies of the church in England, from the earliest times 
of Christianity. These long and distant preparations are 
one of the distinctive characteristics of its reformation. 

Before the sixteenth century this church had passed 
through two great phases. 

The first was that of its formation the second that of its 
corruption. 

In its formation it was oriento-apostolical. 

In its corruption it was successively national-papistical 
and royal-papistical. 

After these two degrees of decline came the last and great 
phasis of the Reformation. 

In the second century of the Christian era vessels were 
frequently sailing to the savage shores of Britain from the 
ports of Asia Minor, Greece, Alexandria, or the Greek 
colonies in Gaul. Among the merchants busied in calculat- 
ing the profits they could make upon tbe produce of the 
East with which their ships were laden, would occasionally 
be found a few pious men from the banks of the Meander or 
the Hermus, conversing peacefully with one another about 
the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, 
and rejoicing at the prospect of saving by these glad tidings 
the pagans towards whom they were steering. It would 
appear that some British prisoners of war, having learnt 
to know Christ during their captivity, bore also to their 
fellow-countrymen the knowledge of, this Saviour. It may 
be, too, that some Christian soldiers, the Corneliuses of those 
imperial armies whose advanced posts reached the southern 
parts of Scotland, desirous of more lasting conquests, may 
have read to the people whom they had subdued, the writings 
of Matthew, John, and Paul. It is of little consequence to 
know whether one of these first converts was, according to 
tradition, a prince named Lucius. It is certain that the 
tidings of the Son of man, crucified and raised again, under 
Tiberius, spread through these islands more rapidly than the 
dominion of the emperors, and that before the end of the 



20 CULDEES. 

second century many churches worshipped Christ beyond 
the walls of Adrian ; in those mountains, forests, and west- 
ern isles, which for centuries past the Druids had filled with 
their mysteries and their sacrifices, and on which even the 
Roman eagles had never stooped.* These churches were 
formed after the eastern type : the Britons would have re- 
fused to receive the type of that Rome whose yoke they 
detested. 

The first thing which the British Christians received from 
the capital of the empire was persecution. But Diocletian, 
by striking the disciples of Jesus Christ in Britain, only in- 
creased their number. f Many Christians from the southern 
part of the island took refuge in Scotland, where they raised 
their humble roofs, and under the name of Culdees prayed 
for the salvation of their protectors. When the surrounding 
pagans saw the holiness of these men of God, they aban- 
doned in great numbers their sacred oaks, their mysterious 
caverns, and their blood-stained altars, and obeyed the gentle 
voice of the Gospel. After the death of these pious refugees, 
their cells were transformed into houses of prayer.j: In 305 
Constantius Chlorus succeeded to the throne of the Csesars, 
and put an end to the persecution. 

The Christianity which was brought to these people by 
merchants, soldiers, or missionaries, although not the eccle- 
siastical Catholicism already creeping into life in the Roman 
empire, was not the primitive evangelism of the apostles. 
The East and the South could only give to the North of 
what they possessed. The mere human period had suc- 
ceeded to the creative and miraculous period of the church. 
After the extraordinary manifestations of the Holy Ghost, 
which had produced the apostolic age, the church had been 
left to the inward power of the word and of the Comforter. 

* Britannorum inaccessa Romanis loca Christo vero subdita. (Ter- 
tullian contra Judseos, lib. vii.) This work, from its bearing no traces 
of Montanism, seems to belong to the .first part of Tertullian's life. See 
also Origen in Lucam, cap. i. liomil. 6. 

+ Lactantius, de mortibus persecutorum, cap. xii. 

J Multi ex Brittonibus Christian! soevitiam Diocletiani timentes ad 

eos confugerant ut vita functorrm cellse in templa commutarentur 

Buchanan, iv. o. xxxv. 



FORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL CATHOLICISM. 21 

But Christians did not generally comprehend the spiritual 
life to which they were called. God had been pleased to 
give them a divine religion ; and this they gradually assi- 
milated more and more to the religions of human origin. 
Instead of saying, in the 'spirit of the Gospel, the word of 
God first, and through it the doctrine and the life the doc- 
trine and the life, and through them the forms ; they said, 
forms first, and salvation by these forms. They ascribed to 
bishops a power which belongs only to Holy Scripture. 
Instead of ministers of the word, they desired to have 
priests ; instead of an inward sacrifice, a sacrifice offered on 
the altar ; and costly temples instead of a living church. 
They began to seek in men, in ceremonies, and in holy 
places, what they could find only in the Word and in the 
lively faith of the children of God. In this manner evan- 
gelical religion gave place to Catholicism, and by gradual 
degeneration in after-years Catholicism gave birth to popery. 

This grievous transformation took place more particularly 
in the East, in Africa, and in Italy. Britain was at first 
comparatively exempt. At the very time 1 that the savage 
Picts and Scots, rushing from their heathen homes, were 
devastating the country, spreading terror on all sides, and 
reducing the people to slavery, we discover here and there 
some humble Christian receiving salvation not by a clerical 
sacramentalism, but by the work of the Holy Ghost in the 
heart. At the end of the fourth century we meet with an 
illustrious example of such conversions. 

On the picturesque banks of the Clyde, not far from Glas- 
gow, in the Christian village of Bonavern, now Kilpatrick, 
a little boy, of tender heart, lively temperament, and inde- 
fatigable activity, passed the earlier days of his life. He 
was born about the year 372 A.D., of a British family, and 
was named Succat.* His father, Calpurnius, deacon of the 
church of Bonavern, a simple-hearted pious man, and his 
mother, Conchessa, sister to the celebrated Martin, arch- 
bishop of Tours,j and a woman superior to the majority of 

* In baptismo baud Patricium sed Succat a pareutibus fuisse dictum. 
Usser. Brit. Eccl. Antiq. p. 428. 
f Martini Turonum archiepiscopi consanguineam. Ibid. 



22 SUCCAT HIS CONVERSION. 

her sex, had endeavoured to instil into his heart the doc- 
trines of Christianity ; but Succat did not understand them. 
He was fond of pleasure, and delighted to be the leader of 
his youthful companions. In the midst of his frivolities, he 
committed a serious fault. 

Some few years later, his parents having quitted Scot- 
land and settled in Armorica (Bretagne), a terrible calamity 
befell them. One day as Succat was playing near the sea- 
shore with two of his sisters, some Irish pirates, commanded 
by O'Neal, carried them all three off to their boats, and sold 
them in Ireland to the petty chieftain of some pagan clan. 
Succat was sent into the fields to keep swine.* It was while 
alone in these solitary pastures, without priest and without 
temple, that the young slave called to mind the Divine, 
lessons which his pious mother had so often read to him. 
The fault which he had committed pressed heavily night 
and day upon his soul: he groaned in heart, and wept. 
He turned repenting towards that meek Saviour of whom 
Conchessa had so often spoken ; he fell at His knees in that 
heathen land, and imagined he felt the arms of a father 
uplifting the prodigal son. Succat was then born from on 
high, but by an agent so spiritual, so internal, that he knew 
not " whence it cometh or whither it goeth." The gospel 
was written with the finger of God on the tablets of his heart. 
" I was sixteen years old," said he, " and knew not the true 
God; but in that strange land the Lord opened my unbelieving 
eyes, and, although late, I called my sins to mind, and was 
converted with my whole heart to the Lord my God, who 
regarded my low estate, had pity on my youth and ignor- 
ance, and consoled me as a father consoles his children."-J- 

Such words as these from the lips of a swineherd in the 
green pastures of Ireland set clearly before us the Christianity 
which in the fourth and fifth centuries converted many souls 
in the British isles. In after-years, Rome established the 
dominion of the priest and salvation by forms, independently 

* Cujus porcorum pastor erat. Usser. Brit. Eccl. Antiq. p. 431. 

t Et ibi Dominus aperuit sensum incredulitatis mese, ut vel sero remo 
rarem delicta mea, et ut converterer toto corde ad Dominum Deum meum. 
Patr. Confess. Usser. 431. 



EVANGELICAL FAITH. 23 

of the dispositions of the heart ; but the primitive religion of 
these celebrated islands was that living Christianity whose 
substance is the grace of Jesus Christ, and whose power is 
the grace of the Holy Ghost. The herdsman from the banks 
of the Clyde was then undergoing those experiences wliteh 
so many evangelical Christians in those countries have sub- 
sequently undergone. " The love of God increased more 
and more in me," said he, " with faith and the fear of His 
name. The Spirit urged me to such a degree that I poured 
forth as many as a hundred prayers in one day. And even 
during the night, in the forests and on the mountains where 
I kept my flock, the rain, and snow, and frost, and sufferings 
which I endured, excited me to seek after God. At that 
time, I felt not the indifference which now I feel : the Spirit 
fermented in my heart."* Evangelical faith even then ex- 
isted in the British islands in the person of this slave, and 
of some few Christians born again, like him, from on high. 

Twice a captive and twice rescued, Succat, after returning 
to liis family, felt an irresistible appeal in his heart. It was 
his duty to carry the gospel to those Irish pagans among 
whom he had found Jesus Christ. His parents and his friends 
endeavoured in vain to detain him ; the same ardent desire 
pursued him in his dreams. During the silent watches of 
the night he fancied he heard voices calling to him from the 
dark forests of Erin : " Come, holy child, and walk once 
more among us." He awoke in tears, his breast filled with 
the keenest emotion.-]- He tore himself from the arms of his 
parents, and rushed forth not as heretofore with his play- 
fellows, when he would climb the summit of some lofty hill 
but with a heart full of charity in Christ. He departed ; 
" It was not done of my own strength," said he; "it was 
God who overcame all." 

Succat, afterwards known as Saint Patrick, and to which 
name, as to that of Saint Peter and other servants of God, 

* Ut ctiam in sylvis ct monte^ manebam, ct ante lucem cxcitabar ad 

orationem per nivcm, per gelu, per pluviam quia tune Spiritus in me 

fervebat. Pair. Confess. Usser. 432. 

f Valde compuuctua sum corde et sic expergefactus. Patr. Confess. 
Usser. 433. 



24 PATRICK'S MISSION PELAGIUS. 

many superstitions have been attached, returned to Ireland, 
but without visiting Rome, as an historian of the twelfth 
century has asserted.* Ever active, prompt, and ingenious, 
he collected the pagan tribes in the fields by beat of drum, 
antl then narrated to them in their own tongue the history 
of the Son of God. Erelong his simple recitals exercised a 
divine power over their rude hearts, and many souls were 
converted, not by external sacraments or by the worship of 
images, but by the preaching of the word of God. The son 
of a chieftain whom Patrick calls Benignus, learnt from him 
to proclaim the Gospel, and was destined to succeed him. 
The court bard, Dubrach Mac Valubair, no longer sang 
druidical hymns, but canticles addressed to Jesus Christ. 
Patrick was not entirely free from the errors of the time ; 
perhaps he believed in pious miracles ; but generally speak- 
ing we meet with nothing but the gospel in the earlier days 
of the British church. The time no doubt will come when 
Ireland will again feel the power of the Holy Ghost, which 
had once converted it by the ministrations of a Scotchman. 
Shortly before the evangelization of Patrick in Ireland, a 
Briton named Pelagius, having visited Italy, Africa, and 
Palestine, began to teach a strange doctrine. Desirous of 
making head against the moral indifference into which most 
of the Christians in those countries had fallen, and which 
would appear to have been in strong contrast with the 
British austerity, he denied the doctrine of original sin, ex- 
tolled free-will, and maintained that, if man made use of all 
the powers of his nature, he would attain perfection. We 
do not find that he taught these opinions in his own coun- 
try ; but from the continent, where he disseminated them, 
they soon reached Britain. The British churches refused 
to receive this "pervers% doctrine," their historian tells us, 
"and to blaspheme the grace of Jesus Christ." f They do 
not appear to have held the strict doctrine of Saint Augus- 
tine : they believed indeed that man has need of an inward 



* Jocelinus, Vita in Acta Sanctorum. 

f- Verum Britanni cum neque suscipero dogma perversum, gratiam 
Christi blasphernando nulla teuus vellent. Beda, Hist. Angl., lib. i.- cap. 
irii. et xxi. 



SAXON INVASION. 25 

change, and that this the divine power alone can effect ; but 
like the churches of Asia, from which they had sprung, they 
seem to have conceded something to our natural strength in 
the work of conversion ; and Pelagius, with a good inten- 
tion it would appear, went still further. However that may 
be, these churches, strangers to the controversy, were unac- 
quainted with all its subtleties. Two Gaulish bishops, Ger- 
manus and Lupus, came to their aid, and those who had 
been perverted returned into the way of truth.* 

Shortly after this, events of great importance took place 
in Great Britain, and the light of faith disappeared in pro- 
found night. In 449, Hengist and Horsa, with their Saxon 
followers, being invited by the wretched inhabitants to aid 
them against the cruel ravages of the Picts and Scots, soon 
turned their swords against the people they had come to 
assist. Christianity was driven back with the Britons into 
the mountains of Wales and the wild moors of Northumber- 
land and Cornwall. Many British families remained in the 
midst of the conquerors, but without exercising any religious 
influence over them. While the conquering races, settled 
at Paris, Ravenna, or Toledo, gradually laid aside their 
paganism and savage manners, the barbarous customs of 
the Saxons prevailed unmoderated throughout the kingdoms 
of the Heptarchy, and in every quarter temples to Thor rose 
above the churches in which Jesus Christ had been wor- 
shipped. Gaul and the south of Europe, which still exhib- 
ited to the eyes of the barbarians the last vestiges of Ro- 
man grandeur, alone had the power of inspiring some degree 
of respect in the formidable Germans, and of transforming 
their faith. From this period, the Greeks and Latins, and 
even the converted Goths, looked at this island with unut- 
terable dread. The soil, said they, is covered with ser- 
pents ; the air is thick with deadly exhalations ; the souls of 
the departed are transported thither at midnight from the 
shores of Gaul. Ferrymen, and sons of Erebus and Night, 
admit these invisible shades into their boats, and listen, with a 
shudder, to their mysterious whisperings. England, whence 

* Depravati viam corrcctionis agnoscereiit. Beda, Hist. Angl., lib. L 
cap. xvii. ct xxi. 

2* B 



26 PAGANISM KESTOKED. 

light was one clay to be shed over the habitable globe, was 
then the trysting-place of the dead. And yet the Christianity 
of the British isles was not to be annihilated by these bar- 
barian invasions ; it possessed a strength which rendered it 
capable of energetic resistance. 

In one of the churches formed by Succat's preaching, 
there arose about two centuries after him a pious man 
named Columba, son of Feidlimyd, the son of Fergus. 
Valuing the cross of Christ more highly than the royal 
blood that flowed in his veins, he resolved to devote him- 
self to the King of heaven. Shall he not repay to the 
country of Succat what Succat had imparted to his ? "I 
vill go," said he, " and preach the word of God ui Scot- 
land;"* for the word of God and not an ecclesiastical hier- 
archism was then the converting agency. The grandson of 
Fergus communicated the zeal which animated him to the 
hearts of several fellow-christians. They repaired to the 
seashore, and cutting down the pliant branches of the 
osier, constructed a frail bark, which they covered with the 
skins of beasts. In this rude boat they embarked in the 
year 565, and after being driven to and fro on the ocean, the 
little missionary band reached the waters of the Hebrides. 
Columba landed near the barren rocks of Mull, to the south 
of the basaltic caverns of Staffa, and fixed his abode in a 
small island, afterwards known as lona or Icolmkill, " the 
island of Columba's cell." Some Christian Culdees, driven 
out by the dissensions of the Picts and Scots, had already 
found a refuge in the same retired spot. Here the mission- 
aries erected a chapel, whose walls, it is said, still exist 
among the stately ruins of a later age.-j- Some authors 
have placed Columba in the first rank after the apostles. :J: 
True, we do not find in him the faith of a Paul or a John ; 
but he lived as in the sight of God ; he mortified the flesh, 
and slept on the ground with a stone for his pillow. Amid 

* Praedicaturus verbum Dei. Usser. Antiq. p. 359. 

f I visited lona in 1845 with Dr Patrick M'Farlan, and saw these 
ruins. One portion of the building seems to be of primitive architec- 
ture. 

J Nulli post apostolos secundus. Notker. 



COLUMBA HIS TEACHING. 27 

this solemn scenery, and among customs so rude, the form 
of the missionary, illumined by a light from heaven, shone 
with love, and manifested the joy and serenity of his heart. * 
Although subject to the same passions as ourselves, he 
wrestled against his weakness, and would not have one 
moment lost for the glory of God. He prayed and read, 
he wrote and taught, he preached and redeemed the time. 
With indefatigable activity he went from house to house, 
and from kingdom to kingdom. The king of the Picts was 
converted, as were also many of his people ; precious manu- 
scripts were conveyed to lona; a school of theology was 
founded there, in which the word was studied ; and many 
received through faith the salvation which is in Christ 
Jesus. Erelong a missionary spirit breathed over this 
ocean rock, so justly named " the light of the western world." 
The Judaical sacerdotalism which was beginning to ex- 
tend in the Christian church found no support in lona. 
They had forms, but not to them did they look for life. It 
was the Holy Ghost, Columba maintained, that made a ser- 
vant of God. When the youth of Caledonia assembled 
around the elders on these savage shores, or in their humble 
chapel, these ministers of the Lord would say to them: 
"The Holy Scriptures are the only rule of faith. {- Throw 
aside all merit of works, and look for salvation to the grace 
of God alone, f Beware of a religion which consists of out- 
ward observances : it is better to keep your heart pure be- 
fore God than to abstain from meats. One alone is your 
head, Jesus Christ. Bishops and presbyters are equal ; || 
they should be the husbands of one wife, and have their 
children in subjection."^ 

Qui de prosapia regali claruit , x 
Sed morum gratia magis emicuit. 

Usser. Antiq. p. 360. 

f Prolatis Sanctaj Scripturso testimoniis. Adomn. 1. i. c. 22. 
J Bishop Munter, Altbritische Kirche. Stud, und Krit. vi. 745. 
Meliores sunt ergo qui non magno opere jejunant, cor intrinsecua 
nitidum coram Deo soUicite servantes. Gildas in ejusd. Synod. Ap- 
pend. 

|| In Hibernia episcopi et presbyteri unum sunt. Ekkehardi liber. 
ATX. Geschichte von S. Gall. i. 267. 
V Patrcm habui Calpornium diaconum filium quondam Potiti Presby- 



28 PKESBYTERY AND EPISCOPACY. 

The sages of lona knew nothing of transubstantiation or 
of the withdrawal of the cup in the Lord's Supper, or of 
auricular confession, or of prayers to the dead, or tapers, or 
incense ; they celebrated Easter on a different day from 
Rome;* synodal assemblies regulated the affairs of the 
church, and the papal supremacy was unknown. -J- The sun 
of the gospel shone upon these wild and distant shores. In 
after-years, it was the privilege of Great Britain to recover 
with a purer lustre the same sun and the same gospel. 

lona, governed by a simple elder, J had become a mission- 
ary college. It has been sometimes called a monastery, but 
the dwelling of the grandson of Fergus in nowise resembled 
the popish convents. When its youthful inmates desired 
to spread the knowledge of Jesus Christ, they thought not 
of going elsewhere in quest of episcopal ordination. Kneel- 
ing in the chapel of Icolmkill, they were set apart by the 
laying on of the hands of the elders: they were called 
bishops, but remained obedient to the elder or presbyter of 
lona. They even consecrated other bishops: thus Finan 
laid hands upon Diuma, bishop of Middlesex. These British 
Christians attached great importance to the ministry ; but 
not to one form in preference to another. Presbytery and 
episcopacy were with them, as with the primitive church, 
almost identical. Somewhat later we find that neither the 
venerable Bede, nor Lanfranc, nor Anselm the two last 

teri. Patricii Confessio. Even as late as the twelfth century we meet 
with married Irish bishops. Bernard, Vita Malachise, cap. x. 

* In die quidem dominica alia tamen quam dicebat hebdomade celebra- 
bant. Beda, lib. iii. cap. iv. 

t Augustinus novam religionem docet dum ad unius episcopi ro- 

mani dominatum omnia revocat. Buchan. lib. v. cap. xxxvi. 

J Habere autem solet ipsa insula rectorem semper abbatem presby- 
tcrum cujus juri et omnis provincia et ipsi eliam episcopi, ordine inusi- 
tato, debeant esse subjecti, juxta exemplum primi doctoris illius qui 
non episcopus sed presbyter exstitit et monachus. Beda, Hist. Eccl., iii. 
cap. iv. 

Idem est ergo presbyter qui episcopus, et antequam diaboli instinctu 

studia in religione fierent communi presbyterorum concilio Ecclcsire 

gubernabantur. Indifierenter de episcopo quasi de presbytero est loquu- 
tus(Paulus) .... sciant episcopi se, magis consuetudine quam dispositionis 
dominicse veritate, presbyteris esse majores. Hieronymus ad Titum, 
i.5. 



CONTINENTAL MISSIONS. 29 

were archbishops of Canterbury made any objection to the 
ordinatjpn of British bishops by plain presbyters.* The re- 
ligious and moral element that belongs to Christianity still 
predominated; the sacerdotal element, which characterizes 
human religions, whether among the Brahmins or elsewhere, 
was beginning to show itself, but. in Great Britain at least 
it held a very subordinate station. Christianity was still a 
religion and not a caste. They did not require of the ser- 
vant of God, as a warrant of his capacity, a long list of 
names succeeding one another like the beads of a rosary; 
they entertained serious, noble, and holy ideas of the minis- 
try; its authority proceeded wholly from Jesus Christ its 
head. , 

The missionary fire, which the grandson of Fergus had 
kindled in a solitary island, soon spread over Great Britain. 
Not in lona alone, but at Bangor and other places, the spirit 
of evangelization burst out. A fondness for travelling had 
already become a second nature in this people.-|- Men of 
God, burning with zeal, resolved to carry the evangelical 
torch tp the continent to the vast wildernesses sprinkled 
here and thexe with barbarous and heathen tribes. They 
did not set forth as antagonists of Rome, for at that epoch 
there was no place for suqh antagonism; but lona and 
Bangor, less illustrious than Rome in the history of nations, 
possessed a more lively faith than the city of the Caesars ; 
and that faith, unerring sign of the presence of Jesus 
Christ, gave those whom it inspired a right to evangelize 
the world, which Rome could not gainsay. 

The missionary bishopsf of Britain accordingly set forth 
and traversed the Low Countries, Gaul, Switzerland, Ger- 
many, and even Italy. The free church of the Scots and 

* Bishop Munter makes this remark in his dissertation On tJie An- 
ciint British Nation, about the primitive identity of bishops and 
priests, and episcopal consecration. Stud, und Krit. an. 1833. 

f Natio Scotorum quibus consuetude peregrinandi jam paene in 
oaturam con versa* est. Vita S. Galli, 47. 

\ They were called episcopi rfyionarii because they had no settled 
dincese. 

Autiquo tempore doctissimi sulebant magistri de Hibernia Brit- 
anniam. Gallium, Italiam venire, et iiiultos per ecclesiaa Christ! fc 
OUM profcctus. Aleuin, Epp. ccxxi. 



30 COLUMUANUS. 

Britons did more for the conversion of central Europe than 
the half-enslaved church of the Romans. These missionaries 
were not haughty and insolent like the priests of Italy ; but 
supported themselves by the work of their hands. Colum- 
banus (whom we must not confound with Columba),* 
" feeling in his heart the burning of the fire which the Lord 
had kindled upon earth," f quitted Bangor in 590 with 
twelve other missionaries, and carried the gospel to the 
Burgundians, Franks, and Swiss. He continued to preach 
it amidst frequent persecutions, left his disciple Gall in 
Helvetia, and retired to Bobbio, where he died, honouring 
Christian Rome, but placing the church of Jerusalem above 
it, J exhorting it to beware of corruption, and declaring 
that the power would remain with it so long only as it re- 
tained the true doctrine (recta ratio}. Thus was Britain 
faithful in planting the standard of Christ in the heart of 
Europe. We might almost imagine this unknown people 
to be a new Israel, and Icolmkill and Bangor to have in- 
herited the virtues of Zion. 

Yet they should have done more: they should have 
preached not only to the continental heathens, to those in 
the north of Scotland and the distant Ireland, but also to 
the still pagan Saxons of England. It is true that they 
made several attempts; but while the Britons considered 
their conquerors as the enemies of God and man, and 
shuddered while they pronounced their name, the Saxons 
refused to be converted by the voice of their slaves. By ne- 
glecting this field, the Britons left room for other workmen, 
and thus it was that England yielded to a foreign power, be- 
neath whose heavy yoke it long groaned in vain. 

* Thierry, in his Hist, de la Conquite de I 'Angleterre, makes Columba 
and Columbanus one personage. Columba preached the Gospel in Scot- 
land about 560, and died in 597 ; Columbanus preached among the Bur- 
gundians in 600, and died in 615. 

f Ignitum igne Domini desiderium. Mabillon, Acj;a, p. 9. 

J Salva loci dominicae resurrectionis singulars prcerogativa. Columb. 
Vita, 10. 

Nefandi nominis Saxoni Deo hominibusque invisi. Gildas, De ex 
cidio Britannise. 



OBEUOKY TUB GREAT. 31 



CHAPTER II. 

Pope Gregory the Great Desires to reduce Britain Policy of Gregory 
and Augustine Arrival of the Mission Appreciation Britain supe- 
rior to Rome Dionoth at Bangor First and Second Romish Aggres- 
sions Anguish of the Britons Pride of Rome Rome has recourse to 
the Sword Massacre Saint Peter scourges an Archbishop Oswald 
His Victory Corman Mission of Oswald and Aidan Death of 
Oswald. 



IT is matter of fact that the spiritual life had waned in Ita- 
lian Catholicism; and in proportion as the heavenly spirit 
had become weak, the lust of dominion had grown strong. 
The Roman metropolitans and their delegates soon became 
impatient to mould all Christendom to their peculiar forms. 
About the end of the sixth century an eminent man filled 
the see of Rome. Gregory was born of senatorial family, 
and already on the high road to honour, when he suddenly 
renounced the world, and transformed the palace of his 
fathers into a convent. But his ambition had only changed 
its object. In his views, the whole church should submit 
to the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of Rome. True, he rejected 
the title of universal bishop assumed by the patriarch of Con- 
stantinople ; but if he desired not the name, he was not the 
less eager for the substance.* On the borders of the West, 
in the island of Great Britain, was a Christian church inde- 
pendent of Rome : this must be conquered, and a favourable 
opportunity soon occurred. 

Before his elevation to the primacy, and while he was as 
yet only the monk Gregory, he chanced one day to cross a 
market in Rome where certain foreign dealers were exposing 
their wares for sale. Among them he perceived some fair- 

* He says (pp. lib. ix. ep. xii.) : De Constantinopolitana eoeleaia 
quis earn dubitct apostolicaa sedi esse subjectam 1 



32 DETERMINES TO SUBDUE BRITAIN. 

haired youthful slaves, whose noble bearing attracted his 
attention. On drawing near them, he learned that the 
Anglo-Saxon nation to which they belonged had refused 
to receive the gospel from the Britons. When he afterwards 
became bishop of Eome, this crafty and energetic pontiff, 
" the last of the good and the first of the bad," as he has 
been called, determined to convert these proud conquerors, 
and make use of them in subduing the British church to the 
papacy, as he had already made use of the Frank monarchs 
to reduce the Gauls. Eome has often shown herself more 
eager to bring Christians rather than idolaters to the pope.* 
Was it thus with Gregory ? We must leave the question 
unanswered. 

Ethelbert, king of Kent, having married a Christian princess 
of Frank descent, the Eonym bishop thought the conjunc- 
ture favourable for his design, and despatched a mission un- 
der the direction of one of his friends named Augustine, A.D. 
596. At first the missionaries recoiled from the task ap- 
pointed them ; but Gregory was firm. Desirous of gaining 
the assistance of the Frank kings, Theodoric and Theode- 
bert, he affected to consider them as the lords paramount of 
England, and commended to them the conversion of their 
subjects.-^ Nor was this all. He claimed also the support 
of the powerful Brunehilda, grandmother of these two kings, 
and equally notorious for her treachery, her irregularities r 
and her crimes ; and did not scruple to extol the good works 
and godly fear of this modern Jezebel.J Under such aus- 
pices the Eomish mission arrived in England. The pope 
had made a skilful choice of his delegate. Augustine pos- 
sessed even to a greater extent than Gregory himself a mix- 
ture of ambition and devotedness, of superstition and piety, 
of cunning and zeal. He thought that faith and holiness 
were less essential to the church than authority and power ; 
and that its prerogative was 'not so much to save souls as 

* We know the history of Tahiti and of other modern missions of the 
Romish church. 

f- Subjectos vestros. Opp. Gregorii, torn. iv. p. 334. 

$. Prona in bonis operibua... in omnipotentis Dei timore. Ibid. 

torn. ii. p. 835. 



ARRIVAL OF THE MISSION. 33 

(.0 collect all the human race under the sceptre of Rome.* 
Gregory himself was distressed at Augustine's spiritual pride, 
and often exhorted him to humility. 

Success of that kind which popery desires soon crowned 
the labours of its servants. The forty-one missionaries hav- 
ing landed in the isle of Thanet, in the year 597, the king 
of Kent consented to receive them, but in the open air, for 
fear of magic. They drew up in such a manner as to pro- 
duce an effect on the rude islanders. The procession was 
opened by a monk bearing a huge cross on which the figure 
of Christ was represented : his colleagues followed chanting 
their Latin hymns, and thus they approached the oak ap- 
pointed for the place of conference. They inspired sufficient 
confidence in Ethelbert to gain permission to celebrate their 
worship in an old ruinous chapel at Durovern (Canterbury), 
where British Christians had in former times adored the 
Saviour Christ. The king and thousands of his subjects 
received not long after, with certain forms, and certain 
Christian doctrines, the errors of the Roman pontiffs as 
purgatory, for instance, which Gregory was advocating with 
the aid of the most absurd fables.t Augustine baptized ten 
thousand pagans in one day. As yet Rome had only set 
her foot in Great Britain; she did not fail erelong to establish 
her kingdom there. 

We should be unwilling to undervalue the religious ele- 
ment now placed before the Anglo-Saxons, and we can 
readily believe that many of the missionaries sent from 
Italy desired to work a Christian work. We think, too, 
that the Middle Ages ought to be appreciated with more 
equitable sentiments than have always been found in the 
persons who have written on that period. Man's conscience 
lived, spoke, and groaned during the long dominion of 
popery; and like a plant growing among thorns, it often 
succeeded in forcing a passage through the obstacles of 
traditionalism and hierarchy, to blossom in the quickening 
sun of God's grace. The Christian element is even strongly 

* We find the same idea in Wiseman, Lect. ix., On the principal doo 
trines and practices of the Catholic Church. Loud. 1836. 
t Hoepfner, De origine dogmatis do purgatorio. Halle, 1792. 

B2 



34 BRITAIN SUPERIOR TO ROME. 

marked in some of the most eminent men of the theocracy 
in Anselm for instance. 

Yet as it is our task to relate the history of the struggles 
which took place between primitive Christianity and Ro- 
man-catholicism, we cannot forbear pointing out the supe- 
riority of the former in a religious light, while we acknow- 
ledge the superiority of the latter in a political point of 
view. We believe (and we shall presently have a proof of 
it)* that a visit to lona would have taught the Anglo- 
Saxons much more than their frequent pilgrimages to the 
banks of the Tiber. Doubtless, as has been remarked, these 
pilgrims contemplated at Rome " the noble monuments of 
antiquity," but there existed at that time in the British 
islands and it has been too often overlooked a Chris- 
tianity which, if not perfectly pure, was at least better than 
that of popery. The British church, which at the beginning 
of the seventh century carried faith and civilization into 
Burgundy, the Vosges mountains, and Switzerland, might 
well have spread them both over Britain. The influence of 
the arts, whose civilizing influence we are far from depre- 
ciating, would have come later. 

But so far was the Christianity of the Britons from con- 
verting the Saxon heptarchy, that it was, alas! the Ro- 
manism of the heptarchy which was destined to conquer 
Britain. These struggles between the Roman and British 
churches, which fill all the seventh century, are of the 
highest importance to the English church, for they establish 
clearly its primitive liberty. They possess also great in- 
terest for the other churches of the West, as showing in the 
most striking characters the usurping acts by which the 
papacy eventually reduced them beneath its yoke. 

Augustine, appointed archbishop not only of the Saxons, 
but of the free Britons, was settled by papal ordinance, first 
at London and afterwards at Canterbury. Being at the 
head of a hierarchy composed of twelve bishops, he soon 
attempted to bring all the Christians of Britain under the 
Roman jurisdiction. At that time there existed at Bangor,-f- 

* In the history of Oswald, king of Northumberland. 

t Bann-cor, the choir on tho steep hill. Carlisle, Top. Diet. Wales. 



DIONOTH AT BANGOR. 35 

in North Wales, a large Christian society, amounting to 
nearly three thousand individuals, collected together to work 
with their own hands,* to study, and to pray, and from whose 
bosom numerous missionaries (Columbanus was among the 
number) had from time to time gone forth. The president of 
this church was Dionoth, a faithful teacher, ready to serve 
all men in charity, yet firmly convinced that no one should 
have supremacy in the Lord's vineyard. Although one of 
the most influential men in the British church, he was 
somewhat timid and hesitating ; he would yield to a certain 
point for the love of peace ; but would never flinch from his 
duty. He was another apostle John, full of mildness, and 
yet condemning the Diotrephes, who love to have pre-emin- 
ence among the brethren. Augustine thus addressed him : 
" Acknowledge the authority of the Bishop of Rome." These 
are the first words of the papacy to the ancient Christians of 
Britain. " We desire to love all men," meekly replied the 
venerable Briton : " and what we do for you, we will do for 
him also whom you call the pope. But he is not entitled to 
call himself the father of fathers, and the only submission 
we can render him is that which we owe to every Chris- 
tian.''-!- This was not what Augustine asked. 

He was not discouraged by this first check. Proud of the 
pallium which Rome had sent him, and relying on the swords 
of the Anglo-Saxons, he convoked in 601 a general assem- 
bly of British and Saxon bishops. The meeting took place 
in the open air, beneath a venerable oak, near Wigornia 
(Worcester or Hereford), and here occurred the second 
Romish aggression. Dionoth resisted with firmness the 
extravagant pretensions of Augustine, who again summoned 
him to recognise the authority of Rome.J Another Briton 
protested against the presumption of the Romans, who as- 
cribed to their consecration a virtue which they refused to 

* Are unicuiquc dabatur, ut ex opere manuum quotidiano se posset in 
victu necessario contiuere. Preuves do I'hist. do Bretagne, ii. 25. 

f Istam obedientiam DOS sumus parati dare et solvere ei et cuique 
Christiana continue. Wilkins, Cone. M. Brit. i. 26. 

Dionothus de non approbaud* apud eos Romanorum auctoritate dis- 
putabat. I bid. 24. 



36 DISTRESS OP THE BRITONS. 

that of lona or of the Asiatic churches. * The Britons, 
exclaimed a third, " cannot submit either to the haughtiness 
of the Romans or the tyranny of the Saxons." f To no pur- 
pose did the archbishop lavish his arguments, prayers, cen- 
sures, and miracles even ; the Britons were firm. Some of 
them who had eaten with the Saxons while they were as 
yet heathens, refused to do so now that they had submitted 
to the pope. :{: The Scotch were particularly inflexible ; for 
one of their number, by name Dagam, would not only take 
no food at the same table with the Romans, but not even 
under the same roof. Thus did Augustine fail a second 
time, and the independence of Britain appeared secure. 

And yet the formidable power of the popes, aided by the 
sword of the conquerors, alarmed the Britons. They imag- 
ined they saw a mysterious decree once more yoking the 
nations of the earth to the triumphal car of Rome, and many 
left Wigornia uneasy and sad at heart. How is it possible 
to save a cause, when even its defenders begin to despair ? 
It was not long before they were summoned to a n*ew coun- 
cil. " What is to be done ?" they exclaimed with sorrowful 
forebodings. Popery was not yet thoroughly known : it was 
hardly formed. The half-enlightened consciences of these 
believers were a prey to the most violent agitation. They 
asked themselves whether, in rejecting this new power, the} 
might not be rejecting God himself. A pious Christian, who 
led a solitary life, had acquired a great reputation in the 
surrounding district. Some of the Britons visited him, and 
inquired whether they should resist Augustine or follow him. || 
" If he is a man of God, follow him," replied the hermit. 
" And how shall we know that ?" " If he is meek and hum- 

* Ordinationesque more asiatico eisdem contulisse. Wilkins, Cone. 
M. Brit. 24. 

f In communionem admittere vel Romanorum fastuin vel Saxonum 
tyrannidem. Ibid. 26. 

t According to the apostolic precept, 1 Cor. v. 9-11. 

Dagamus ad nos veniens, non solum cibum irobiscum, sed nee in eodem 
hospitio quo vescebamur, sumere noluit. Beda, lib. ii. cap. iv. 

|| Ad quendam virum sanctum et prudentem qui apud eos anachoreti- 
cam ducere vitam solebat, consulentes an ad prsedicationem Augustinisuas 
doserere traditiones deberent. Beda, Hist. Eccl. lib. ii. cap. ii. 



PRIDE OF ROMS. '61 

ble of heart, he bears Christ's yoke ; but if he is violent and 
proud, he is not 'of God." " What sign shall we have of his 
humility ?" " If he rises from his sent when you enter the 
room." Thus spoke the oracle of Britain : it would have 
been better to have consulted the Holy Scriptures. 

But humility is not a virtue that flourishes among Romish 
pontiffs and legates : they love to remain seated while others 
court and worship them. The British bishops entered the 
council-hall, and the archbishop, desirous of indicating his 
superiority, proudly kept his seat.* Astonished at this sight, 
the Britons would hear no more of the authority of Rome. 
For the third time they said No they knew no other master 
but Christ. Augustine, who expected to see these bishops 
prostrate their churches at his feet, was surprised and indig- 
nant. He had reckoned on the immediate submission of 
Britain, and the pope had now to learn that his missionary' 

had deceived him Animated by that insolent spirit 

which is found too often in the ministers of the Romish 
church, Augustine exclaimed : "" If you will not receive 
brethren who bring you peace, you shall receive enemies who 
will bring you war. If you will not unite with us in show- 
ing the Saxons the way of life, you shall receive from them 
the stroke of death."-f- Having thus spoken, the haughty 
archbishop withdrew, and occupied his last days in preparing 
the accomplishment of his ill-omened prophecy4 Argu- 
ment had failed : now for the sword ! 

Shortly after the death of Augustine, Edelfrid, one of the 
Anglo-Saxon kings, and who was still a heathen, collected a 
numerous army, and advanced towards Bangor, the centre 
of British Christianity. Alarm spread through those feeble 
churches. They wept and prayed. The sword of Edelfrid 
drew nearer. To whom can they apply, or where shall they 

* Factumquo est ut venicntibus illis sederet Augustinus in sella. 
Beda, Hist. Eccl. lib. ii. cap. ii. 

t Si pacem cum fructibus accipcre nollent, bcllum ab hostibus forent 
accepturi Ibid. 

J Ipsum Augustinnm hujus belli non modo consciam sed et impulsoren 
exstitisse. Wilkins adds, that the expression found in Bede, concerning 
the death of Augustine, is a parenthesis foisted in by Romanist writers, 
and not found in tho Saxon manuscripts. Cone. Brit. p. 26. 



38 ROME HAS RECOURSE TO THE SWORD. 

find help ? The magnitude of the danger seemed to reca.,'1 
the Britons to their pristine piety : not to men, but to the 
Lord himself will they turn their thoughts. Twelve hun- 
dred and fifty servants of the living God, calling to mind 
what are the arms of Christian warfare, after preparing them- 
selves by fasting, met together in a retired spot to send up 
their prayers to God.* A British chief, named Brocmail, 
moved by tender compassion, stationed himself near them 
with a few soldiers ; but the cruel Edelfrid, observing from 
a distance this band of kneeling Christians, demanded: 
"Who are these people, and what are they doing?" On 
being informed, he added : " They are fighting then against 
us, although unarmed ;" and immediately he, ordered his 
soldiers to fall upon the prostrate crowd. Twelve hundred 
of them were slain.-j* They prayed and they died. The 
Saxons forthwith proceeded to Bangor, the chief seat of 
Christian learning, and razed it to the ground. Romanism 
was triumphant in England. The news of these massacres 
filled the country with weeping and great mourning ; but 
the priests of Romish consecration (and the venerable Bede 
shared their sentiments) beheld in this cruel slaughter the 
accomplishment of the prophecy of the holy pontiff Augus- 
tine ; \ and a national tradition among the Welsh for many 
ages pointed to him as the instigator of this cowardly but- 
chery. Thus did Rome loose the savage pagan against the 
primitive church of Britain, and fastened it all dripping with 
blood to her triumphal car. A great mystery of iniquity was 
accomplishing. 

But while the Saxon sword appeared to have swept every- 
thing from before the papacy, the ground trembled under its 
feet, and seemed about to swallow it up. The hierarchical 
rather than Christian conversions effected by the priests of 
Rome were so unreal that a vast number of neophytes sud- 
denly returned to the worship of their idols. Eadbald, king 

* Ad memoratam aciem, peracto jejunio triduano, cum aliis orandi 
causa convenerant. Beda, lib. ii.' cap. ii. 

f* Extinctos in ea pugna ferunt de his qui ad orandum venerunt Tiros 
circiter mille ducentos. Ibid. 

t Sic completum est presajiium s;:ncti poEtificis Augustini. Ibid. 



SAINT PETER SCOURGES AN ARCHBISIIOP. 39 

of Kent, was himself among the number of apostates. Such 
reversions to paganism are not unfrequent in the history of 
the Romish missions. The bishops fled into Gaul : Melli- 
tus and Justus had already reached the continent in safety, 
and Lawrence, Augustine's successor, was about to follow 
them. While lying in the church, where he had desired to 
pass the night before leaving England, he groaned in spirit 
as he saw the work founded by Augustine perishing in his 
hands. He saved it by a miracle. The next morning he 
presented himself before the king with his clothes all disor- 
dered and his body covered with wounds. " Saint Peter," 
he said, " appeared to me during the night and scourged me 
severely because I was about to forsake his flock." * The 
scourge was a means of moral persuasion which Peter had 
forgotten in his epistles. Did Lawrence cause these blows 
to be inflicted by others or did he inflict them himself or 
is the whole account an idle dream? "We should prefer 
adopting the latter hypothesis. The superstitious prince, 
excited at the news of this supernatural intervention, eagerly 
acknowledged the authority of the pope, the vicar of an 
apostle who so mercilessly scourged those who had the mis- 
fortune to displease him. If the dominion of Rome had then 
disappeared from England, it is probable that the Britons, 
regaining their courage, and favoured in other respects by 
the wants which would have been felt by the Saxons, would 
have recovered from their defeat, and would have imparted 
their free Christianity to their conquerors. But now the 
Roman bishop seemed to remain master of England, and the 
faith of the Britons to be crushed for ever. But it was not 
so. A young man, sprung from the energetic race of the 
conquerors, was about to become the champion of truth and 
liberty, and almost the whole island to be freed from the 
Roman yoke. 

Oswald, an Anglo-Saxon prince, son of the heathen and 
cruel Edelfrid, had been compelled by family reverses to take 
refuge in Scotland, when very young, accompanied by his 
brother Oswy and several other youthful chiefs. He had 

* Apparuit ei beatissimus apostolorum princeps, ct multo ilium tern* 
poro sccrcta) noctis flagellis acrioribus afficiens. Beda, lib. ii. cap. ri. 



40 OSWALD'S VICTORY. 

acquired the language of the country, been instructed in 
the truths of Holy Writ, converted by the grace of God, and 
baptized into the Scottish church.* He loved to sit at the 
feet of the elders of lona and listen to their words. They 
showed him Jesus Christ going from place to place doing 
good, and he desired to do so likewise ; they told him that 
Christ was the only head of the church, and he promised 
never to acknowledge any other. Being a single-hearted 
generous man, he was especially animated with tender com- 
passion towards the poor, and would take off his own cloak 
to cover the nakedness of one of his brethren. Often, while 
mingling in the quiet assemblies of the Scottish Christians, 
he had desired to go as a missionary to the Anglo-Saxons. 
It was not long before he conceived the bold design of lead- 
ing the people of Northumberland to the Saviour ; but being 
a prince as well as a Christian, he determined to begin by 
reconquering the throne of his fathers. There was in this 
young Englishman the love of a disciple and the courage of 
a hero. At the head of an army, small indeed, but strong 
by faith in Christ,-}- he entered Northumberland, knelt with 
his troops in prayer on the field of battle, and gained a 
signal victory over a powerful enemy, 634 A.D. 

To recover the kingdom of his ancestors was only a part 
v/f his task. Oswald desired to give his people the benefits 
of the true faith.J The Christianity taught in 625 to King 
Edwin and the Northumbrians by Pendin of York had dis- 
appeared amidst the ravages of the pagan armies. Oswald 
requested a missionary from the Scots who had given him 
an asylum, and they accordingly sent one of the brethren 
named Gorman, a pious but uncultivated and austere man. 
He soon returned dispirited to lona : " The people to whom 
you sent me," he told the elders of that island, "are so 
obstinate that we must renounce all idea of changing their 
manners." As Aidan, one of their number, listened to this 

* Cum magna nobilium juventute apud Scotos sive Pictos exulabant, 
ibique ad doctrinam Scottorum cathechisati et baptismatis gratia sunt re- 
creati. Beda, lib. iii. cap. i. 

r Superveniente cum parvo exercitu, sed fide Christ! munito. Ibid. 

$ Desiderans totam cui prseesse ccepit gentem fidei Christianae gratia 
tnibui. Ibid. cap. iii. 



MISSIONS OF AIDAN AND OSWALD. 41 

report, he said to himself: "If thy love had been offered to 
this people, oh, my Saviour, many hearts would have been 

touched! I will go and make Thee known Thee who 

breaketh not the bruised reed!" Then, turning to the mis- 
sionary with a look of mild reproach, he added : " Brother, 
you have been too severe towards hearers so dull of heart. 
You should have given them spiritual milk to drink until 
they were able to receive more solid food." All eyes were 
fixed on the man who spoke so wisely. " Aidan is worthy 
of the episcopate," exclaimed the brethren of lona ; and, like 
Timothy, he was consecrated by the laying on of the hands 
of the company of elders.* 

Oswald received Aidan as an angel from heaven, and as 
the missionary was ignorant of the Saxon language, the 
king accompanied him everywhere, standing by his side, and 
interpreting his gentle discourses.-f- The people crowded 
joyfully around Oswald, Aidan, and other missionaries from 
Scotland and Ireland, listening eagerly to the Word of God.\ 
The king preached by his works still more than by his 
words. One day during Easter, as he was about to take 
his seat at table, he was informed that a crowd of his 
subjects, driven by hunger, had collected before his palace 
gates. Instantly he ordered the food prepared for himself 
to be carried out and distributed among them, and taking 
the silver vessels which stood before him, he broke them in 
pieces and commanded his servants to divide them among 
the poor. He also introduced the knowledge of the Saviour 
to the people of Wessex, whither he had gone to marry the 
king's daughter ; and after a reign of nine years, he died at 
the head of his army while repelling an invasion of the 
idolatrous Mercians, headed by the cruel Penda (5th August 
642 A.D.) As he fell he exclaimed : " Lord, have mercy on 

* Aydanfis accepto gradu episcopatus, qno tempore eodem monasterio 
Segenius abbas et presiyter praefuit. Beda, lib. iii. cap.v. When Bcde tells 
us that a plain priest was president, he excludes the idea that there were 
bishops in the assembly. See 1 Timothy iv. 14. 

f- Evangelisante antistite, ipse Rex suis ducibus ac ministris interpres 
verbi existeret coelestis. Beda, lib. iii. cap. iii. 

J C'onflucbairt ad audiendum verbum Dei populi gaudentes. Ibid. 
YOU T. 8 



42 * DEATH OF OSWALD. 

the souls of my people!" This youthful prince has left a 
name dear to the churches of Great Britain. 

His death did not interrupt the labours of the mission- 
aries. Their meekness and the recollection of Oswald en- 
deared them to all. As soon as the villagers caught sight 
of one on the high-road, they would throng round him, 
begging him to teach them the Word of life* The faith 
which the terrible Edelfrid thought he had washed away 
in the blood of the worshippers of God, was re-appearing in 
every direction ; and Rome, which once already in the days 
of Honorius had been forced to leave Britain, might be per- 
haps a second time compelled to flee to its ships from be- 
fore the face of a people who asserted their liberty. 



CHAPTER III. 

Character of Oswy Death of Aidan Wilfrid at Rome At Oswald's 
Court Finan and Colman Independence of the Church attacked 
Oswy's Conquests and Troubles Synodus Pharensis Cedda Dege- 
neration The Disputation Peter, the Gatekeeper Triumph of Rome 
Grief of the Britons Popedom organized in England Papal Exul- 
tationArchbishop Theodore Cedda re-ordained Discord in the 
Church Disgrace and Treachery of Wilfrid His End Scotland 
attacked Adamnan Tona resists A King converted by Architects 
The Monk Egbert at lona His History Monkish Visions Fall 
of lona. 

THEN uprose the papacy. If victory remained with the 
Britons, their church, becoming entirely free, might even in 
these early times head a strong opposition against the papal 
monarchy. If, on the contrary, the last champions of liberty 
are defeated, centuries of slavery awaited the Christian 
church. We shall have to witness the struggle that took 
place erelong in the very palace of the Northumbrian kings. 
Oswald was succeeded by his brother Oswy, a prince in- 
structed in the free doctrine of the Britons, but whose religion 

* Mox congregati in unum yicani, verbum vita ab illo expetere cura- 
bftnt. Beda, no. ill. cap. xxvi 



CHAEACTER OF O8WY. 43 

was all external. His heart overflowed with ambition, and 
he shrank from no crime that might increase his power. The 
throne of Deira was filled by his relative Oswin, an amiable 
king, much beloved by his people. Oswy, conceiving a 
deadly jealousy towards him, marched against him at the 
head of an army, and Oswin, desirous of avoiding bloodshed, 
took shelter with a chief whom he had loaded with favours. 
But the latter offered to lead Oswy's soldiers to his hiding- 
place ; and at dead of night the fugitive king was basely 
assassinated, one only of his servants fighting in his defence. 
The gentle Aidan died of sorrow at his cruel fate.* Such 
was the first exploit of that monarch who surrendered Eng- 
land to the papacy. Various circumstances tended to draw 
Oswy nearer Rome. He looked upon the Christian religion 
as a means of combining the Christian princes against the 
heathen Penda, and such a religion, in which expediency 
predominated, was not very unlike popery. And further, 
Oswy's wife, the proud Eanfeld, was of the Romish com- 
munion. The private Chaplain of this bigoted princess was 
a priest named Romanus, a man worthy of the name. He 
zealously maintained the rites of the Latin church, and ac- 
cordingly the festival of Easter was celebrated at court twice 
in the year ; for while the king, following the eastern rule, 
was joyfully commemorating the resurrection of our Lord, 
the queen, who adopted the Roman ritual, was keeping 
Palm Sunday with fasting and humiliation.-}- Eanfeld and 
Romanus would often converse together on the means of 
winning over Northumberland to the papacy. But the first 
stop was to increase the number of its partisans, and th 
opportunity soon occurred. 

A young Northumbrian, named Wilfrid, w.as one day ad 
initted to an audience of the queen. He was a comely mar 
of extensive knowledge, keen wit, and enterprising charactei 
of indefatigable activity, and insatiable ambition. J In thi- 

* Aydanus duodecimo post occisioncm regis quern amabat die, de seculi 
ablatus. Beda, lib. iii. cap. xiv. 

t Cum rex pascha dominicum solutis jcjuniis faceret, tune regina cum 
Buis persistens adhuc in jejunio diem Palmarum celebraret. Ibid. cap. xz* 

$ Acris erat ingenii gratia vennsti rultus, alacritate actionis. Beda, 

lib. T. p. 135. 



44 WILFRID AT ROME, 

interview he remarked to Eanfeld : " The way which the 
Scotch teach us is not perfect ; I will go to Rome and learn 
in the very temples of the apostles." She approved of his 
project, and with her assistance and directions he set out for 
Italv. Alas ! he was destined at no very distant day to 
chain the whole British church to the Roman see. After a 
short stay tit Lyons, where the bishop, delighted at his talents, 
would have desired to keep him, he arrived at Rome, and 
immediately became on the most friendly footing with Arch- 
deacon Boniface, the pope's favourite councillor. He soon 
discovered that the priests of France and Italy possessed 
more power both in ecclesiastical and secular matters than 
the humble missionaries of lona ; and his thirst for honours 
was inflamed at the court of the pontiffs. If he should suc- 
ceed in making England submit to the papacy, there was no 
dignity to which he might not aspire. Henceforward this 
was his only thought, and he had hardly returned to North- 
umberland before Eanfeld eagerly summoned him to court. 
A fanatical queen, from whom he might hope everything 
a king with no religious convictions, and enslaved by political 
interests a pious and zealous prince, Alfred, the king's son, 
who was desirous of imitating his noble uncle Oswald, and 
converting the pagans, but who had neither the discernment 
nor the piety of the illustrious disciple of lona : such were 
the materials Wilfrid had to work upon. He saw clearly 
that if Rome had gained her first victory by the sword of 
Edelfrid, she could only expect to gain a second by craft and 
management. He came to an understanding on the subject 
with the queen and Romanus, and having been placed about 
the person of the young prince, by adroit flattery he soon 
gained over Alfred's mind. Then finding himself secure of 
two members of the royal family, lie turned all his attention 
to Oswy. 

The elders of lona could not shut their eyes to the dan- 
gers which threatened Northumberland. They had sent 
Finan to supply Aidan's place, and this bishop, consecrated 
by the presbyters of lona, had witnessed the progress of 
popery at the court ; at first humble and inoffensive, and 
then increasing year by year in ambition and audacity. He 



AND AT OSWY'S COUKT. 45 

had openly opposed the pontiff's agents, and his frequent 
contests had confirmed him in the truth.* He was dead, 
and the presbyters of the Western Isles, seeing more clearly 
than ever the wants of Northumbria, had sent thither Bishop 
Colman, a simple-minded but stout-hearted man, one de- 
termined to oppose a front of adamant to the wiles of the 
seducers. 

Yet'Eanfeld, Wilfrid, and Romanus were skilfully dig- 
ging the mine that was to destroy the apostolic church of 
Britain. At first Wilfrid prepared his attack by adroit in- 
sinuations ; and next declared himself openly in the king's 
presence. If Oswy withdrew into his domestic circle, he 
there found the bigoted Eanfeld, who zealously continued 
the work of the Roman missionary. No opportunities were 
neglected : in the midst of the diversions of the court, at 
table, and even during the chase, discussions were perpet- 
ually raised on the controverted doctrines. Men's minds 
became excited : the Romanists already assumed the air of 
conquerors ; and the Britons often withdrew full of anxiety 
and fear. The king, placed between his wife .and his faith, 
and wearied by these disputes, inclined 'first to one side, and 
then to the other, as if he would soon fall altogether. 

The papacy had more powerful motives than ever for 
coveting Northumberland. Oswy had not only usurped the 
throne of Deira, but after the death of the cruel Penda, who 
fell in battle in 654, he had conquered his states with the 
exception of a portion governed by his son-in-law Peada, 
the son of Penda. But Peada himself having fallen in 
a conspiracy said to have been got up by his wife, the 
daughter of Oswy, the latter completed the conquest of 
Mercia, and thus united the greatest part of England under 
his sceptre. Kent alone at that time acknowledged the 
jurisdiction of Rome: in every other province, free ministers, 
protected by the kings of Northumberland, preached the 
gospel. This wonderfully simplified the question. If Rome 
gained over ^swy, she would gain England : if she failed, 
she must sooner or later leave that island altogether. 

* Apertum vcritatis adversarium reddidit, says the Romanist Bede, 
lib. r. p. 135. 



46 CONQUESTS AND TROUBLES OP OSWY. 

This was not all. The blood of Oswyn, the premature 
death of Aidan, and other things besides, troubled the king's 
breast. He desired to appease the Deity he had offended, 
and not knowing that Christ is the door, as Holy Scripture 
tells us, h,e sought among men for a doorkeeper who would 
open to him the kingdom of heaven. He was far from be- 
ing the last of those kings whom the necessity of expiat- 
ing their crimes impelled towards Romish practices. The 
crafty Wilfrid, keeping alive both the hopes and fears of the 
prince, often spoke to him of Rome, and of the grace to be 
found there. He thought that the fruit was ripe, and that 
now he had only to shake the tree. " "We must have a 
public disputation, in which the question may be settled 
once for all," said the queen and her advisers ; " but Rome 
must take her part in it with as much pomp as her adver- 
saries. Let us oppose bishop to bishop." A Saxon bishop 
named Agilbert, a friend of Wilfrid's, who had won the affec- 
tion of the young prince Alfred, was invited by Eanfeld to the 
conference, and he arrived in Northumberland attended by a 
priest named Agathon. Alas ! poor British church, the 
earthen vessel is about to be dashed against the vase of iron. 
Britain must yield before the invading march of Rome. 

On the coast of Yorkshire, at the farther extremity of a 
quiet bay, was situated the monastery of Strenseshalh, or 
Whitby, of which Hilda, the pious daughter of King Edwin, 
was abbess. She, too, was desirous of seeing a termination 
of the violent disputes which had agitated the church since 
Wilfrid's return. On the shores of the North Sea* the strug- 
gle was to be decided between Britain and Rome, between 
the East and the West, or, as they said then, between Saint 
John and Saint Peter. It was not a mere question about 
Easter, or certain rules of discipline, but of the great doc- 
trine of the freedom of the church under Jesus Christ, or its 
enslavement under the papacy. Rome, ever domineering, 
desired for the second time to hold England in its grasp, not 



* This conference is generally known as the Synodus Pharensis (from 
Strenceshalh, sinus Phari). " Hodie Whitbie dicitur (White cay), et 
ost villa ia Eboracensi littore satis nota." Wilkins, Concil. p. 37, note. 






SYNODUS PHAEENSIS CEDDA. 47 

by moans of the sword, but by her dogmas. With her usual 
cunning she concealed her enormous pretensions under se- 
condary questions, and many superficial thinkers were de- 
ceived by this manoeuvre. 

The meeting took place in the convent of Whitby. The 
king and his son entered first ; then, on the one side, Column, 
with the bishops and elders of the Britons ; and on the other 
Bishop Agilbert, Agathon, Wilfrid, Romanus, a deacon 
named James, and several other priests of the Latin confes- 
sion. Last of all came Hilda with her attendants, among 
whom was an English bishop named Cedda, one of the most 
active missionaries of the age.* He had at first preached 
the Gospel in the midland districts, whence he turned his 
footsteps towards the Anglo-Saxons of the East, and after 
converting a great number of these pagans, he had returned 
to Finan, and, although an Englishman, had received Epis- 
copal consecration from a bishop who had been himself 
ordained by the elders of lona. Then proceeding westwards, 
the indefatigable evangelist founded churches, and appointed 
elders and deacons wherever he went.-J- By birth an Eng- 
lishman, by ordination a Scotchman, everywhere treated with 
respect and consideration, he appeared to be set apart as me- 
diator in this solemn conference. His intervention could not 
however, retard the victory of Rome. Alas ! the primitive 
evangelism had gradually given way to an ecclesiasticism, 
coarse and rude in one place, subtle and insinuating in 
another. Whenever the priests were called upon to justify 
certain doctrines or ceremonies, instead of referring solely to 
the word of God, that fountain of all light, they maintained 
that thus St James did at Jerusalem, St Mark at Alexan- 
dria, St John at Ephesus, or St Peter at Rome. They gave 
the name of apostolical canons to rules which the apostles 
had never known. They even went further than this : at 
Rome and in the East, ecclesiasticism represented itself to be 

" Presby ten Cedda et Adda et Berti et Duina, quorum ultimus natione 
Scota, cacteri fuere Angli. Beda, lib. iii. cap. xxi. 

f Qui accepto gradu episcopatus et majore auctoritate coeptum opus 
explens, fecit per loca ecclesias, presbyteros et diaconos ordinavit. Beda, 
lib. iii. cap. sxii. 



48 THE DISPUTATION, 

a law of God, and from a state of weakness, it thus became 
a state of sin. Some marks of this error were already be- 
ginning to appear in the Christianity of the Britons. 

King Oswy was the first to speak : " As servants of one 
and the same God, we hope all to enjoy the same inheritance 
in heaven ; why then should we not have the same rule of 
life here below ? Let us inquire which is the true one, and 

folloAV it." " Those who sent me hither as bishop," said 

Colman, " and who gave me the rule which I observe, are 
the beloved of God. Let us bewaro how we despise their 
teaching, for it is the teaching of Columba, of the blessed 
evangelist John,* and of the churches over which that apostle 
presided." 

" As for us," boldly rejoined Wilfrid, for to. him as to the 
most skilful had bishop Agilbert intrusted the defence of 
their cause, " our custom is that of Rome, where the holy 
apostles Peter and Paul taught ; we found it in Italy and 
Gaul, nay, it is spread over every nation. Shall the Picts 
and Britons, cast on these two islands, on the very confines 
of the ocean, dare to contend against the whole world ? 7 
However holy your Columba may have been, will you prefer 
him to the prince of the apostles, to whom Christ said, Thou 
art Peter, and I will give unto thee the keys of tJie kingdom of 
heaven ? " 

Wilfrid spoke with animation, and his words being skil- 
fully adapted to his audience, began to make them waver. 
He had artfully substituted Columba for the apostle John, 
from whom the British church claimed descent, and op- 
posed to St Peter a plain elder of lona. Oswy, whose idol 
was power, could not hesitate between paltry bishops and 
that pope of Rome who commanded the whole world. Al- 
ready imagining he saw Peter at the gates of paradise, with 
the keys in his hand, he exclaimed with emotion: "Is it 
true, Colman, that these words were addressed by our Lord 
to Saint Peter?" " It is true." " Can you prove that simi- 

* Ipsum est quod beatus evangelista Johannes, discipulus specialito? 
Domino dilectus. Bcda, lib. iii. cap. xxv. 

t Pictos dico ac Brittones, cum quibus de duabus ultimis oceani insulis 
contra totum orbem stulto laborc pugnant. Ibid. 



TRIUMPH OF ROME. -19 

lar powers were given to your Coluraba?" The bishop re- 
plied, " We cannot ;" but he might have told the king : 
" John, whose doctrine we follow, and indeed every disciple, 
has received in the same sense as St Peter the power to re- 
mit sins, to bind and to loose on earth and in heaven."* But 
the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures was fading away in 
lona, and the unsuspecting Colman had not observed Wil- 
frid's stratagem in substituting Columba for Saint John. 
Upon this Oswy, delighted to yield to the continual solicita- 
tions of the queen, and, above all, to find some one who 
would admit him into the kingdom of heaven, exclaimed, 
" Peter is the doorkeeper, I will obey him, lest when I ap- 
pear at the gate there should be no one to open it to me."-^ 
The spectators, carried away by this royal confession, has- 
tened to give in their submission to the vicar of St Peter. 

Thus did Rome triumph at the Whitby conference. Oswy 
forgot that the Lord had said : / am he that openeth, and no 
man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth.% It was 
by ascribing to Peter the servant, what belongs to Jesus 
Christ the master, that the papacy reduced Britain. Oswy 
stretched out his hands, Rome riveted the chains, and the 
liberty which Oswald had given his church seemed at the 
last gasp. 

Colman saw with grief and consternation Oswy .and his 
subjecfs bending their knees before the foreign priests. He 
did not, however, despair of the ultimate triumph of the 
truth. The apostolic faith could still find shelter in the old 
sanctuaries of the British church in Scotland and Ireland. 
Immovable in the doctrine he had received, and resolute to 
uphold Christian liberty, Colman withdrew with those who 
would not bend beneath the -yoke of Rome, and returned to 
Scotland. Thirty Anglo-Saxons, and a great number of 
Britons, shook off the dust of their feet against the tents of 
the Romish priests. The hatred of popery became more in- 
tense day by day among the remainder of the Britons. De- 

John xx. 23 ; Matth. XYiii. 18. 

t Ne forte mo adveniento ad fores regni ocelorum, non sit qui reaerct. 
Dcda, lib. iii. cap. xxv. 
J John x. 9 ; Rev. iii. 7. 

3* C 



50 SORROW OF THE BRITONS. 

termined to repel its erroneous dogmas and its illegitimate 
dominion, they maintained their communion with the Eastern 
Church, which was more ancient than that of Rome. They 
shuddered as they saw the red dragon of the Celts gradually 
retiring towards the western sea from before the white dragofl 
of the Saxons. They ascribed their misfortunes to a horrible 
conspiracy planned by the iniquitous ambition of the foreign 
monks, and the bards in their chants cursed the negligent 
ministers who defended not the flock of the Lord against the 
wolves of Rome.* But vain were their lamentations ! 

The Romish priests, aided by the queen, lost no time. 
Wilfrid, whom Oswy desired to reward for his triumph, was 
named bishop of Northumberland, and he immediately 
visited Paris to receive episcopal consecration in due form. 
He soon returned, and proceeded with singular activity to 
establish the Romish doctrine in all the churches.f Bishop 
of a diocese extending from Edinburgh to Northampton, en- 
riched with the goods which had belonged to divers monas- 
teries, surrounded by a numerous train, served upon gold 
and silver plate, Wilfrid congratulated himself on having 
espoused the cause of the papacy ; he offended every one who 
approached him by his insolence, and taught England how 
wide was the difference between the humble ministers of 
lona and a Romish priest. At the same time Oswv^ com- 
ing to an understanding with the king of Kent, sent another 
priest named Wighard to Rome to learn the pope's inten- 
tions respecting the church in England, and to receive con- 
secration as archbishop of Canterbury. There was no epis- 
copal ordination in England worthy of a priest ! In the 
meanwhile Oswy, with all the zeal of a new convert, ceased 
not to repeat that " the Roman Church was the catholic 
and apostolic church," and thought night and day on the 
means of converting his subjects, hoping thus (says a pope) 
to redeem his own soul4 

The arrival of this news at Rome created a great sensa- 

* Horse Britannicse, b. ii. p. 277. 

t Ipse perplura catholicse observations moderamina ecclesiis Anglo- 
rum sua doctrina contulit. Beda, lib. iii. cap. xxviii. 

J Omnes subjectos suos meditatur die ac nocte ad fidem catholicam 
atquo apostolicam pro SUES anima) redemptione coiiyerti. Ibid. cap. xxix, 



EXULTATION OF THE POPE. ' 51 

lion. Vitalian, who then filled the episcopal chair, and was as 
insolent to his bishops as he was fawning and servile to the 
emperor, exclaimed with transport: "Who would not be 
overjoyed!* a king converted to the true apostolic faith, a 
people that believes at last in Christ the Almighty God!" 
For many long years this people had believed in Christ, but 
they were now beginning to believe in the pope, and the 
pope will soon make them forget Jesus the Saviour. Vita- 
lian wrote to Oswy, and sent him not copies of the Holy 
Scriptures (which were already becoming scarce at Rome), 
but relics of the Saints Peter, John, Lawrence, Gregory, 
and Pancratius ; and being in an especial manner desirous 
of rewarding Queen Eanfeld, to whom with Wilfrid belonged 
the glory of this work, he offered her a cross, made, as he 
assured Tier, out of the chains of St Peter and St Paul.-f- 
" Delay not," said the pope in conclusion, " to reduce all 
your island under Jesus Christ," or in other words, under 
the bishop of Rome. 

The essential thing, however, was to send an archbishop 
from Rome to Britain ; but Wighard was dead, and no one 
seemed willing to undertake so long a journey.:}: 

There was not much zeal in the city of the pontiffs : and 
the pope was compelled to look out for a stranger. There 
happened at that time to be in Rome a man of great reputa- 
tion for learning, who had come from the east, and adopted 
the rites and doctrines of the Latins in exchange for the 
knowledge he had brought them. He was pointed out to 
Vitalian as well qualified to be the metropolitan of England. 
Theodore, for such was his name, belonging by birth to the 
churches of Asia Minor, would be listened to by the Britons 
in preference to any other, when he solicited them to aban- 
don their oriental customs. The Roman pontiff, however, 
fearful perhaps that he might yet entertain some leaven of 
his former Greek doctrines, gave him as companion, or rather 
as overseer, a zealous African monk named Adrian. 

* Quis enim audiens hsec suavia non Iretetur 1 Beda, lib. iii. cap. zzix. 

t Conjugi, no-trie spiritual! flliae, crucem Ibid. 

Minime voluimus nunc reperire pro longinquitate itinoris. Ibid. 
Ut diligenter attenderet, nc quid ille contrarium veritati, fidei. Gras- 
corum more, in ecclesiam cui praessetintroduceret. Ibid. lib. IT. cap. i. 



52 CEDDA KE-ORDAINED. 

Theodore began the great crusade against British Chris- 
tianity ; and, endeavouring to show the sincerity of his con- 
version by his zeal, he traversed all England in company 
with Adrian,* everywhere imposing on the people that eccle- 
siastical supremacy to which Rome is indebted for her poli- 
tical supremacy. The superiority of character which distin- 
guished Saint Peter, Theodore transformed into a superiority 
of office. For the jurisdiction of Christ and his word, he 
substituted that of the bishop of Rome and of his decrees. 
He insisted on the necessity of ordination by bishops who, 
in an unbroken chain, could trace back their authority to 
the apostles themselves. The British still maintained the 
validity of their consecration ; but the number was small of 
those who understood that pretended successors of the apos- 
tles, who sometimes carry Satan in their hearts," are not 
true ministers of Christ ; that the one thing needful for the 
church is, that the apostles themselves (and not their suc- 
cessors only) should dwell in its bosom by their word, by 
their teaching, and by the Divine Comforter who shall be 
with it for ever and ever. 

The grand defection now began : the best were sometimes 
the first to yield. When Theodore met Cedda, who had 
been consecrated by a bishop who had himself received ordi- 
nation from the elders of lona, he said to him : " You have 
not been regularly ordained." Cedda, instead of standing up 
boldly for the truth, gave way to a carnal modesty, and re- 
plied : " I never thought myself worthy of the episcopate, 
and am ready to lay it down." " No," said Theodore, " you 
shall remain a bishop, but I will consecrate you anew ac- 
cording to the catholic ritual."-]- The British minister sub- 
mitted. Rome, triumphant, felt herself strong enough to 
deny the imposition of hands of the elders of lona, which 
she had hitherto recognised. The most steadfast believers 
took refuge in Scotland. 

* Peragrata insula tota, rectum vivendi ordinem disscminabat. Beda, 
lib. iv. cap. ii. 

+ Cum Ceadda Episcopum argueret non fuisse rite consecratum, ipse 
(Theodorus) ordinatiouem ejus denuo catholica ratione consummavit. 
Ibid. 



DISCORD IN THE CHURCH. 53 

In this manner a church in some respects deficient, but 
still a church in which the religious element held the .fore- 
most place, was succeeded by another in which the clerical 
element predominated. This was soon apparent : questions 
of authority and precedence, hitherto unknown among the 
British Christians, were now of daily occurrence. Wilfrid, 
who had fixed his residence at York, thought that no one 
deserved better than he to be primate of all England ; and 
Theodore on his part Avas irritated at the haughty tone as- 
sumed by this bishop. During the life of Oswy, peace was 
maintained, for Wilfrid was his favourite ; but erelong that 
prince fell ill ; and, terrified by the near approach of death, 
he vowed that if he recovered he would make a pilgrimage 
to Rome and there end his days.* " If you will be my guide 
to the city of the apostles," he said to Wilfrid, " I will give 
you a large sum of money." But his vow was of no avail ; 
Oswy died in the spring of the year 670 A. D. 

The Wit&n set aside prince Alfred, and raised his youngest 
brother Egfrid to the throne. The new monarch, who had 
often been offended by Wilfrid's insolence, denounced this 
haughty prelate to the archbishop. Nothing could be more 
agreeable to Theodore. He assembled a council at Hert- 
ford, before which the chief of his converts were first sum- 
moned, and presenting to them, not the holy scripture but 
the canons of the Romish church,j he received their solemn 
oaths : such was the religion then taught in England. But 
this was not all. " The diocese of our brother Wilfrid is so 
extensive," said the primate, " that there is room in it for 
four bishops." They were appointed accordingly. Wilfrid 
indignantly appealed from the primate and the king to the 

pope. "Who converted England, who, if not I? and 

it is thus I am rewarded!" Not allowing himself to 

be checked by the difficulties of the journey, he set out for 
Rome attended by a few monks, and Pope Agathon assem- 
bling a council (679), the Englishman presented his com- 
plaint, and the pontiff declared the destitution to be illegal. 

* Ut si ab infirmitate salraretur, etiam Romam venire, ibique ad Iocs 
sancta vitam finire. Bcda, lib. iv. cap. ii. 
t Quibus statim protnli eundem Hbrum canomim. Ibid. cap. T. 



54 WILFRID'S DISGRACE AND TREACHERY. 

Wilfrid immediately returned to England, and haughtily 
presented the pope's decree to the king. But Egfrid, who 
was not of a disposition to tolerate these transalpine man- 
ners, far from restoring the see, cast the prelate into prison, 
and did not release him until the end of the year, and then 
only on condition that he would immediately quit North- 
umbria. 

Wilfrid for we must follow even to the end of his life 
that remarkable man, who exercised so great an influence 
over the destinies of the English church Wilfrid was de- 
termined to be a bishop at any cost. The kingdom of 
Sussex was still pagan ; and the deposed prelate, whose in- 
defatigable activity we cannot but acknowledge, formed the 
resolution of winning a bishopric, as other men plan the 
conquest of a kingdom. He arrived in Sussex during a 
period of famine, and having brought with him a number of 
nets, he taught the people the art of fishing, and thus gained 
their affections. Their king Edilwalch had been baptized ; 
his subjects now followed his example, and Wilfrid was 
placed at the head of the church. But he soon manifested 
the disposition by which he was animated : he furnished 
supplies of men and money to Geadwalla, king of Wessex, 
and this cruel chieftain made a fierce inroad into Sussex, 
laying it waste, and putting to death Edilwalch, the pre- 
late's benefactor. The -career of the turbulent bishop was 
not ended. King Egfrid died, and was succeeded by his 
brother Alfred, whom Wilfrid had brought up, a prince fond 
of learning and religion, and emulous of the glory of his 
uncle Oswald. The ambitious Wilfrid hastened to claim his 
see of York, by acquiescing in the partition ; it was restored 
to him, and he forthwith began to plunder others to enrich 
himself. A council begged him to submit to the decrees of 
the church of England ; he refused, and having lost the 
esteem of the king, his former pupil, he undertook, notwith- 
standing his advanced years, a third journey to Rome. 
Knowing how popes are won, he threw himself at the 
pontiffs feet, exclaiming that " the suppliant bishop Wilfrid, 
the humble slave of the servant of God, implored the favour 
of our most blessed lord, the pope universal." The bishop 



HIS END SCOTLAND ATTACKED ADAMNAN. 55 

could not restore his creature to his see, and the short re- 
mainder of Wilfrid's life was spent in the midst of the richea 
his cupidity had so unworthily accumulated. 

Yet he had accomplished the task of his life : all England 
was subservient to the papacy. The names of Oswy and of 
Wilfrid should be inscribed in letters of mourning in the 
annals of Great Britain. Posterity has erred in permitting 
them to sink into oblivion ; for they were two of the most 
influential and energetic men that ever flourished in Eng- 
land. Still this very forgetfulness is not wanting in gene- 
rosity. The grave in which the liberty of the church lay 
buried for nine centuries is the only monument a mourn- 
ful one indeed that should perpetuate their memory. 

But Scotland was still free, and to secure the definitive 
triumph of Rome, it was necessary to invade that virgin soil, 
over which the standard of the faith had floated for so many 
years. 

Adamnan was then at the head of the church of lona, the 
first elder of that religious house. He was virtuous and 
learned, but weak and somewhat vain, and his religion had 
little spirituality. To gain him was in the eyes of Rome to 
gain Scotland. A singular circumstance favoured the plans 
of those who desired to draw him into the papal communion. 
One day during a violent tempest, a ship coming from the 
Holy Land, and on board of which was a Gaulish bishop 
named Arculf, was wrecked in the neighbourhood of lona.* 
Arculf eagerly sought an asylum among the pious inhabit- 
ants of that island. Adamnan never grew tired of hearing 
the stranger's descriptions of Bethlehem, Jerusalem, and 
Golgotha, of the sun-burnt plains over which our Lord had 
wandered, and the cleft stone which still lay before the door 
of the sepulchre.-}- The elder of lona, who prided himself 
on his learning, noted down Arculfs conversation, and from 
it composed a description of the Holy Land. As soon as his 
book was completed, the desire of making these wondrous 

Vi tempestatis in occidentalia Britannia; littora delatus est. Beda, 
lib. v. cap. xvi. 

f Lapis qui ad ostium monumenti positus erat, fiesus cst. Ibid, cap 
rvii. 



56 EESISTANCE OF IONA. 

things more widely known, combined with a little va> Jty, 
and perhaps othet motives, urged him to visit the court of 
Northumberland, where he presented his work to the pious 
King Alfred,* who, being fond of learning and of the Chri<?~ 
tian traditions, caused a number of copies of it to be made. 

Nor was this all : the Romish clergy perceived the advan- 
tage they might derive from this imprudent journey. They 
crowded round the elder ; they showed him all the pomp of 
their worship, and said to him : " Will you and your friends, 
who live at the very extremity of the world, set yourselves 
in opposition to the observances of the universal church ?"{ 
The nobles of the court flattered the author's self-love, and 
invited him to their festivities, while the king loaded him 
with presents. The free presbyter of Britain became a priest 
of Rome, and Adamnan returned to lona to betray his 
church to his new masters. But it was all to no purpose : 
lona would not give way.f He then went to hide his shame 
in Ireland, where, having brought a few individuals to the- 
Romish uniformity, he took courage and revisited Scotland. 
But that country, still inflexible, repelled him with indigna- 
tion^ 

When Rome found herself unable to conquer by the priest, 
she had recourse to the prince, and her eyes were turned to 
Naitam, king of the Picts. " How much more glorious it 
would be for you," urged the Latin priests, " to belong to the 
powerful church of the universal pontiff of Rome, than to a 
congregation superintended by miserable elders ! The Ro- 
mish church is a monarchy, and ought to be the church of 
every monarch. The Roman ceremonial accords with the 
pomp of royalty, and its temples are palaces." The prince 
was convinced by the last argument. He despatched mes- 
sengers to Ceolfrid, the abbot of an English convent, begging 

* Porrexit autem librum tune Adamnanus Alfrido regi. Beda, lib. 
v. cap. xvi. 

j- Ne contra universalem ecclesise morem, cum suis paucissimis et in 
extreme mundi angulo positis, vivere praesumeret. Ibid. 

J Curavit sues ad eum veritatis calcem producere, nee voluit. Ibid. 

Nee tamen perficere quod conabatur posset. Ibid. The conversions 
of which Abbot Ceolfrid speaks in chap. xxii. are probably those effected 
in Ireland, the word Scotia being at this period frequently applied to that 
country. 



NAITAM CONVERTED TO ROMANISM. 57 

him to send him architects capable of building a church after 
the Roman pattern* of stone and^iot of wood. Architects, 
majestic porches, lofty columns, vaulted roofs, gilded altars, 
have often proved the most influential of Rome's mission- 
aries. The builder's art. though in its earliest and simplest 
day?, was more powerful than the Bible. Naitam, who, by 
submitting to the pope, thought himself the equal of Clovis 
and Clotaire, assembled the nobles of his court and the pas- 
tors of his church, and thus addressed them : " I recommend 
all the clergy of my kingdom to receive the tonsure of Saint 
Peter." f Then without delay (as Bede informs us) this 
important revolution was accomplished by royal authority, f 
He sent agents and letters into every province, and caused 
all the ministers and monks to receive the circular tonsure 
according to the Roman fashion. It was the mark that 
popery stamped, not on the forehead, but on the crown. A 
royal proclamation and a few clips of the scissors placed the 
Scotch, like a flock of sheep, beneath the crook of the shep- 
herd of the Tiber. 

lona still held out. The orders of the Pictish king, 
the example of his subjects, the sight of that Italian power 
which was devouring the earth, had shaken some few minds ; 
but the church still resisted the innovation. lona was the 
last citadel of liberty in the western world, and popery was 
filled with anger at that miserable band which in its remote 
corner refused to bend before it. Human means appeared 
insufficient to conquer this rock : something more was needed, 
visions and miracles for example; and these Rome always 
finds when she wants them. One day towards the end of 
the seventh century, an English monk, named Egbert, 
arriving from Ireland, appeared before the elders of lona, who 
received him with their accustomed hospitality. He was a 
man in whom enthusiastic devotion was combined with great 

* Architectos sibi mitti pctiit qui juxta morcm Romanorum ecclesiam 
laccrent. Beda, lib. v. cap. xxii. 

f Et bane accipere tonsuram, omnes qui in meo regno sunt clericos 
decerno. Ibid. 

J Nee mora, qua) dixerat regia auctoritate perfecit. Ibid. 

Per universas Pictorum provinciaa tondebantur omnes in coronam 

ounistri altaris ac monacal. Ibid. 

c 2 



58 EGBERT THE MONK AT IONA. 

gentleness of heart, and he soon won upon the minds of these 
simple believers. He snpke to them of an external unity, 
urging that a universality manifested under different forms 
was unsuited to the church of Christ. He advocated the 
special form of Rome, and for the truly catholic element 
which the Christians of lona had thus far possessed, sub- 
stituted a sectarian element. He attacked the traditions of 
the British church,* and lavishly distributing the rich pre- 
sents confided to him by the lords of Ireland and of England,f 
he soon had reason to acknowledge the truth of the saying 
of the wise man : A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of 
him that hath it : whithersoever it turneth it prospereth. 

Some pious souls, however, still Tield out in lona. The 
enthusiast Egbert for such he appears to have been rather 
than an impostor had recourse to other means. He repre- 
sented himself to be a messenger from heaven : the saints 
themselves, said he, have commissioned me to convert lona ; 
and then he told the following history to the elders who 
stood round him. " About thirty years ago, I entered the 
monastery of Rathmelfig in Ireland, when a terrible pesti- 
lence fell upon it, and of all the brethren the monk Edelhun 
and myself were left alone. Attacked by the plague, and 
fearing my last hour was come, I rose from my bed and 
crept into the chapel.J There my whole body trembled at 
the recollection of my sins, and my face was bathed with 
tears. ' God,' I exclaimed, ' suffer me not to die until I 
have redeemed my debt to thee by an abundance of good 
works." I returned staggering to the infirmary, got into 
bed, and fell asleep. When I awoke, I saw Edelhun with 
his eyes fixed on mine. ' Brother Egbert,' said he, ' it has 
been revealed to me in a vision that thou shalt receive what 

* Sedulis cxhortationibus inyeteratam illam traditionem parentum 
eorum. Beda, lib. v. cap. xxiii. 

f Pietate largiendi de his quse a divitibus acceperat, multum profuit. 
Ibid. cap. xxvii. 

J Cum sc existimaret esse moriturum, egressus est tempore matutino 
de cubiculo, et residens solus Ibid. lib. iii. cap. xxvii. 

Precabatur ne adhuc mori deberet priusquam vel prseteritas negli- 
gentias aperfectim ex tempore castigaret, vel in bonis se operibus abundan- 
tius exerceret. Ibid. 



MONKISH VISIONS. 59 

thou hast asked.' On the following night Edelhun died and 
I recovered. 

" Many years passed away : my repentance and my vigils 
did lot satisfy me, and wishing to pay my debt, I resolved 
to go with a company of monks and preach the blessings of 
the gospel to the heathens of Germany. But during the 
night a blessed saint from heaven appeared to one of the 
brethren and said : ' Tell Egbert that he must go to the 
monasteries of Columba, for their ploughs do not plough 
straight, and he must put them into the right furrow.'* I 
forbade this brother to speak of his vision, and went on 
board a ship bound for Germany. We were waiting for a 
favourable wind, when, of a sudden, in the middle of the 
night, a frightful tempest burst upon the vessel, and drove us 
on the shoals. ' For my sake this tempest is upon us/ I 
exclaimed in terror ; ' God speaks to me as He did to 
Jonah ;' and I ran to take refuge in my cell. At last I de- 
termined to obey the command which the holy man had 
brought me. I left Ireland, and came among you, in order 
to pay my debt by converting you. And now," continued 
Egbert, " make answer to the voice of heaven, and submit to 
Rome." 

A ship thrown on shore by a storm was a frequent occur- 
rence on those coasts, and the dream of a monk, absorbed in 
the plans of his brother, was nothing very unnatural. But 
in those times of darkness, everything appeared miraculous ; 
phantoms and apparitions had more weight than the word of 
God. Instead of detecting the emptiness of these visions by 
the falseness of the religion they were brought to support, 
the elders of lona listened seriously to Egbert's narrative. 
The primitive faith planted on the rock of Icolmkill was now 
like a pine-tree tossed by the winds : but one gust, and it 
would be uprooted and blown into the sea. Egbert, per- 
ceiving the elders to be shaken, redoubled his prayers, and 
even had recourse to threats. "AH the west," said he, 
" bends the knee to Rome : alone against all, what can you 
do?" The Scotch still resisted: obscure and unknown, the 

* Qnia aratra eorum non recto incedunt ; oportet autem cum ad no- 
turn luce tramitem rovocare. Bcda, lib. iii. cap. xxvii. 



60 FALL OF IOXA. 

last British Christians contended in behalf of expiring liberty. 
At length bewildered they stumbled and fell. The scissors 
were brought ; they received the Latin tonsure* they were 
the pope's. f 

Thus fell Scotland. Yet there still remained some sparks 
of grace, and the mountains of Caledonia long concealed the 
hidden fire which after many ages burst forth with such 
power and might. Here and there a few independent spirits 
were to be found who testified against the tyranny of Rome. 
In the time of Bede they might be seen " halting in their 
paths," (to use the words of the Romish historian,) refusing 
to join in the holidays of the pontifical adherents, and push- 
ing away the hands that were eager to shave their crowns.-J- 
But the leaders of the state and of the church had laid down 
their arms. The contest was over, after lasting more than 
a century. British Christianity had in some degree prepared 
its own fall, by substituting too often the form for the faith. 
The foreign superstition took advantage of this weakness, 
and triumphed in these islands by means of royal decrees, 
church ornaments, monkish phantoms, and conventual ap- 
paritions. At the beginning of the eighth century the Bri- 
tish Church became the serf of Rome; but an internal 
struggle was commencing, which did not cease until the 
period of the Reformation. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Clement Struggle between a Scotchman and an Englishman Word of 
God only Clement's Success His Condemnation Virgil and the 
Antipodes John Scotus and Philosophical Religion Alfred and the 
Bible Darkness and Popery William the Conqueror Wulston at 
Edward's Tomb -^Struggle between William and Hildebrand The Pope 
y ields Csesaropapia. 

THE independent Christians of Scotland, who subordinated 
the authority of man to that of God, were filled with sorrow 

* Ad ritum tonsurse canonicum sub figura coronse perpetuae. Beda, 
lib. v. cap. xxiii. 

f- Sicut e contra Brittones, inveterati et claudicantes a semitis suis, et 
oapita ferre sine corona prsetendunt. Ibid. 



C&EMENT AND BOXIFACE. 61 

as they beheld these backslidings : and it was this no doubt 
which induced many to leave their homes and fight in the 
very heart of Europe in behalf of that Christian liberty which 
had just expired among themselves. 

At the commencement of the eighth century a great idea 
took possession of a pious doctor of the Scottish church 
named Clement.* The ivork of God is the very essence of 
Christianity, thought he, and this work must be defended 
against all the encroachments of man. To human tradition- 
alism he opposed the sole authority of the word of God ; to 
clerical materialism, a church which is the assembly of the 
saints ; and to Pelagianisra, the sovereignty of grace. He 
was a man of decided character and firm faith, but without 
fanaticism ; his heart was open to the holiest emotions of 
our nature; he was a husband and a father. He quitted 
Scotland and travelled among the Franks, everywhere scat- 
tering the seeds of the faith. It happened unfortunately 
that a man of kindred energy, Winifrid or Boniface of Wes- 
sex, was planting the pontifical Christianity in the same 
regions. This great missionary, who possessed in an essen- 
tial degree the faculty of organization, aimed at external 
unity above all things, and when he had taken the oath of 
fidelity to Gregory II., he had received from that pope a col- 
lection of the Roman laws. Boniface, henceforth a docile 
disciple or rather a fanatical champion of Rome, supported 
on the one hand by the pontiff, and on the other by Charley 
Martel, ha preached to the people of Germany, among some 
undoubted Christian truths, the doctrine of tithes and of 
papal supremacy. The Englishman and the Scotchman, 
representatives of two great systems, were about to engage 
in deadly combat in the heart of Europe in a combat whose 
consequences might be incalculable. 

Alarmed at the progress made by Clement's evangelical 
doctrines, Boniface, archbishop of the German churches, un- 
dertook to oppose them. At first he confronted the Scotch- 
man with the laws of the Roman church ; but the latter de- 
nied the authority of these ecclesiastical canons, and refuted 

* Alter qui dicitur Clemens, genere Scotus est. Bonifacii epistola ad 
Papara, Labbei concilia ad ann. 745. 



62 THE WORD OF GOD ALONE CLEMENT'S SUCCESS. 

their contents.* Boniface then put forward the decisions of 
various councils ; but Clement replied that if the decisions of 
the councils are contrary to holy Scripture, they have no 
authority over Christians, f The archbishop, astonished at 
such audacity, next had recourse to the writings of the most 
illustrious fathers of the Latin church, quoting Jerome, 
Augustine, and Gregory ; but the Scotchman told him, that 
instead of submitting to the word of men, he would obey the 
word of God alone. ^ Boniface with indignation now intro- 
duced the Catholic church, which, by its priests and bishops 
all united to the pope, forms an invincible unity ; but to his 
great surprise his opponent maintained that there only, 
where the Holy Spirit dwells, can be found the spouse of 
Jesus Christ. Vainly did the archbishop express his hor- 
ror ; Clement was not to be turned aside from his great idea, 
either by the clamours of the followers of Rome, or by the 
imprudent attacks made on the papacy by other Christian 
ministers. 

Rome had, indeed, other adversaries. A Gallic bishop 
named Adalbert, with whom Boniface affected to associate 
Clement, one day saw the archbishop complacently exhibit- 
ing to the people some relics of St Peter which he had 
brought from Rome; and being desirous of showing the 
ridiculous character of these Romish practices, he distributed 
among the bystanders his own hair and nails, praying them 
p pay these the same honours as Boniface claimed for the 
relics of the papacy. Clement smiled, like many others, at 
Adalbert's singular argument; but it was not with such 
arms that he was wont to fight. Gifted with profound dis- 
cernment, he had remarked that the authority of man sub- 
stituted for the authority of God was the source of all the 
errors of Romanism. At the same time he maintained on 
predestination what the archbishop called " horrible doctrines, 

* Canones ecclesiarum Christi abnegat et refutat. Bonifacii cpistola 
ad Papam, Labbei concilia ad ann. 745. 

f Synodalia jura sperncns. Ibid. 

J Tractatus et scrmoncs sanctorum patrum, Hieronymi, Augustiui, 
Gregorii recusat. Ibid. 

Clemens contra catholicam contendit ecclesiam. Ibid. 



CLEMENT CONDEMNED. 63 

contrary to the Catholic faith."* Clement's character inclines 
us to believe that he was favourable to the doctrine of pre- 
destination. A century later the pious Gottschalk was per- 
secuted by one of Boniface's successors for holding this very 
doctrine of Augustine's. Thus then did a Scotchman, the 
representative of the ancient faith of his country, withstand 
almost unaided in the centre of Europe the invasion of the 
Romans. But he was not long alone : the great especially, 
more enlightened than the common people, thronged around 
him. If Clement had succeeded, a Christian church would 
have been founded on the continent independent of the 
papacy. 

Boniface was confounded. He wished to do in central 
Europe what his fellow-countryman Wilfrid had done in 
England ; and at the very moment he fancied he was ad- 
vancing from triumph to triumph, victory escaped from his 
hands, he turned against this new enemy, and applying to 
Charles MartePs sons, Pepin and Carloman, he obtained 
their consent to. the assembling of a council before which he 
summoned Clement to appear. 

The bishops, counts, and other notabilities having met at 
Soissons on the 2d March 744, Boniface accused the Scotch- 
man of despising the laws of Rome, the councils, and the 
fathers ; attacked his marriage, which he called an adulter- 
ous union, and called in question some secondary points of 
doctrine. Clement was accordingly excommunicated by 
Boniface, at once his adversary, accuser, and judge, and 
thrown into prison, with the approbation of the pope and 
the king of the Franks.-}- 

The Scotchman's cause was everywhere taken up ; accu- 
sations were brought against the German primate, his per- 
secuting spirit was severely condemned, and his exertions 
for the triumph of the papacy were resisted. | Carloman 
yielded to this unanimous movement. The prison doors 

* Multa alia horribilia do prredestinatione Dei, contraria fidei catholics) 
iffirmat. Bonifacii epistola ad Papam, Labbci concilia ad aim. 7 1 ">. 

t Sacerdotio privans, reduci facit in custodiam. Concilium Romannm. 
Ibid. 

Propter istas cnim, persecutiones et inimicitias et maledictioncs 
multorum populorum patior. Ibid. 



64 VIRGIL AKD THE ANTIPODES. 

were opened, and Clement had hardly crossed the threshold 
before he began to protest boldly against human authority 
in matters of faith : the word of God is the only rule. Upon 
this Boniface applied to Rome for the heretic's condemna- 
tion, and accompanied his request by a silver cup and a 
garment of delicate texture.* The pope decided in synod 
that if Clement did not retract his errors, he should be de- 
livered up to everlasting damnation, and then requested 
Boniface to send him to Rome under a sure guard. We 
here lose all traces of the Scotchman, but it is easy to con- 
jecture what must have been his fate. 

Clement was not the only Briton who became distinguished 
in this contest. Two fellow-countrymen, Sampson and 
Virgil, who preached in central Europe, were in like manner 
persecuted by the Church of Rome. Virgil, anticipating 
Galileo, dared maintain that there were other men and ano- 
ther world beneath our feet.-j- He was denounced by Boni- 
face for this heresy, and condemned by the pope, as were 
other Britons for the apostolical simplicity of their lives. In 
813, certain Scotchmen who called themselves bishops, says 
a canon, having appeared before a council of the Roman 
church at Chalons, were rejected by the French prelates, 
because, like St Paul, they ivorTced with their own hands. 
Those enlightened and faithful men were superior to their 
time : Boniface and his ecclesiastical materialism were bet- 
ter fitted for an age in which clerical forms were regarded 
as the substance of religion. 

Even Great Britain, although its light was not so pure, 
was not altogether plunged in darkness. The Anglo-Saxons 
imprinted on their church certain characteristics which dis- 
tinguished it from that of Rome ; several books of the Bible 
were translated into their tongue, and daring spirits on the 
one hand, with some pious souls on the other, laboured in a 
direction hostile to popery. 

At first we see the dawning of that philosophic rational- 

* Poculum argenteum et sindonem unam. Gemuli Ep. Bonifacii epis- 
tola ad Papam, Labbei concilia ad ann. 745. 

.f Perversa doctrina quod alius mundus et alii homines sub terra 

eiut. Zacharise papae Ep. ad Bouif. Labbei concilia, vi. p. 152. 



DUNS SCOTUS. 65 

ism, which gives out a certain degree of brightness, but 
which can neither conquer error nor still less establish truth. 
In the ninth century there was a learned scholar in Ireland, 
who afterwards settled at the court of Charles the Bald. He 
was a strange mysterious man, of profound thought, and as 
much raised above the doctors of his age by the boldness 
of his ideas, as Charlemagne above the princes of his day by 
the force of his will. John Scot Erigena that is, a native 
of Ireland and not of Ayr, as some have supposed was a 
meteor in the theological heavens. "With a great philoso- 
phic genius he combined a cheerful jesting disposition. One 
day, while seated at table opposite to Charles the Bald, the 
latter archly inquired of him : " What is the distance be- 
tween a Scot and a sot ?" " The width of the table," was 
his ready answer, which drew a smile from the king. While 
the doctrine of Bede, Boniface, and even Alcuin was tradi- 
tional, servile, and, in one word, Romanist, that of Scot was 
mystical, philosophic, free, and daring. He sought for the 
truth not in the word or in the Church, but in himself: 
" The knowledge of ourselves is the true source of religious 
wisdom. Every creature is a theophany a manifestation 
of God ; since revelation presupposes the existence of truth, 
it is this truth, which is above revelation, with which man 
must set himself in immediate relation, leaving him at liberty 
to show afterwards its harmony with scripture, and the other 
theophanies. We must first employ reason, and then author- 
ity. Authority proceeds from reason, and not reason from 
authority."* Yet this bold thinker, when on his knees, could 
give way to aspirations full of piety : " Lord Jesus," 
exclaimed he, " I ask no other happiness of Thee, but to 
understand, unmixed with deceitful theories, the word that 
Thou hast inspired by thy Holy Spirit ! Show thyself to 
those who ask for Thee alone!" But while Scot rejected 
on the one hand certain traditional errors, and in particular 
the doctrine of transubstantiation, which was creeping into 
the church, he was near falling as regards God and the 

* Prius ratione utendum ac deinde auctoritate. Auctoritas ex vcra 
ratione processit, ratio vero nequaquam ex auctoritato. De div. pr- 
destin. 

vor,. v. 4 



66 ALFRED AND THE BIBLE. 

world into other errors savouring of pantheism.* The phil- 
osophic rationalism of the contemporary of Charles the Bald 
the strange product of one of the obscurest periods of his- 
tory (850) was destined after the lapse of many centuries 
to be taught once more in Great Britain as a modern inven- 
tion of the most enlightened age. 

While Scot was thus plumbing the depths of philosophy, 
others were examining their Bibles ; and if thick darkness 
had not spread over these first glimpses of the dawn, per- 
haps the Church of Great Britain might even then have 
begun to labour for the regeneration of Christendom. A 
youthful prince, thirsting for intellectual enjoyments, for 
domestic happiness, and for the word of God, and who 
sought, by frequent prayer, for deliverance from the bondage 
of sin, had ascended the throne of Wessex, in the year 871. 
Alfred being convinced that Christianity alone could rightly 
mould a nation, assembled round him the most learned men 
from all parts of Europe, and was anxious that the English, 
like the Hebrews, Greeks, and Latins, should possess the 
holy Scripture in their own language. He is the real patron 
of the biblical work, a title far more glorious than that of 
founder of the university of Oxford. After having fought 
more than fifty battles by land and sea, he died while trans- 
lating the Psalms of David for his subjects, -j- 

After this gleam of light thick darkness once more settled 
upon Great Britain. Nine Anglo-Saxon kings ended their 
days in monasteries ; there was a seminary in Rome from 
which every year fresh scholars bore to England the new 
forms of popery ; the celibacy of priests, that cement of the 
Romish hierarchy, was established by a bull about the close 
of the tenth century ; convents were multiplied, considerable 
possessions were bestowed on the Church, and the tax of 
Peter's pence, laid at the pontiff's feet, proclaimed the 
triumph of the papal system. But a reaction soon took 
place : England collected her forces for a war against the 
papacy a war at one time secular and at another spiritual. 

* Deum in omnibus esse. De dmsione nature, b. 74. 
f A portion of the law of God translated by Alfred may be found in 
Wilkins, Concilia, i. p. 1 86, et seq. 



WILUAM THE CONQUEROR. 67 

William of Normandy, Edward III., Wickliffe, and the Re- 
formation, are the four ascending steps of Protestantism in 
England. 

A proud, enterprising, and far-sighted prince, the illegiti- 
mate son of a peasant girl of Falaise and Robert the Devil, 
duke of Normandy, began a contest with the papacy which 
lasted until the Reformation. William the Conqueror, hav- 
ing defeated the Saxons at Hastings in 1066 A.D., took 
possession of England, under the benediction of the Roman 
pontiff. But the conquered country was destined to conquer 
its master. William, who had invaded England in the 
pope's name, had no sooner touched the soil of his new 
kingdom, than he learned to resist Rome, as if the ancient 
liberty of the British Church had revived in him. Being 
firmly resolved to allow no foreign prince or prelate to 
possess in his dominions a jurisdiction independent of his 
own, he made preparations for a conquest far more difficult 
than that of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom. The papacy itself 
furnished him with weapons. The Roman legates prevailed 
on the king to dispossess the English episcopacy in a mass, 
and this was exactly what he wished. To resist the papacy, 
William desired to be sure of the submission of the priests , 
of England. Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury, was re- 
moved, and Lanfranc of Pavia, who had been summoned 
from Bee in Normandy to fill his place, was commissioned 
by the Conqueror to bend the clergy to obedience. This 
prelate, who was regular in his life, abundant in almsgiving, 
a learned disputant, a prudent politician, and a skilful me- 
diator, finding that he had to choose between his master 
King William and his friend the pontiff Hildebrand, gave 
the prince the preference. He refused to go to Rome, not- 
withstanding the threats of the pope, and applied himself 
resolutely to the work the king had intrusted to him. The 
Saxons sometimes resisted the Normans, as the Britons had 
resisted the Saxons; but the second struggle was less 
glorious than the first. A synod at which the king was 
present having met in the abbey of Westminster, William 
commanded Wulston, bishop of Worcester, to give up his 
crosier to him. The old man rose, animated with holy fer- 



68 WULSTON AT EDWARD'S TOMB. 

vour : " king," he said, " from a better man than you I 
received it, and to him only will I return it."* Unhappily 
this "better man" was not Jesus Christ. Then approach- 
ing the tomb of Edward the Confessor, he continued: "0 
my master, it was you who compelled me to assume this 
office ; but now behold a new king and a new primate who 
promulgate new laws. Not unto them, master, but unto 
you, do I resign my crosier and the care of my flock." With 
these words Wulston laid his pastoral staff on Edward's 
tomb. On the sepulchre of the confessor perished the liberty 
of the Anglo-Saxon hierarchy. The deprived Saxon bishops 
were consigned to fortresses or shut up in convents. 

The Conqueror being thus assured of the obedience of the 
bishops, put forward the supremacy of the sword in opposi- 
tion to that of the pope. He nominated directly to all vacant 
ecclesiastical offices, filled his treasury with the riches of the 
churches, required that all priests should make oath to him, 
forbade them to excommunicate his officers without his con- 
sent, not even for incest, and declared that all synodal de- 
cisions must be countersigned by him. " I claim," said he 
to the archbishop one day, raising his arms towards heaven, 
. " I claim to hold in this hand all the pastoral staffs in my 
kingdom." -f- Lanfranc was astonished at this daring speech, 
but prudently kept silent,:}: for a time at least. Episcopacy 
connived at the royal pretensions. 

Will Hildebrand, the most inflexible of popes, bend before 
William? The king was earnest in his desire to enslave 
the Church to the State ; the pope to enslave the State to 
the Church : the collision of these two mighty champions 
threatened to be terrible. But the haughtiest of pontiffs 
was seen to yield as soon as he felt the mail-clad hand of 
the Conqueror, and to shrink unresistingly before it. The 
pope filled all Christendom with confusion, that he might 
deprive princes of the right of investiture to ecclesiastical 

* Divino animi ardore repento inflammatus, regi inquit : Melior te 
his me ornavit cui et reddam. Wilkins, Concilia, i. 367. 

f Respondit rex et dixit se velle omnes baculos pastorales Angliaj in 
manu sua tenere. Script. Anglic. Loud. 1652, fol. p. 1327. 

Lanfranc ad haec miratus est, sed propter majores ecclesiae Christi 
utilitates, quas sine rege perficere non potuit, ad tempus siluit. Ibid. 



THE ^OPE GIVES WAY. 69 

dignities : William would not permit him to interfere with 
that question in England, and Hildebrand submitted. The 
king went even farther : the pope, wishing to enslave the 
clergy, deprived the priests of their lawful wives ; William 
got a decree passed by the council of Winchester in 1076 to 
the effect that the married priests living in castles and towns 
should not be compelled to put away their wives.* This 
was too much : Hildebrand summoned Lanfranc to Rome, 
but William forbade him to go. " Never did king, not even 
a pagan," exclaimed Gregory, "attempt against the holy 

see what this man does not fear to carry out! "7 To 

console himself, be demanded payment of the Peter's pence, 
and an oath of fidelity. William sent the money, but re- 
fused the homage; and when Hildebrand saw the tribute 
which the king had paid, he said bitterly: "What value 
can I set on money which is contributed .with so little 
honour I" J William forbade his clergy to recognise the 
pope, or to publish a bull without the royal approbation, 
which did not prevent Hildebrand from styling him " the 
pearl of princes." " It is true," said he to his legate, " that 
the English king does not behave in certain matters so re- 
ligiously as we could desire Yet beware of exasperating 

him We shall win him over to God and St Peter more 

surely by mildness and reason than by strictness or se- 
verity." || In this manner the pope acted like the archbishop 
siluit : he was silent. It is for feeble governments that 
Rome reserves her energies. 

The Norman kings, desirous of strengthening their work, 
constructed Gothic cathedrals in the room of wooden churches, 
in which they installed their soldier-bishops, as if they were 
strong fortresses. Instead of the moral power and the 
humble crook of the shepherd, they gave them secular power 

* Sacerdotes vcro in castellis vel in ricis habitantes habentes uxores, 
non cogantur nt dimittant. Wilkins, Concilia, i. p. 3C7. 

f Nemo enim omnium regum, etiam paganorum Greg. lib. vii. Ep. 

i. ad Hubert. 

J Pecunias sine honore tributas, quanti pretii habeain. Ibid. 

Gemma priucipnm csse meruisti. Ibid. Ep. xxiii. ad Gulielm. 

|| Facilius leuitatis dulcedine ac rationis ostcnsione, quain austeritnfo 
vel rigore justitiao. Ibid. Ep. v. ad Hugonem. 



70 C^ESAROPAPIA. 

and a staff. The religious episcopate was succeeded by a 
political one. William Rufus went even to greater lengths 
than his father. Taking advantage of the schism which 
divided the papacy, he did without a pope for ten years ; 
leaving abbeys, bishoprics, and even Canterbury vacant, 
and scandalously squandering their revenues. Csesaropapia 
(which transforms a king into a pope) having thus attained 
its greatest excess, a sacerdotal reaction could not fail to 
take place. 

The papacy is about to rise up again in England, and roy- 
alty to decline two movements which are always found 
combined in Great Britain. 



CHAPTER V. 

Anselm's Firmness Becket's Austerity The King scourged John be- 
comes the Pope's Vassal Collision between Popery and Liberty 
The Vassal King ravages his Kingdom Religion of the Senses and 
Superstition. 

WE are now entering upon a new phase of history. Roman- 
ism is on the point of triumphing by the exertions of learned 
men, energetic prelates, and princes in whom extreme im- 
prudence was joined with extreme servility. This is the era 
of the dominion of popery, and we shall see it unscrupu- 
lously employing the despotism by which it is characterized. 
A malady having occasioned some degree of remorse in 
the king, he consented to fill up the vacancy in the archi- 
episcopal see. And now Anselm first appears in England. 
He was born in an Alpine valley, at the town of Aosta in 
Piedmont. Imbibing the instructions of his pious mother 
Ermenberga, and believing that God's throne was placed on 
the summit of the gigantic mountains he saw rising around 
him, the child Anselm climbed them in Iris dreams, and re- 
ceived the bread of heaven from the hands of the Lord. 
Unhappily in after-years he recognised another throne in the 



ANBELM. 7) 

jhurch of Christ, and bowed his head before the chair of St 
Peter. This was the man whom William II. summoned in 
1093 to fill the primacy of Canterbury. Anselm, who was 
then sixty years old, and engaged in teaching at Bee, refused 
at first : the character of Rufus terrified him. " The church 
of England," said he, " is a plough that ouglii to be drawn 
by two oxen of equal strength. How can you yoke together 
an old and timid sheep like me and that wild bull? " At length 
he accepted, and concealing a mind of great power under an 
appearance of humility, he had hardly arrived in England 
before he recognised Pope Urban II., demanded the estates 
of his see which the treasury had seized upon, refused to pay 
the king the sums he demanded, contested the right of in- 
vestiture against Henry I., forbade all ecclesiastics to take 
the feudal oath, and determined that the priests should forth- 
with put away their wives. Scholasticism, of which An- 
selm was the first representative, freed the church from the 
yoke of royalty, but only to chain it to the papal chair. 
The fetters were about to be riveted by a still more ener- 
getic hand ; and what this great theologian had begun, a 
great worldling was to carry on. 

At the hunting parties of Henry II. a man attracted the 
attention of his sovereign by his air of frankness, agreeable 
manners, witty conversation, and exuberant vivacity. This 
was Thomas Becket, the son of an Anglo-Saxon and a Sy- 
rian woman. Being both priest and soldier, he was appoint- 
ed at the same time by the king prebend of Hastings and 
governor of the Tower. "When nominated chancellor of 
England, he showed himself no less expert than Wilfrid in 
misappropriating the wealth of the minors in his charge, 
and of the abbeys and bishoprics, and indulged in the most 
extravagant luxury. Henry, the first of the Plantagenets, 
a man of undecided character, having noticed Becket's zeal 
in upholding the prerogatives of the crown, appointed him 
archbishop of Canterbury. " Now, sire," remarked the pri- 
mate, with a smile, "when I shall have to choose between 
God's favour and yours, remember it is yours that I shall 
sacrifice." 

Becket, who, as keeper of the seals, had been the most 



72 THOMAS BECKET OPPOSES THE KING. 

magnificent of courtiers, affected as archbishop to be the 
most venerable of saints. He sent back the seals to the 
king, assumed the robe of a monk, wore sackcloth filled with 
vermin, lived on the plainest food, every day knelt down to 
wash the feet of the poor, paced the cloisters of his cathedra! 
with tearful eyes, and spent hours in prayer before the altar. 
As champion of the priests, even in their crimes, he took 
under his protection one who to the crime of seduction had 
added the murder of his victim's father. 

The judges having represented to Henry that during the 
first eight years of his reign a hundred murders had been com- 
mitted by ecclesiastics, the king in 1164 summoned a coun- 
cil at Clarendon, in which certain regulations or constitu- 
tions were drawn up, with the object of preventing the 
encroachments of the hierarchy. Becket at first refused to 
sign them, but at length consented, and then withdrew into 
solitary retirement to mourn over his fault. Pope Alexan- 
der III. released him from his oath ; and then began a fierce 
and long struggle between the king and the primate. Four 
knights of the court, catching up a hasty expression of their 
master's, barbarously murdered the archbishop at the foot of 
the altar in his. own cathedral church (A. D. 1170). The 
people looked upon Becket as a saint : immense crowds 
came to pray at his tomb, at which many miracles were 
worked.* " Even from his grave," said Becket's partisans, 
" he renders his testimony in behalf of the papacy." 

Henry now passed from one extreme to the other. He 
entered Canterbury barefooted, and prostrated himself be- 
fore the martyr's tomb : the bishops, priests, and monks, to 
the number of eighty, passed before him, each bearing a 
scourge, and struck three or five blows according to their 
rank on the naked shoulders of the king. In former ages, 
so the priestly fable ran, Saint Peter had scourged an arch- 
bishop of Canterbury : now Rome in sober reality scourges 
the back of royalty, and nothing can henceforward check her 
victorious career. A Plantagenet surrendered England to 

* In loco passionis et ubi sepultus est, paralytici curantur, cceci videnl 
surdi audiunt. Jolian. Salisb. Epp. 286, 



JOHN TEE POPE'S VASSAL. 73 

the pope, and the pope gave him authority to subdue Ire- 
land* 

Rome, who had set her foot on the neck of a king, was 
destined under one of the sons of Henry II. to set it on the 
neck of England. John being unwilling to acknowledge an 
archbishop of Canterbury illegally nominated by Pope In- 
nocent III., the latter, more daring than Hildebrand, laid 
the kingdom under an interdict. Upon this John ordered 
all the prelates and abbots to leave England, and sent a 
monk to Spain as ambassador to Mahomet-el-Nasir, offer- 
ing to turn Mahometan and to become his vassal. But as 
Philip Augustus was preparing to dethrone him, John made 
up his mind to become a vassal of Innocent, and not of Ma- 
homet which was about the same thing to him. On the 
15th May 1213, he laid his crown at the legate's feet, de- 
clared that he surrendered his kingdom of England to the 
pope, and made oath to him as to his lord paramount. { 

A national protest then boldly claimed the ancient liber- 
ties of the people. Forty-five barons, armed in complete 
mail, and mounted on their noble war-horses, surrounded by 
their knights and servants and about two thousand soldiers, 
met at Brackley during the festival of Easter in 1215, and 
sent a deputation to Oxford, where the court then resided. 
" Here," sakl they to the king, " is the charter which conse- 
crates the liberties confirmed by Henry II., and which you 

also have solemnly sworn to observe." "Why do they 

not demand my crown also?" said the king in a furious 
passion, and then with an oath,J: he added: "I will not 
grant them liberties which will make me a slave." This is 
the usual language of weak and absolute kings. Neither 
would the nation submit to be enslaved. The barons occu- 
pied London, and on the 15th June 1215, the king signed 
the famous Magiia Charta at Runnymede. The political 

* Significasti si quidem nobis, fill carissime, te Hiberniae insulam ad 
subdendum ilium populum velle intrare, nos itaque gratum et acceptum 
habemus ut pro dilatandis ecclesiae terminis insulam ingrediaris. Ad- 
rian IV., Bulla 1154 in Rymer, Acta Publica. 

+ Resignavit coronam suam in manus domini papa;. Matth. ParL<, 
J98et207. 

J Cum juramento furibunds. Ibid. 213 

4* D 



74 POPERY AND LIBERTY IN COLLISION. 

protestantism of the thirteenth century would have done but 
little, however, for the greatness of the nation, without the 
religious protestantism of the sixteenth. 

This was the first time that the papacy came into collision 
with modern liberty. It shuddered in alarm, and the shock 
was violent. Innocent swore (as was his custom), and then 
declared the Great Charter null and void, forbade the king 
under pain of anathema to respect the liberties which he 
had confirmed,* ascribed the conduct of the barons to the in- 
stigation of Satan, and ordered them to make apology to the 
king, and to send a deputation to Rome to learn from the 
mouth of the pope himself what should be the government 
of England. This was the way in which the papacy wel- 
comed the first manifestations of liberty among the na- 
tions, and made known the model system under which it 
claimed to govern the whole world. 

The priests of England supported the anathemas pro- 
nounced by their chief. They indulged in a thousand jeers 
and sarcasms against John about the charter he had ac- 
cepted : " This is the twenty-fifth king of England not a 
king, not even a kingling but the disgrace of kings a 
king without a kingdom the fifth wheel of a waggon the 
last of kings, and the disgrace of his people ! I would not 

give a straw for him Fuisti rex nunc fex, (once a king, 

but now a clown.)" John, unable to support his disgrace, 
groaned and gnashed his teeth and rolled his eyes, tore 
sticks from the hedges and gnawed them like a maniac, or 
dashed them into fragments on the ground, f 

The barons, unmoved alike by the insolence of the pope 
and the despair of the king, replied that they would maintain 
the charter. Innocent excommunicated them. "Is it the 
pope's business to regulate temporal matters?" asked they. 
" By what right do vile usurers and foul simoniac& domineer 
over our country and excommunicate the whole world ? " 

The pope soon triumphed throughout England. His vas- 

* Sub intimatione anathematis prohibentes ne dictus rex earn obser- 
vare praesumat. Matth. Paris, 224. 

t Arreptos baculos et stipites more furiosi nunc corrodere, nunc corro- 
BOS confringere. Ibid. 222, 



JOHN RAVAGES ENGLAND HIS DEATH. 75 

flal John, having hired some bands of adventurers from the 
continent, traversed at their head the whole country from the 
Channel to the Forth. These mercenaries carried desolation 
in their track : they extorted money, made prisoners, burnt 
the barons' castles, laid waste their parks, and dishonoured 
their wives and daughters.* The king would sleep in a 
house, and the next morning set fire to it. Blood-stained 
assassins scoured the country during the night, the sword in 
one hand and the torch in the other, marking their progress 
by murder and conflagration. 7 Such was the enthroniza- 
tion of popery in England. At this sight the barons, over- 
come by emotion, denounced both the king and the pope : 
"Alas! poor country!" they exclaimed. "Wretched Eng- 
land! And thou, pope, a curse light upon thee!"J 

The curse was not long delayed. As the king was re- 
turning from some more than usually successful foray, and 
AS the royal waggons were crossing the sands of the Wash, 
the tide rose and all sank in the abyss. This accident 
filled John with terror : it seemed to him that the earth was 
about to open and swallow him up ; he fled to a convent, 
where he drank copiously of cider, and died of drunkenness 
and fright. || 

Such was the end of the pope's vassal of his armed 
missionary in Great Britain. Never had so vile a prince 
been the involuntary occasion to his people of such great 
benefits. From his reign England may date her enthusiasm 
for liberty and her dread of popery. 

During -this time a great transformation had been accom- 
plished. Magnificent churches and the marvels of religious 
art, with ceremonies and a multitude of prayers and chant- 
ings dazzled the eyes, charmed the ears, and captivated the 
senses; but testified also to the absence of every strong 

* Uxores et filiaa suas ludibrio expositas. Matth. Paris, 231. 

+ Discurrebant sicarii caede humana cruentati, noctivagi, incendiafii, 
strictis ensibus. Ibid. 

Sic barones lacrymantcs et lamentantes regem et papam maledix- 
erunt. Ibid. 234. 

Aperta est in mediis fluctibus terra et Yoraginis abyssus, quse ab- 
sorbuerunt universa cum hominibus et equis. Ibid. 242. 

y Novi ciceris potatione nimis repletus. Ibid. 1216. 



76 REACTION. 

moral and Christian disposition, and the predominance of 
worldliness in the church. At the same time the adoration 
of images and relics, saints, angels, and Mary the mother of 
God, the worships of latria, doulia, and Tiyperdoulia* the 
real Mediator transported from the throne of mercy to the 
seat of vengeance, at once indicated and kept up among the 
people that ignorance of truth and absence of grace which 
characterize popery. All these errors tended to bring about 
a reaction : and in fact the march of the Eeformation may 
now be said to begin. 

England had been, brought low by the papacy: it rose up 
again by resisting Eome. Grostete, Bradwardine, and Ed- 
ward III. prepared the way for Wickliffe, and Wickliffe for 
the Reformation. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Reaction Grostete Principles of Reform Contest with the Pope 
Sewal Progress of the Nation Opposition to the Papacy Conver- 
sion of Bradwardine Grace is Supreme Edward III. Statutes of 
Provisors and PrtBmunire. 

IN the reign of Henry III., son of John, while the king was 
conniving at the usurpations of Rome, and the pope ridicul- 
ing the complaints of the barons, a pious and energetic man, 
of comprehensive understanding, was occupied in the study 
of the Holy Scriptures in their original languages, and bow- 
ing to their sovereign authority. Robert Grostfite (Great- 
head or Capita] was born of poor parents in the county of 
Lincolnshire, and being raised to the see of Lincoln in 1235, 
when he was sixty years of age, he boldly undertook to 
reform his diocese, one of the largest in England. Nor 
was this all. At the very time when the Roman pontiff, 
who had hitherto been content to be called the vicar of Saint 

* The Romish church distinguishes three kinds of worship : latria, 
that paid to God ; doulia* to saints ; and hyperdoulia, to the Virgin 
Mary. 



QROSTETE REFORMING PRINCIPLES. 77 

Peter, proclaimed himself the yicar of God,* and was order- 
ing the English bishops to find benefices for three hun- 
dred Romans^ Grostete was declaring, that " to follow a 
pope who rebels against the will of Christ, is to separate 
from Christ and his body ; and if ever the time should come 
when all men follow an erring pontiff, then will be the great 
apostasy. Then will true Christians refuse to obey, and 
Rome will be the cause of an unprecedented schism." J Thus 
did he predict the Reformation. Disgusted at the avarice of 
the monks and priests, he visited Rome to demand a reform. 
" Brother," said Innocent IV. to him with some irritation, 
" 7s thine eye evil because I am good ? " The English 
bishop exclaimed with a sigh : " money, money ! how 
great is thy power especially in this court of Rome ! " 

A year had scarcely elapsed before Innocent commanded 
the bishop to give a canonry in Lincoln cathedral to his in- 
fant nephew. Grostete replied : " After the sin of Lucifei 
there is none more opposed to the gospel than that which 
ruins souls by giving them a faithless minister. Bad pas- 
tors are the cause of unbelief, heresy, and disorder. Those 
who introduce them into the church are little better than 
antichrists, and their culpability is in proportion to their 
dignity. Although the chief of the angels should order me 
to commit such a sin, I would refuse. My obedience forbids 
me to obey ; and therefore I rebel." 

Thus spoke a bishop to his pontiff: his obedience to the 
word of God forbade him to obey the pope. This was the 
principle of the Reformation. " Who is this old driveller 
that in his dotage dares to judge of my conduct ? " exclaimed 
Innocent, whose wrath was appeased by the intervention of 
certain cardinals. Grostete on his dying bed professed still 



Non puri hominis sed reri Dei viccm gerit in terris. Innocent III. 
Epp. lib. vi. i. 335. 

t Ut trecentis Romania in primis beneficiis vacantibus providerent. 
Matth. Paris, ann. 1240. 

J Absit et quod ha?c scdes ct in ea proesidentes causa sint schismatis 

apparcntis. Ortinnus Gratius, ed. Brown, fol. 251. 

Obedienter non obedio sed contradico et rcbello. Matth. Paris, ad. 
aim. 1252. 



78 COKTEST WITH THE POPE PROGRESS OF THE NATION. 

more clearly the principles of the reformers ; he declared that 
a heresy was " an opinion conceived by carnal motives, con- 
trary to Scripture, openly taught and obstinately defended," 
thus asserting the authority of Scripture instead of the 
authority of the church. He died in peace, and the public 
voice proclaimed him " a searcher of the Scriptures, an ad- 
versary of the pope, and despiser of the Romans." * Inno- 
cent, desiring to take vengeance on his bones, meditated the 
exhumation of his body, when one night (says Matthew of 
Paris) the bishop appeared before him. Drawing near the 
pontiff's bed, he struck him with his crosier, and thus 
addressed him with terrible voice and threatening look : -J- 
'' Wretch ! the Lord doth not permit thee to .have any power 
over me. Woe be to thee ! " The vision disappeared, and 
the pope, uttering a cry as if he had been struck by some 
sharp weapon, lay senseless on his couch. Never after did 
he pass a quiet night, and pursued by the phantoms of his 
troubled imagination, he expired while the palace re-echoed 
with his lamentable groans. 

Grostete was not single in his opposition to the pope. 
Sewal, archbishop of York, did the same, and " the more 
the pope cursed him, the more the people blessed him." \ 
" Moderate your tyranny," said the archbishop to the pon- 
tiff, "for the Lord said to Peter, Feed my sheep, and not 
shear them, flay them, or devour them" The pope smiled 
and let the bishop speak, because the king allowed the pope 
to act. The power of England, which was constantly in- 
creasing, was soon able to give more force to these protests. 

The nation was indeed growing in greatness. The mad- 
ness of John, which had caused the English people to lose 

* Scripturarum sedulus perscrutator diversarum, Romanorum malleus 
et contemptor. Matth. Paris, vol. ii. p. 876, fol. Lond. 1640. Sixteen 
of his writings (Sermones et epistolse) will bo found in Brown, app. ad 
Fasciculum. 

f Nocte apparuit ei episcopus vultu severe, intuitu austero, ac voce 
terribili. Ibid. 883. 

t Quanto magis a papa maledicebatur,tanto plus a populo benediceba- 
tur. Ibid, ad ann. 1257. 

Pasce oves meas, non tonde, non excoria, non eviscera, vel devorando 
<> tisume. Ibid, ad ann. 1258. 



OPPOSITION TO THE PAPACY. 79 

their continental possessions, had given them more unity 
and power. The Norman kings, being compelled to renounce 
entirely the country which had been their cradle, had at 
length made up their minds to look upon England as their 
home. The two races, so long hostile, melted one into the 
other. Free institutions were formed ; the laws were studied; 
and colleges were founded. The language began to assume 
a regular form, and the ships of England were already for- 
midable at sea. For more than a century the most brilliant 
victories attended the British armies. A king of France 
was brought captive to London : an English king was 
crowned at Paris. Even Spain and Italy felt the valour of 
these proud islanders. The English people took their station 
in the foremost rank. Now the character of a nation is 
never raised by halves. When the mighty ones of the 
earth were seen to fall before her, England could no longer 
crawl at the feet of an Italian priest. 

At no period did her laws attack the papacy with so much 
energy. At the beginning of the fourteenth century an Eng- 
lishman having brought to London one of the pope's bulls 
a bull of an entirely spiritual character, it was an excom- 
munication was prosecuted as a traitor to the crown, and 
would have been hanged, had not the sentence, at the chan- 
cellor's intercession, been changed to perpetual banishment.* 
The common law was the weapon the government then op- 
posed to the papal bulls. Shortly afterwards, in 1307, King 
Edward ordered the sheriffs to resist the arrogant pretensions 
of the Romish agents. But it is to two great men in the 
fourteenth century, equally illustrious, the one in the state, 
and the other in the church, that England is indebted for the 
development of the protestant element in England. 

In 1346, an English army, 34,000 strong, met face to face 
at Crecy a French army of 100,000 fighting men. Two in- 
dividuals of very different characters were in the English 
host. One of them was King Edward III., a brave and am- 
bitious prince, who, being resolved to recover for the royal 
authority all its power, and for England all her glory, had 

" Fuller's Church History, cent. xiv. p. 90, fol. Lond. 1655. 



80 BRADWARDINE 's CONVERSION. 

undertaken the conquest of France. The other was his 
chaplain Bradwardine, a man of so humble a character that 
his meekness was often taken for stupidity. And thus it 
was that on his receiving the pallium at Avignon from the 
hands of the pope on his elev.ation to the see of Canterbury, 
a jester mounted on an ass rode into the hall and petitioned 
thepontiffto make him primate msiea.d of that imbecile priest. 
Bradwardine was one of the most pious men of the age, 
and to his prayers his sovereign's victories were ascribed. 
He was also one of the greatest geniuses of his time, and 
occupied the first rank among astronomers, philosophers, and 
mathematicians.* The pride of science had at first alienated 
him from the doctrine of the cross. But one day while in 
the house of God and listening to the reading of the Holy 
Scriptures, these words struck his ear : It is not of him that 
tvilleth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth 
mercy. His ungrateful heart, he tells us, at first rejected this 
humiliating doctrine with aversion. Yet the word of God 
had laid its powerful hold upon him ; he was converted to 
the truths he had despised, and immediately began to set 
forth the doctrines of eternal grace at Merton College, 
Oxford. He had drunk so deep at the fountain of Scripture 
that the traditions of men concerned him but little, and he 
was so absorbed in adoration in spirit and in truth, that he 
remarked not outward superstitions. His lectures were 
eagerly listened to and circulated through all Europe. The 
grace of God was their very essence, as it was of the Refor- 
mation. With sorrow Bradwardine beheld Pelagianism 
everywhere substituting a mere religion of externals for 
inward Christianity, and on his knees he struggled for the 
salvation of the church. "As in the times of old, four 
hundred and fifty prophets of Baal strove against a single 
prophet of God ; so now, Lord," he exclaimed, " the num- 
ber of those who strive with Pelagius against thy free grace 
cannot be counted. t They pretend not to receive grace 

* His Arithmetic and Geometry have been published ; but I am 
not aware if that is the case with his Astronomical Tables. 

t Quot, Domine, hodie cum Pelagio pro hbero arbitrio contra gra- 
tuitam gratiam tuam pugnant? De causa Dei atlversus Pelagium, 
Hbritres, Lond. 1618. 



EDWARD HI. 81 

freely, but to buy it.* The will of men (they say) should 
precede, and thine should follow : theirs is the mistress, and 

thine the servantf Alas! nearly the whole world is 

walking in error in the steps of Pelagius.J Arise, Lord, 
and judge thy cause." And the Lord did arise, but not until 
after the death of this pious archbishop in the days of 
Wickliffe, who, when a youth, listened to the lectures at 
Merton College and especially in the days of Luther and 
of Calvin. His contemporaries gave him the name of the 
profound doctor. 

If Bradwardine walked truthfully in the path of faith, his 
illustrious patron Edward advanced triumphantly in the 
field of policy. Pope Clement IV. having decreed that the 
first two vacancies in the Anglican church should be con- 
ferred on two of his cardinals : " France is becoming Eng- 
lish" said the courtiers to the king : " and by way of com- 
pensation, England is becoming Italian." Edward, desirous 
of guaranteeing the religious liberties of England, passed 
with the consent of parliament in 1350 the statute of Pro- 
visors, which made void every ecclesiastical appointment 
contrary to the rights of the king, the chapters, or the patrons. 
Thus the privileges of the chapters and the liberty of the 
English Catholics, as well as the independence of the crown, 
were protected against the invasion of foreigners ; and im- 
prisonment or banishment for life was denounced upon all 
offenders against the law. 

This bold step alarmed the pontiff. Accordingly, three 
years after, the king having nominated one of his secretaries 
to the see of Durham a man without any of the qualities 
becoming a bishop the pope readily confirmed the appoint- 
ment. When some one expressed his astonishment at this, 
the pope made answer : " If the king of England had nomi- 
nated an ass, I would have accepted him." This may re- 
mind us of the ass of Avignon ; and it would seem that this 
humble animal at that time played a significant part in the 

* Ncquaquam gratuita scd vcmlita. Do causa* Dei advcrsns Pelagium, 
libri tres, Lond. 1618. ^^~ 

f Suamvoluntatem pra:ireutdominam,tuamsubsequiutanciliam. Ibid 
% Totus paene mundua post Pelagium abiit in errorem. Ibid. 

D2 



82 STATUTES OF PROVISOES AND PE^EMUNIRK. 

elections to the papacy. But be that as it may, the pope 
withdrew his pretensions. " Empires have their term," ob- 
serves an historian at this place ; " when once they have 
reached it, they halt, they retrograde, they fall."* 

The term seemed to be drawing nearer every day. In the 
reign of Edward III., between 1343 and 1353, again in 1364, 
and finally under Richard II. in 1393, those stringent laws 
were passed which interdicted all appeal to the court of 
Rome, all bulls from the Roman bishop, all excommunica- 
tions, &c., in a word, every act infringing on the rights of 
the crown; and declared that whoever should bring such 
documents into England, or receive, publish, or execute 
them, should be put out of the king's protection, deprived of 
their property, attached in their persons, and brought before 
the king in council to undergo their trial according to the 
terms of the act. Such was the statute of Prcemunire. -\- 

Great was the indignation of the Romans at the news of 
this law : " If the statute of mortmain put the pope into a 
sweat," says Fuller, " this of prcemunire gave him a fit of 
fever." One pope called it an " execrable statute," " a 
horrible crime."J Such are the terms applied by the pon- 
tiffs to all that thwarts their ambition. 

Of the two wars carried on by Edward the one against 
the king of France, and the other against popery the latter 
was the most righteous and important. The benefits which 
this prince had hoped to derive from his brilliant victories at 
Crecy and Poitiers dwindled away almost entirely before his 
death ; while his struggles with the papacy, founded as they 
were on truth, have exerted even to our own days an indis- 
putable influence on the destinies of Great Britain. Yet the 
prayers and the conquests of Bradwardine, who proclaimed 



* Habent imperia sues terminos ; hue cum venerint, sistunt, retro 
cedunt, ruunt. Fuller's Hist. cent. xiv. p. 116. 

f The most natural meaning of the word prcemunire (given more par- 
ticuarly to the act of 1393) seems to be that suggested by Fuller, cent. 
xiv. (p. 148) : to fence and fortify the regal power from foreign assault 
See the whole bill, ibid. p. 145-147. 

J Execrabile statutum fcedum et turpe facinus. Martin V. to the 

Duke of Bedford, Fuller, cent, xiv p. 148. 



THE BEGGING FRIARS. 83 

in that fallen age the doctrine of grace, produced effects still 
greater, not only for the salvation of many souls, but for the 
liberty, moral force, and greatness of England. 



CHAPTER VII. 

The Mendicant Friars Their Disorders and Popular Indignation 
Wickliffe His Success Speeches of the Peers against the Papal Tri- 
bute Agreement of Bruges Courtenay and Lancaster WicklifFe 
before the Convocation Altercation between Lancaster and Cour- 
tenay Riot Three Briefs against Wickliffe Wickliffe at Lambeth 
Mission of the Poor Prietts Their Preachings and Persecutions 
Wickliffe and the Four Regents. 

THUS in the first half of the fourteenth century, nearly two 
hundred years before the Reformation, England appeared 
weary of the yoke of Rome. Bradwardine was no more ; 
but a man who had been his disciple was about to succeed 
him, and without attaining to the highest functions, to ex- 
hibit in his person the past and future tendencies of the 
church of Christ in Great Britain. The English Reforma- 
tion did not begin with Henry VIII. : the revival of the 
sixteenth century is but a link in the chain commencing 
with the apostles and reaching to us. 

The resistance of Edward III. to the papacy without had 
not suppressed the papacy within. The mendicant friars, 
and particularly the Franciscans, those fanatical soldiers of 
the pope, were endeavouring by pious frauds to monopolize 
the wealth of the country. " Every year," said they, " Saint 
Francis descends from heaven to purgatory, and delivers the 
souls of all those who were buried in the dress of his order." 
These friars used to kidnap children from their parents and 
shut them up in monasteries. They affected to be poor, and 
with a wallet on their back, begged with a piteous air from 
both high and low ; but at the same time they dwelt in 
palaces, heaped up treasures, dressed in costly garments, 



84 INDIGNATION AGAINST THEIR DISORDER 

and wasted their time in luxurious entertainmc., <.* The 
least of them looked upon themselves as lords, and those 
who wore the doctor's cap considered themselves kings. 
While they diverted themselves, eating and drinking at 
their well-spread tables, they used to send ignorant un- 
educated persons in their place to preach fables and legends 
to amuse and plunder the people. t If any rich man talked 
of giving alms to the poor and not to the monks, they ex- 
claimed loudly against such impiety, and declared with 
threatening voice : " If you do so we will leave the country, 
and return accompanied by a legion of glittering helmets. "t 
Public indignation was at its height. " The monks and 
priests of Rome," was the cry, " are eating us away like a 

cancer. God must deliver us or the people will perish 

Woe be to them ! the cup of wrath will run over. Men 
of holy church shall be despised as carrion, as dogs shall 
they be cast out in open places."^ 

The arrogance of Rome made the cup run over. Pope 
Urban V., heedless of the laurels Avon by the conqueror at 
Crecy and Poitiers, summoned Edward III. to recognise 
him as legitimate sovereign of England, and to pay as feu- 
dal tribute the annual rent of one thousand marcs. In case 
of refusal the king was to appear before him at Rome. 
For thirty-three years the popes had never mentioned the 
tribute accorded by John to Innocent III., and which had 
always been paid very irregularly. The conqueror of the 
Valois was irritated by this insolence on the part of an 
Italian bishop, and called on God to avenge England. 
From Oxford came forth the avenger. 

John Wickliffe, born in 1324, in a little village in York- 
shire, was one of the students who attended the lectures of 
the pious Bradwardine at Merton College. He was in the 
flower of his age, and produced a great sensation in the uni- 
versity. In 1348, a terrible pestilence, which is said to have 

* When they have overmuch riches, both in great waste houses 
and precious clothes, in great feasts and many jewels and treasures. 
Wickliffe's Tracts and Treatises, edited by the Wickliffe Society, p. 224. 

t Ibid r 240. t Come again with bright heads. Ibid. 

WickluTe, The Last Age of the Church. 



JOHN WICKLIFFE. 85 

carried off half the human race, appeared in England after 
successively devastating Asia and the continent of Europe. 
This visitation of the Almighty sounded like the trumpet 
of the judgment-day in the heart of Wickliffe. Alarmed 
at the thoughts of eternity, the young man for he was 
then only twenty-four years old passed days and nights 
in his cell groaning and sighing, and calling upon God to 
show him the path he ought to follow.* He found it in the 
Holy Scriptures, and resolved to make it known to others. 
He commenced with prudence; but being elected in 1361 
warden of Balliol, and in 1365 warden of Canterbury Col- 
lege also, he began to set forth the doctrine of faith in a 
more energetic manner. His biblical and philosophical 
studies, his knowledge of theology, his penetrating mind, the 
purity of his manners, and his unbending courage, rendered 
him the object of general admiration. A profound teacher, 
like his master, and an eloquent preacher, he demonstrated 
to the learned during the course of the week what he intended 
to preach, and on Sunday he preached to the people what he 
had previously demonstrated. His disputations gave strength 
to his sermons, and his sermons shed light upon his dispu- 
tations. He accused the clergy of having banished the 
Holy Scriptures, and required that the authority of the word 
of God should be re-established in the church. Loud accla- 
mations crowned these discussions, and the crowd of vulgar 
minds trembled with indignation when they heard these 
shouts of applause. 

Wickliffe was forty years old when the papal arrogance 
stirred England to its depths. Being at once an able politi- 
cian and a fervent Christian, he vigorously defended the 
rights of the crown against the Romish aggression, and by 
his arguments not only enlightened his fellow-countrymen 
generally, but stirred up the zeal of several members of both 
houses of parliament. 

The parliament assembled, and never perhaps had it been 
summoned on a question which excited to so high a degree 
the emotions of England, and indeed of Christendom. The 

* Long debating and deliberating with himself, with many secret sighs. 
Foxe, Acts and Monument?, i. p. 485, fol. Loud. 1684. 



86 THE LORDS AGAINST THE PAPAL TRIBUTE. 

debates in the House of Lords were especially remarkable : 
all the arguments of Wickliffe were reproduced. " Feudal 
tribute is due," said one, " only to him who can grant feudal 
protection in return. Now how can the pope wage war to 
protect his fiefs ?" " Is it as vassal of the crown or as feudal 
superior," asked another, " that the pope demands part of 
our property ? Urban V. will not accept the first of these 

titles Well and good! but the English people will not 

acknowledge the second." " Why," said a third, " was this 
tribute originally granted ? To pay the pope for absolving 
John His demand, then, is mere simony, a kind of cleri- 
cal swindling, which the lords spiritual and temporal should 
indignantly oppose." " No," said another speaker, " England 
belongs not to the pope. The pope is but a man, subject to 
sin ; but .Christ is the Lord of lords, and this kingdom is 
held directly and solely of Christ alone."* Thus spoke the 
lords inspired by Wickliffe. Parliament decided unanimously 
that no prince had the right to alienate the sovereignty of 
the kingdom without the consent of the other two estates, 
and that if the pontiff should attempt to proceed against the 
king of England as his vassal, the nation should rise in a 
body to maintain the independence of the crown. 
' To no purpose did this generous resolution excite the 
wrath of the partisans of Eome ; to no purpose did they as- 
sert that, by the canon law, the king ought to be deprived 
of his fief, and that England now belonged to the pope : 
" No," replied Wickliffe, " the canon law has no force when it 
is opposed to the word of God." Edward III. made Wickliffe 
one of his chaplains, and the papacy has ceased from that 
hour to lay claim in explicit terms at least to the sove- 
reignty of England. 

When the pope gave up his temporal he was desirous, at 
the very least, of keeping up his ecclesiastical pretensions, 
and to procure the repeal of the statutes of Prcemunire and 
Provisors. It was accordingly resolved to hold a conference 

* These opinions are reported by Wickliffe, in a treatise preserved in the 
Selden MSS. and printed by Mr J. Lewis, in his History of Wickliffe, 
App. No 30, p. 349. He was present during the debate ; quam audivi in 
juodam concilia a dominis secularibvs. 



AGREEMENT OF BRUGES COURTENAY AND LANCASTER. 87 

at Bruges to treat of this question, and Wickliffe, who had 
been created doctor of theology two years before, proceeded 
thither with the other commissioners in April 1374. They 
came to an arrangement in 1375 that the king should bind 
himself to repeal the penalties denounced against the ponti- 
fical agents, and that the pope should confirm the king's 
ecclesiastical presentations.* But the nation was not pleased 
with this compromise. " The clerks sent from Rome," said 
the Commons, " are more dangerous for the kingdom than 
Jews or Saracens ; every papal agent resident in England, 
and every Englishman living at the court of Rome, should 
be punished with death." Such was the language of the 
Good Parliament. In the fourteenth century the English 
nation called a parliament good which did not yield to the 
papacy. 

Wickliffe, after his return to England, was presented to 
the rectory of Lutterworth, and from that time a practical 
activity was added to his academic influence. At Oxford he 
spoke as a master to the young theologians ; in his parish 
he addressed the people as a preacher and as a pastor. 
" The Gospel," said he, " is the only source of religion. The 
Roman pontiff is a mere cut-purse,f and, far from having 
the right to reprimand the whole world, he may be lawfully 
reproved by his inferiors, and even by laymen." 

The papacy grew alarmed. Courtenay, son of the Earl of 
Devonshire, an imperious but grave priest, and full of zeal 
for what he believed to be the truth, had recently been ap- 
pointed to the see of London. In parliament he had resisted 
Wickliffe's patron, John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, third 
son of Edward III., and head of the house of that name. 
The bishop, observing that the doctrines of the reformer 
were spreading among the people, both high and low, 
charged him with heresy, and summoned him to appear 
before the convocation assembled in St Paul's Cathedral. 

On the 19th February 1377, an immense crowd, heated 
with fanaticism, thronged the approaches to the church and 

* Rymer, yii. p. 33, 83-88. 

t The proud worldly priest of Rome, and the most cursed of clippers 
and purse-kervers. Lewis, History of Wickliffe, p. 37. Oxford, 1820. 



88 WICKXIFFE BEFORE THE CONVOCATION. 

filled its aisles, while the citizens favourable to the Reform 
remained concealed in their houses. Wickliffe moved for- 
ward, preceded by Lord Percy, marshal of England, and sup- 
ported by the Duke of Lancaster, who defended him from 
purely political motives. He was followed by four bachelors 
of divinity, his counsel, and passed through the hostile mul- 
titude, who looked upon Lancaster as the enemy of their 
liberties, and upon himself as the enemy of the church. 
11 Let not the sight of these bishops make you shrink a 
hair's breadth in your profession of faith," said the prince to 
the doctor. " They are unlearned ; and as for this concourse 
of people, fear nothing, we are here to defend you."* When 
the reformer had crossed the threshold of the cathedral, the 
crowd within appeared like a solid wall ; and, notwithstand- 
ing the efforts of the earl-marshal, Wickliffe and Lancaster 
could not advance. The people swayed to and fro, hands 
were raised in violence, and loud hootings re-echoed through 
the building. At length Percy made an opening in the 
dense multitude, and Wickliffe passed on. 

The haughty Courtenay, who had been commissioned by 
the archbishop to preside over the assembly, watched these 
strange movements with anxiety, and beheld with displeas- 
ure the learned doctor accompanied by the two most power- 
ful .men in England. He said nothing to the Duke of Lan- 
caster, who at that time administered the kingdom, but turn- 
ing towards Percy observed sharply : " If I had known, my 
lord, that you claimed to be master in this church, I would 
have taken measures to prevent your entrance." Lancaster 
coldly rejoined : " He shall keep such mastery here, though 
you say nay." Percy now turned to Wickliffe, who had re- 
mained standing, and said : " Sit down and rest yourself." 
At this Courtenay gave way to his anger, and exclaimed in 
a loud tone : " He must not sit down ; criminals stand be- 
fore their judges." Lancaster, indignant that a learned doc- 
tor of England should be refused a favour to which his age 
alone entitled him (for he was between fifty and sixty) made 
answer to the bishop : " My lord, you are very arrogant ; 

* Foxe, Acts, i. p. 487, fol. Loud. 1684. 



ALTERCATION. 89 

take care or I may bring down your pride, and not yours 

only, but that of all the prelacy in England."* " Do me all 
the harm you can," was Courtenay's haughty reply. The 
prince rejoined with some emotion : " You are insolent, my 
lord. You think, no doubt, you can trust on your family 

but your relations will have trouble enough to protect 

themselves." To this the bishop nobly replied : " My con- 
fidence is not in my parents nor in any man ; but only in 
God, in whom I trust, and by whose assistance I will be bold 
to speak the truth." Lancaster, who saw hypocrisy only in 
these words, turned to one of his attendants, and whispered 
in his ear, but so loud as to be heard by the bystanders : " I 
would rather pluck the bishop by the hair of his head out of 
his chair, than take this at his hands." Every impartial 
reader must confess that the prelate spoke with greater dig- 
nity than the prince. Lancaster had hardly uttered these 
imprudent words before the bishop's partisans fell upon him 
and Percy, and even upon Wickliffe, who alone had remained 
calm.-j- The two noblemen resisted, their friends and ser- 
vants defended them, the uproar became extreme, and there 
was no hope of restoring tranquillity. The two lords escaped 
with difficulty, and the assembly broke up in great confu- 
sion. 

On the following day the earl-marshal having called upon 
parliament to apprehend the disturbers of the public peace, 
the clerical party, uniting with the enemies of Lancaster, 
filled the streets with their clamour ; and while the duke and 
the earl escaped by the Thames, the mob collected before 
Percy's house broke down the doors, searched every cham- 
ber, and thrust their swords into every dark corner. "When 
they found that he had escaped, the rioters, imagining that 
he was concealed in Lancaster's palace, rushed to the Savoy, 
at that time the most magnificent building in the kingdom. 
They killed a priest who endeavoured to stay them, tore 
down the ducal arms, and hung them on the gallows like 
those of a traitor. They would have gone still farther if the 
bishop had not very opportunely reminded them that they 

Fuller, Church Hist. cent. xiv. p. 135. 
t Fall furiously on the lords. Ibid. 136 
VOL. V. 5 



90 RIOT WICKLIFFE AT LAMBETH. 

were in Lent. As for "Wickliffe, he was dismissed with an 
injunction against preaching his doctrines. 

But this decision of the priests was not ratified by the 
people of England. Public opinion declared in favour of 
Wickliffe. "If he is guilty," said they, "why is he not 
punished ? If he is innocent, why is he ordered to be silent ? 
If he is the weakest in power, he is the strongest in truth !" 
And so indeed he was, and never had he spoken with such 
energy. He openly attacked the pretended apostolical chair, 
and declared that the two antipopes who sat at Rome and 
Avignon together made one antichrist. Being now in oppo- 
sition to the pope, Wickliffe was soon to confess that Christ 
alone was king of the church ; and that it is not possible for 
a man to be excommunicated, unless first and principally he 
be excommunicated by himself.* 

Rome could not close her ears. Wickliffe's enemies sent 
thither nineteen propositions which they ascribed to him, 
and in the month of June 1377, just as Richard II., son of 
the Black Prince, a child eleven years old, was ascending 
the throne, three letters from Gregory XI., addressed to the 
king, the archbishop of Canterbury, and the university of 
Oxford, denounced Wickliffe as a heretic, and called upon 
them to proceed against him as against a common thief. 
The archbishop issued the citation : the crown and the uni- 
versity were silent. 

On the appointed day, "Wickliffe, unaccompanied by either 
Lancaster or Percy, proceeded to the archiepiscopal chapel 
at Lambeth. " Men expected he should be devoured," says 
an historian ; "being brought into the lion's den."-}- But 
the burgesses had taken the prince's place. The assault of 
Rome had aroused the friends of liberty and truth in Eng- 
land. " The pope's briefs," said they, " ought to have no 
effect in the realm without the king's consent. Every man 
is master in his own house." 

The archbishop had scarcely opened the sitting, when Sir 
Louis Clifford entered the chapel, and forbade the court, on 
the part of the queen-mother, to proceed against the re- 

* Vaughan's Wickliffe, Appendix, vol. i. p. 434. 
t Fuller's Church Hist. cent. xiv. p. 137. 



MISSION OF THE POOR PRIESTS. 91 

former. The bishops were struck with a panic-fear ; " they 
bent their heads," says a Roman-catholic historian, " like a 
reed before the wind."* Wickliffe retired after handing in 
a protest. " In the first place," said he, " I resolve with my 
whole heart, and by the grace of God, to be a sincere Chris- 
tian ; and, while my life shall last, to profess and defend the 
law of Christ so far as I have power." -j- "Wickliffe's enemies 
attacked this protest, and one of them eagerly maintained 
that whatever the pope ordered should be looked upon as 
right. "What!" answered the reformer; "the pope may 
then exclude from the canon of the Scriptures any book that 
displeases him, and alter the Bible at pleasure?" Wickliffe 
thought that Rome, unsettling the grounds of infallibility, 
had transferred it from the Scriptures to the pope, and was 
desirous of restoring it to its true place, and re-establishing 
authority in the church on a truly divine foundation. 

A great change was now taking place in the reformer. 
Busying himself less about the kingdom of England, he 
occupied himself more about the kingdom of Christ. In him 
the political phasis was followed by the religious. To carry 
the glad tidings of the gospel into the remotest hamlets, 
was now the great idea which possessed Wickliffe. If 
begging friars (said he| stroll over the country, preaching 
the legends of saints and the history of the Trojan war, we 
must do for God's glory what they do to fill their wallets, 
and form a vast itinerant evangelization to convert souls to 
Jesus Christ. Turning to the most pious of his disciples, 
he said to them : " Go and preach, it is the sublimest work ; 
but imitate not the priests whom we see after the sermon 
sitting in the alehouses, or at the gaming-table, or wasting 
their time in hunting. After your sermon is ended, do you 
visit the sick, the aged, the poor, the blind, and the lame, 
and succour them according to your ability." Such was the 
new practical theology which Wickliffe inaugurated it was 
that of Christ himself. 

* Walsingham, Hist. Anglioe Major, p. 203. 

f 1 Propono et rolo ease ex integro Christianus, et quamdiu manscrit in 
me halitus, profitens Yerbo et opere legem Christ!. Vaughan's Wickliffe, 
i. D. 426. 



92 PREACHING AND PERSECUTION. 

The " poor priests," as they were called, set off barefoot, a 
staff in their hands, clothed in a coarse robe, living on alms, 
and satisfied with the plainest food. They stopped in the 
fields near some village, in the churchyards, in the market- 
places of the towns, and sometimes in the churches even.* 
The people, among whom they were favourites, thronged 
around them, as the men of Northumbria had done at 
Aidan's preaching. They spoke with a popular eloquence 
that entirely won over those who listened to them. Of these 
missionaries none was more beloved than John Ashton. 
He might be seen wandering over the country in every 
direction, or seated at some cottage hearth, or alone in some 
retired crossway, preaching to an attentive crowd. Missions 
of this kind have constantly revived in England at the great 
epochs of the church. 

The " poor priests" were not content with mere polemics : 
they preached the great mystery of godliness. " An angel 
could have made no propitiation for man," one day exclaimed 
their master Wickliffe ; " for the nature which has sinned is 
not that of the angels. The mediator must needs be a man ; 
but every man being indebted to God for everything that he 
is able to do, this man must needs have infinite merit, and 
be at the same time God."-j- % 

The clergy became alarmed, and a law was passed com- 
manding every king's officer to commit the preachers and their 
followers to prison.^ In consequence of this, as soon as the 
humble missionary began to preach, the monks set them- 
selves in motion. They watched him from the windows of 
their cells, at the street-corners, or from behind a hedge, and 
then hastened off to procure assistance. But when the 
constables approached, a body of stout bold men stood forth, 
with arms in their hands, who surrounded the preacher, and 
zealously protected him against the attacks of the clergy. 
Carnal weapons were thus mingled with the preachings of 
the word of peace. The poor priests returned to their mas- 
ter : Wickliffe comforted them, advised with them, and then 

* A private statute made by the clergy. Foxe, Acts, i. p. 503. 
f Exposition of the Decalogue. 
J Foxe, Acts, i. p. 503. 



WICKLIFFE AND THE FOUR REGENTS. 93 

they departed once more. Every day this evangelization 
reached some new spot, and the light was thus penetrating 
into every quarter of England, when the reformer was sud- 
denly stopped in his work. 

Wickliffe was at Oxford in the year 1379, busied in the 
discharge of his duties as professor of divinity, when he fell 
dangerously ill. His was not a strong constitution ; and 
work, age, and, above all, persecution had weakened him. 
Great was the joy in the monasteries ; but for that joy to be 
complete, the heretic must recant. Every effort was made 
to bring this about in his last moments. 

The four regents, who represented the four religious orders, 
accompanied by four aldermen, hastened to the bedside of 
the dying man, hoping to frighten him by threatening him 
with the vengeance of Heaven. They found him calm and 
serene. " You have death on your lips," said they ; " be 
touched by your faults, and retract in our presence all that 
you have said to our injury." Wickliffe remained silent, 
and the monks flattered themselves with an easy victory. 
But the nearer the reformer approached eternity, the greater 
was his horror of monkery. The consolation he had found 
in Jesus Christ had given him fresh energy. He begged 
his servant to raise him on his couch. Then, feeble and 
pale, and scarcely able to support himself, he turned to- 
wards the friars, who were waiting for his recantation, and 
opening his livid lips, and fixing on them a piercing look, he 
said with emphasis : " I shall not die, but live ; and again 
declare the evil deeds of the friars." We might almost pic- 
ture to ourselves the spirit of Elijah threatening the priests 
of Baal. The regents and their companions looked at each 
other with astonishment. They left the room in confusion, 
and the reformer recovered to put the finishing touch to the 
most important of his works against the monks and against 
the pope.* 

* Petrie's Church History, i. p. 604. 



94 THE BIBLE. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The Bible Wickliffe's Translation Effects of its Publication Opposi- 
tion of the Clergy Wickliffe's Fourth Phasis Transubstantiation 
Excommunication Wickliffe's Firmness Wat Tyler The Synod 
The Condemned Propositions Wickliffe's Petition Wickliffe before 
the Primate at Oxford Wickliffe summoned to Rome His Answer 
The Trialogue His Death And Character His Teaching His Ec- 
clesiastical Views A Prophecy. 

WICKLIFFE'S ministry had followed a progressive course. 
At first he had attacked the papacy ; next he preached the 
gospel to the poor ; he could take one more step and put the 
people in permanent possession of the word of God. This 
was the third phase of his activity. 

Scholasticism had banished the Scriptures into a myste- 
rious obscurity. It is true that Bede had translated the 
Gospel of St John ; that the learned men at Alfred's court 
had translated the four evangelists ; that Elfric in the reign 
of Ethelred had translated some books of the Old Testament; 
that an Anglo-Norman priest had paraphrased the Gospels 
and the Acts ; that Richard Rolle, " the hermit of Ham- 
pole," and some pious clerks fn the fourteenth century, had 
produced a version of the Psalms, the Gospels, and Epistles : 
but these rare volumes were hidden, like theological cu- 
riosities, in the libraries of a few convents. It was then a 
maxim that the reading of the Bible was injurious to the 
laity ; and accordingly the priests forbade .it, just as the 
Brahmins forbid the Shasters to the Hindoos. Oral tradi- 
tion alone preserved among the people the histories of the 
Holy Scriptures, mingled with legends of the saints. The 
time appeared ripe for the publication of a Bible. The in- 
crease of population, the attention the English were be- 
ginning to devote to their own language, the development 
which the system of representative government had received, 
the awakening of the human mind all these circumstances 
favoured the reformer's design. 



WICKL1FFE TRANSLATES THE BIBLE. 95 

Wickliffe was ignorant indeed of Greek and Hebrew ; but 
was it nothing to shake off the dust which for ages had 
covered the Latin Bible, and to translate it in-to English ? 
He was a good Latin scholar, of sound understanding, and 
great penetration ; but above all he loved the Bible, he un- 
derstood it, and desired to communicate this treasure to 
others. Let us imagine him in his quiet study: on his 
table is the Vulgate text, corrected after the best manu- 
scripts ; and lying open around him are the commentaries 
of the doctors of the church, especially those of St Jerome 
and Nicholas Lyrensis. Between ten and fifteen years he 
steadily prosecuted his task; learned men aided him with 
their advice, and one of them, Nicholas Hereford, appears 
to have translated a few chapters for him. At last in 1380 
it was completed. This was a great event in the religious 
history of England, who, outstripping the nations on the 
continent, took her station in the foremost rank in the great 
work of disseminating the Scriptures. 

As soon as the translation was finished, the labour of the 
copyists began, and the Bible was erelong widely circulated 
either wholly or in portions. The reception of the work 
surpassed Wickliffe's expectations. The Holy Scriptures 
exercised a reviving influence over men's hearts ; minds 
were enlightened ; souls were converted ; the voices of the 
" poor priests " had done little in comparison with this voice; 
something new had entered into the world. Citizens, sol- 
diers, and the lower classes welcomed this new era with 
acclamations ; the high-born curiously examined the un- 
known book ; and even Anne of Luxemburg, wife of Richard 
II., having learnt English, began to read the Gospels dili- 
gently. She did more than this : she made them known to 
Arundel, archbishop of York and chancellor, and afterwards 
a persecutor, but who now, struck at the sight of a foreign 
lady of a queen, humbly devoting her leisure to the study 
of such virtuous books* commenced reading them himself, 
and rebuked the prelates who neglected this holy pursuit. 
" You could not meet two persons on the highway," says a 

* Foxe, Acta, i. p. 578. 



96 OPPOSITION OP THE CLERGY. 

contemporary writer, " but one of them was "Wickliffe's dis- 
ciple." 

Yet all in England did not equally rejoice : the lower 
clergy opposed this enthusiasm with complaints and male- 
dictions. " Master John Wickliffe, by translating the gos- 
pel into English," said the monks, " has rendered it more 
acceptable and more intelligible to laymen and even to 
women, than it had hitherto been to learned and intelli- 
gent clerks ! The gospel pearl is everywhere cast out and 

trodden under foot of swine." * New contests arose for the 
reformer. Wherever he bent his steps he was violently 
attacked. " It is heresy," cried the monks, " to speak oi 
Holy Scripture in English." -{ " Since the church has ap- 
proved of the four Gospels, she would have been just as able 
to reject them and admit others ! The church sanctions and 

condemns what she pleases Learn to believe in the church 

rather than in the gospel." These clamours did not alarm 
Wickliffe. " Many nations have had the Bible in their own 
language. The Bible is the faith of the church. Though the 
pope and all his clerks should disappear from the face of 
the earth," said he, " our faith would not fail, for it is 
founded on Jesus alone, our Master and our God." But 
Wickliffe did not stand alone : in the palace as in the cot- 
tage, and even in parliament, the rights of Holy Scripture 
found defenders. A motion having been made in the Upper 
House (1390) to seize all the copies of the Bible, the Duke 
of Lancaster exclaimed : " Are we then the very dregs of 
humanity, that we cannot possess the laws of our religion 
in our own tongue ?"{ 

Having given his fellow-countrymen the Bible, Wickliffe 
began to reflect on its contents. This was a new step in his 
onward path. There comes a moment when the Christian, 
saved by a lively faith, feels the need of giving an account 
to himself of this faith, and this originates the science of 

* Evangelica margarita spargitur et a porois conculcatur. Knyghton, 
De eventibus Angliae, p. 264. 

f It is heresy to speak of the Holy Scripture in English. Wickliffo's 
Wicket, p. 4. Oxford, 1612, quarto. 

J Weber, Akatholische Kirchen, i. p. 81, 



FOURTH PHASE OF WICKLIFFE. 97 

theology. This is a natural movement : if the child, who at 
first possesses sensations and affections only, feels the want, 
as he grows up, of reflection and knowledge, why should it 
not be the same with the Christian? Politics home mis- 
sions Holy Scripture had engaged Wickliffe in succes- 
sion ; theology had its turn, and this was the fourth phase ot 
his life. Yet he did not penetrate to the same degree as the 
men of the sixteenth century into the depths of the Christian 
doctrine ; and he attached himself in a more especial manner 
to those ecclesiastical dogmas which were more closely con- 
nected with the presumptuous hierarchy and the simoniacal 
gains of Rome, such as transubstantiation. The Anglo- 
Saxon church had not professed this doctrine. " The host 
is the body of Christ, not bodily but spiritually ," said Elfric 
in the tenth century, in a letter addressed to the Archbishop of 
York ; but Lanfranc, the opponent of Berengarius, had taught 
England that at the word of a priest God quitted heaven and 
descended oa the altar. Wickliffe undertook to overthrow 
the pedestal on which the pride of the priesthood was 
founded. " The eucharist is naturally bread and wine," he 
taught at Oxford in 1381; "but by virtue of the sacra- 
mental words it contains in every part the real body and 
blood of Christ." He did not stop here. " The consecrated 
wafer which we see on the altar," said he, " is not Christ, 
nor any part of him, but his efficient sign."* He oscillated 
between those two shades of. doctrine; but to the first he 
more habitually attached himself. He denied the sacrifice 
of the mass offered by the priest, because it was substituted 
for the sacrifice of the cross offered up by Jesus Christ ; and 
rejected transubstantiation, because it nullified the spiritual 
mid living presence of the Lord. 

When Wickliffe's enemies heard these propositions, they 
appeared horror-stricken, and yet in secret they were de- 
lighted at the prospect of destroying him. They met 
together, examined twelve theses he had published, and pro- 
nounced against him suspension from all teaching, imprison- 
ment, and the greater excommunication. At the same time 

* Efficax cjus signum. Conclusio 1 Vaughan, ii. p. 436, App. 
5* j, 



98 WICKLIFFE'S FIRMNESS. 

his friends became alarmed, their zeal cooled, and many of 
them forsook him. The Duke of Lancaster, in particular, 
could not follow him into this new sphere. That prince had 
no objection to an ecclesiastical opposition which might aid 
the political power, and for that purpose he had tried to en- 
list the reformer's talents and courage ; but he feared a dog- 
matic opposition that might compromise him. The sky was 
heavy with clouds ; "Wickliffe was alone. 

The storm soon burst upon him. One day, while seated 
in his doctoral chair in the Augustine school, and calmly ex- 
plaining the nature of the eucharist, an officer entered the 
hall, and read the sentence of condemnation. It was the 
design of his enemies to humble the professor in the eyes of 
his disciples. Lancaster immediately became alarmed, and 
hastening to his old friend begged him ordered him even - 
to trouble himself no more about this matter. Attacked 
on every side, "Wickliffe for a time remained silent. Shall 
he sacrifice the truth to save his reputation his repose 
perhaps his life ? Shall expediency get the better of faith, 
Lancaster prevail over Wicklitfe ? No : his courage was 
invincible. " Since the year of our Lord 1000," said he, 
" all the doctors have been in error about the sacrament of 
the altar except, perhaps, it may be Berengarius. How 
canst tliou, priest, who art but a man, make thy Maker ? 
What ! the thing that groweth in the fields that ear which 

thou pluckest to-day, shall be God to-morrow! As you 

cannot make the works which He made, how shall ye make 
Him who made the works?* Woe to the adulterous gene- 
ration that believeth the testimony of Innocent rather than 
of the Gospel."f Wickliffe called upon his adversaries to 
refute the opinions they had condemned, and finding that 
they threatened him with a civil penalty (imprisonment), he 
appealed to the king. 

The time was not favourable for such an appeal. A fatal 
circumstance increased Wickliffe's danger. Wat Tyler and 
a dissolute priest named Ball, taking advantage of the ill- 

Wycleff's Wyckett, Tracts, pp. 27C, 279. 

f Vac generation! adulterse quso plus credit testimonio Innocentii quam 
ieusui Evangelii. Confessio, Vaughanj ii. 453, A pp.. 



. THE SYNOD CONDEMNED PROPOSITIONS. 99 

will excited by the rapacity and brutality of the royal tax- 
gatherers, had occupied London with 100,000 men. John 
Ball kept up the spirits of the insurgents, not by expositions 
of the gospel, like Wickliffe's poor priests, but by fiery com- 
ments on the distich they had chosen for their device : 

When Adam delved and Ere span, 
Who was then the gentleman ! 

There were many who felt no scruple in ascribing these dis- 
orders to the reformer, who was quite innocent of them ; and 
Courtenay, bishop of London, having been translated to the 
see of Canterbury, lost no time in convoking a synod to pro- 
nounce on this matter of Wickliffe's. They met in the 
middle of May, about two o'clock in the afternoon, and were 
proceeding to pronounce sentence when an earthquake, 
which shook the city of London and all Britain, so alarmed 
the members of the council that they unanimously demanded 
the adjournment of a decision which appeared so manifestly 
rebuked by God. But the archbishop skilfully turned this 
strange phenomenon to his own purposes : " Know you not," 
said he, " that the noxious vapours which catch fire in the 
bosom of the earth, and give rise to these phenomena 
which alarm you, lose all their force when they burst forth ? 
Well, in like manner, by rejecting the wicked from our com- 
munity, we shall put an end to the convulsions of the 
church." The bishops regained their courage ; and one of 
the primate's officers read ten propositions, said to be Wick- 
liffe's, but ascribing to him certain errors of which he was 
quite innocent. The following most excited the anger of the 
priests : " God must obey the devil.* After Urban VI. we 
must receive no one as pope, but live according to the 
manner of the Greeks." The ten propositions were con- 
demned as heretical, and the archbishop enjoined all persons 
to shun, as they would a venomous serpent, all who should 
preach the aforesaid errors. " If we permit this heretic to 
appeal continually to the passions of the people," said the 

* Quod Deus debet obedire diabolo. Mansi, xxvi. p. 695. Wickliflb 
denied having written or spoken the sentiment here ascribed to him. 



100 WICKLIFFE'S PETITION. 

primate to the king, "our destruction is inevitable. We 
must silence these lollards these psalm-singers."* The 
king gave authority " to confine in the prisons of the state 
any who should maintain the condemned propositions. 1 ' 

Day by day the circle contracted around Wickliffe. The 
prudent Repingdon, the learned Hereford, and even the elo- 
quent Ashton, the firmest of the three, departed from him. 
The veteran champion of the truth which had once gathered 
a whole nation round it, had reached the days when " strong 
men shall bow themselves," and now, when harassed by 
persecution, he found himself alone. But boldly he uplifted 
his hoary head and exclaimed : " The doctrine of the gospel 
shall never perish; and if the earth once quaked, it was 
because they condemned Jesus Christ." 

He did not stop here. In proportion as his physical 
strength decreased, his moral strength increased. Instead 
of parrying the blows aimed at him, he resolved on dealing 
more terrible ones still. He knew that if the king and the 
nobility were for the priests, the lower house and the citizens 
were for liberty and truth. He therefore presented a bold 
petition to the Commons in the month of November 1382. 
"Since Jesus Christ shed his blood to free his church, ) 
demand its freedom. I demand that every one may leave 
those gloomy walls [the convents], within which a tyran- 
nical law prevails, and embrace a simple and peaceful life 
under the open vault of heaven. I demand that the pool 
inhabitants of our towns and villages be not constrained U 
furnish a worldly priest, often a vicious man and a heretic, 
with the means of satisfying his ostentation, his gluttony, 
and his licentiousness of buying a showy horse, costly 
saddles, bridles with tinkling bells, rich garments, and soft 
furs, while they see their wives, children, and neighbours, 
dying of hunger."-}- The House of Commons, recollecting 
that they had not given their consent to the persecuting 
statute drawn up by the clergy and approved by the king 



* From Mien to sing ; as beggards (beggars) from beggen. ^ 

+ A complaint of John Wycleff. Tracts and Treatises edited by the 
Wlokliffe Society, p. 263, 



WICKLIFFE BEFORE THE PRIMATE. 101 

and the lords, demanded its repeal. Was the Reformation 
about to begin by the will of the people ? 

Courtenay, indignant at this intervention of the Commons, 
and ever stimulated by a zeal for his church, which would 
have been better directed towards the word of God, visited 
Oxford in November 1382, and having gathered round him 
a number of bishops, doctors, priests, students, and laymen, 
summoned Wickliffe before him. Forty years ago the re- 
former had come up to the university : Oxford had become 
his home and now it was turning against him 1 "Weak- 
ened by labours, by trials, by that ardent soul which preyed 
upon his feeble body, he might have refused to appear. 
But Wickliffe, who never feared the face of man, came be- 
fore them with a good conscience. We may conjecture that 
there were among the crowd some disciples who felt their 
hearts bum at the sight of their master; but no outward 
sign indicated their emotion. The solemn silence of a court 
of justice had succeeded the shouts of enthusiastic youths. 
Yet Wickliffe did not despair : he raised his venerable head, 
and turned to Courtenay with that confident look which had 
made the regents of Oxford shrink away. Growing wroth 
against the priests of Baal, he reproached them with dis- 
seminating error in order to sell their masses. Then he 
stopped, and uttered these simple aud energetic words: 
" The truth shall prevail ! " * Having thus spoken he pre- 
pared to leave the court : his enemies dared not say a word ; 
and, like his divine master at Nazareth, he passed through 
the midst of them, and no man ventured to stop him. He 
then withdrew to his cure at Lutterworth. 

He had not yet reached the harbour. He was living 
peacefully among his books and his parishioners, and the 
priests seemed inclined to leave him alone, when another 
blow was aimed at him. A papal brief summoned him to 
Rome, to appear before that tribunal which had so often 
shed the blood of its adversaries. His bodily infirmities 
convinced him that he could not obey this summons. But 
if Wickliffe refused to hear Urban, Urban could not choose 
but hear Wickliffe. The church was at that time divided 
* Finaliter veritaa vincet eos. Vaughan, Appendix, ii. p. 453. 



102 WICKLUTE SUMMONED TO ROME, 

between two chiefs : France, Scotland, Savoy, Lorraine, 
Castile, and Aragon acknowledged Clement VII. ; while 
Italy, England, Germany, Sweden, Poland, and Hungary 
acknowledged Urban VI. Wickliffe shall tell us who is the 
true head of the church universal. And while the two 
popes were excommunicating and abusing each other, and 
selling heaven and earth for their own gain, the reformer 
was confessing that incorruptible Word, which establishes 
real unity in the church. " I believe," said he, " that the 
gospel of Christ is the whole body of God's law. I believe 
that Christ, who gave it to us, is very God and very man, 
and that this gospel revelation is, accordingly, superior to 
all oth*er parts of Holy Scripture.* I believe that the bishop 
of Rome is bound more than all other men to submit to it, 
for the greatness among Christ's disciples did not consist in 
worldly dignity or honours, but in the exact following of 
Christ in his life and manners. No faithful man ought to 
follow the pope, but in such points as he hath followed 
Jesus Christ. The pope ought to leave unto the secular 
power all temporal dominion and rule : and thereunto effec- 
tually more and more exhort his whole clergy If I could 

labour according to my desire in mine own person, I would 
surely present myself before the bishop of Rome, but the 
Lord hath otherwise- visited me to the contrary, and hath 
taught me rather to obey God than men."-{- 

Urban, who at that moment chanced to be very busied in 
his contest with Clement, did not think it prudent to begin 
another with Wickliffe, and so let the matter rest there. 
From this time the doctor passed the remainder of his days 
in peace in the company of three personages, two of whom 
were his particular friends, and the third his constant ad 
versary: these were Aletheia, Phronesis, and Pseudes. Al- 
etheia (truth) proposed questions ; Pseudes (falsehood) urged 

* This is the reading of the Bodleian manuscript" and be [by] this it 
passes all other laws." In Foxe, Wickliffe appears to ascribe to Christ 
himself this superiority over all Scripture, a distinction hardly in the 
mind of the reformer or of his age. 

f An Epistle of J. Wickliffe to Pope Urban VI. Foxe, Acts, i. p. 507, 
fol. Lond. 1684 ; also Lewis (Wickliffe), p. 333, Append. 



THE TRIALOGUE DEATH OP WICKLTFFE. 103 

objections; and Phronesis (understanding) laid down the 
sound doctrine. These three characters carried on a con- 
versation (trialogue) in which great truths were boldly pro- 
fessed. The opposition between the pope and Christ be- 
tween the canons of Romanism and the Bible was painted 
in striking colours. This is one of the primary truths which 
the church must never forget. "The church has fallen," 
said one of the interlocutors in the work in question, " be- 
cause she has abandoned the gospel, and preferred the laws 
of the pope. Although there should be a hundred popes in 
the world at once, and all the friars living should be trans- 
formed into cardinals, we must withhold our confidence 
unless so far as they are founded in Holy Scripture."* 

These words were the last flicker of the torch. Wickliffe 
looked upon his end as near, and entertained no idea that it 
would come in peace. A dungeon on one of the seven hills, 
or a burning pile in London, was all he expected. " Why 
do you talk of seeking the crown of martyrdom afar?" 
asked he. " Preach the gospel of Christ to haughty prelates, 
and martyrdom will not fail you. What ! I should live and 
be silent? never! Let the blow fall, I await its com- 

ing-"t 

The stroke was spared him. The war between two 
wicked priests, Urban and Clement, left the disciples of our 
Lord in peace. And besides, was it worth while cutting 
short a life that was drawing to a close ? Wickliffe, there- 
fore, continued tranquilly to preach Jesus Christ; and on 
the 29th December 1384, as he was in his church at Lutter- 
worth, in the midst of his flock, at the very moment that he 
stood before the altar, and was elevating the host with 
trembling hands, he fell upon the pavement struck with 
paralysis. He was carried to his house by the affectionate 
friends around him, and after lingering forty-eight hours 
resigned his soul to God on the last day of the year. 

Thus was removed from the church one of the boldest 

V * Ideo si essent centum papa?,^t omnes fratres essent versi in cardi- 
nales, non deberet concedi sententise suae in materia fidei, nisi de quanto 
so fundaverint in Scriptnra. Trialogus, lib. iv. cap. vii. 
f Vaughan's Life of Wickliffe, ii. p. 215, 257. 



104 WICKLIFFE'S CHARACTER. 

witnesses to the truth. The seriousness of his language, 
the holiness of his life, and the energy of his faith, had 
intimidated the popedom. Travellers relate that if a lion is 
met in the desert, it is sufficient to look steadily at him, and 
the beast turns away roaring from the eye of man. Wick- 
liffe had fixed the eye of a Christian on the papacy, and the 
affrighted papacy had left him in peace. Hunted down un- 
ceasingly while living, he died in quiet, at the very moment 
when by faith he was eating the flesh and drinking the 
blood which gave eternal life. A glorious end to a glorious 
life. 

The Reformation of England had begun. 

Wickliffe is the greatest English reformer he was in 
truth the first reformer of Christendom, and to him, under 
God, Britain is indebted for the honour of being the fore- 
most in the attack upon the theocratic system of Gregory 
VII. The work of the Waldenses, excellent as it was, can- 
not be compared to his. If Luther and Calvin are the 
fathers of the Reformation, Wickliffe is its grandfather. 

Wickliffe, like most great men, possessed qualities which 
are not generally found together. While his understanding 
was eminently speculative his treatise on the Reality of 
universal Ideas* made a sensation in philosophy he pos- 
sessed that practical and active mind which characterizes the 
Anglo-Saxon race. As a divine, he was at once scriptural 
and spiritual, soundly orthodox, and possessed of an inward 
and lively faith. With a boldness that impelled him to rush 
into the midst of danger, he combined a logical and consist- 
ent mind, which constantly led him forward in knowledge, 
and caused him to maintain with perseverance the truths he 
had once proclaimed. First of all, as a Christian, he had 
devoted his strength to the cause of the church; but he 
was at the same time a citizen, and the realm, his nation, 
and his king, had also a great share in his unwearied activity. 
He was a man complete. 

If the man is admirable, his teaching is no less so. Scrip- 
ture, which is the rule of truth,^hould be (according to his 
views) the rule of reformation, and we must reject every 
* Da universalibus realibus. 




WICKLIFFE'S TEACHING HIS ECCLESIASTICAL VIEWS. 105 

doctrine and every precept which does not rest on that 
foundation.* To believe in the power of man in the work 
of regeneration is the great heresy of Rome, and from that 
error has come the ruin of the church. Conversion proceeds 
from the grace of God alone, and the system which ascribes 
it partly to man and partly to God is worse than Pelagian- 
ism. -j- Christ is everything in Christianity; whosoever 
abandons that fountain which is ever ready to impart life, 
and turns to muddy and stagnant waters, is a madman. J 
Faith is a gift of God ; it puts aside all merit, and should 
banish all fear from the mind. The one thing needful in 
the Christian life and in the Lord's Supper js not a vain 
formalism and superstitious rites, but communion with 
Christ according to the power of the spiritual h'fe. || Let 
Christians submit not to the word of a priest but to the 
word of God. In the primitive church there were but two 
orders, the deacon and the priest : the presbyter and the 
bishop were one.^[ The sublimest calling which man can 
attain on earth is that of preaching the word of God. The 
true church is the assembly of the righteous for whom 
Christ shed his blood. So long as Christ is in heaven, in 
Him the church possesses the best pope. It is possible 
for a pope to be condemned at the last day because of his 
sins. Would men compel us to recognise as our head " a 
devil of hell?"** Such were the essential points of Wick- 
liffe's doctrine. It was the echo of the doctrine of the apostles 
the prelude to that of the reformers. 

In many respects Wickliffe is the Luther of England; 
but the times of revival had not yet come, and the English 

* Auctoritas Scripturse sacra, qua est lex Christ!, infinitum excedit 
quam libet scripturam aliam. Dialog. [Trialogus] lib. iii. cap. xxx. ; 
see in particular cap. xxxi. 

+ Ibid, de prsedestinatione, de peccato, de gratia, &c. 

t Ibid. lib. iii. cap. xxx. 

Fidem a Deo infusam sine aliqua trepidatione fidei coutraria. Ibid, 
lib. ni. cap. ii. 

y || Secundum rationem spiritualis et virtualis existentise. Ibid. lib. iv. 
cap. viii. 

U Fuit idem presbyter atque episcopns. Ibid. lib. iv. cap. XT. 

** Vaughan's Life of Wickliffe, ii. p. 307. The Christian public Is much 
Indebted to Dr Vanghan for his biography of this reformer. 

J 



106 A PROPHECY. 

reformer could not gain such striking victories over Rome 
as the German reformer. While Luther was surrounded by 
an ever-increasing number of scholars and princes, who con- 
fessed the same faith as himself, Wickliffe shone almost 
alone in the firmament of the church. The boldness with 
which he substituted a living spirituality for a superstitions 
formalism, caused those to shrink back in affright who had 
gone with him against friars, priests, and popes. Erelong 
the Roman pontiff ordered him to be thrown into prison, 
and the monks threatened his life;* but God protected 
him, and he remained calm amidst the machinations of 
his adversaries. " Antichrist," said he, " can only kill the 
body." Having one foot in the grave already, he foretold 
that, from the very bosom of monkery, would some day pro- 
ceed the regeneration of the church. " If the friars, whom 
God condescends to teach, shall be converted to the prim- 
itive religion of Christ," said he, " we shall see them aban- 
doning their unbelief, returning freely, 'with or without the 
permission of Antichrist, to the primitive religion of the 
Lord, and building up the church, as did St Paul."-j- 

Thus did Wickliffe's piercing glance discover, at the dis- 
tance of nearly a century and a half, the young monk 
Luther in the Augustine convent at Erfurth, converted by 
the epistle to the Romans, and returning to the spirit 
of St Paul and the religion of Jesus Christ. Time was 
hastening on to the fulfilment of this prophecy. " The 
rising sun of the Reformation," for so has Wickliffe been 
called, had appeared above the horizon, and its beams were 
no more to be extinguished. In vain will thick clouds veil 
it at times; the distant hill-tops of Eastern Europe will 
soon reflect its rays ; ^ and its piercing light, increasing in 
brightness, will pour over all the world, at the hour of the 
church's renovation, floods of knowledge and of life. 

* Multitude fratrum mortem tuam multipliciter machinantur. Dialog., 
lib. iv. cap. iv. 

t Aliqui fratres quos Deus docere dignatur relicta sua perfidia 

redibunt libere ad religionem Christi primaevam, et tune sedificabunt eo- 
lesiam, sicut Paulus. Ibid., lib. iv. cap. xxx. 

J John Husa in Bohemia. 



THE WICKLHTITES. 107 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Wickliffitea Call for Reform Richard II. The First Martyr- 
Lord Cobham Appears before Henry V. Before the Archbishop 
His Confession and Death The Lollards. 

WICKLIFFE'S death manifested the power of his teaching. 
The master being removed, his disciples set their hands to 
the plough, and England was almost won over to the re- 
former's doctrines. The Wickliffites recognised a ministry 
independent of Rome, and deriving authority from the word 
of God alone. " Every minister," said they, " can admini- 
ster the sacraments and confer the cure of souls as well as 
the pope." To the licentious wealth of the clergy they 
opposed a Christian poverty, and to the degenerate asceticism 
of the mendicant orders, a spiritual and free life. The 
townsfolk crowded around these humble preachers ; the sol- 
diers listened to them, armed with sword and buckler to 
defend them ;* the nobility took down the images from their 
baronial chapels ;f and even the royal family was partly 
won over to the Reformation. England was like a tree cut 
down to the ground, from whose roots fresh buds are shoot- 
ing out on every side, erelong to cover all the earth beneath 
their shade4 

This augmented the courage of "Wickliffe's disciples, and 
in many places the people took the initiative in the reform. 
The walls of St Paul's and other cathedrals were hung with 
placards aimed at the priests and friars, and the abuses of 
which they were the defenders; and in 1395 the friends of 

* Assistere solent gladio et pelta stipati ad eorum defensionem. Knygh- 
ton, lib. v. p. 2660. 

f Milites cum ducibus et comitibus erant prsecipue eis adhaerentes. 
Ibid. 

Quasi germinantes multiplicati sunt nimis et impleverunt ubique 
orbemregni. Ibid. These " ConclurioneJ' are reprinted by Lewi(Wick- 
liffc), p. 337. 



108 CALL FOE REFORM. 



the Gospel petitioned parliament for a general reform. " The 
essence of the worship which comes from Rome," said they, 
consists in signs and ceremonies, and not in the efficacity of 
the Holy Ghost ; and therefore it is not that which Christ 
has ordained. Temporal things are distinct from spiritual 
things : a king and a bishop ought not to be one and the 
same person." * And then, from not clearly understanding 
the principle of the separation of the functions which they 
proclaimed, they called upon parliament to " abolish celi- 
bacy, transubstantiation, prayers for the dead, offerings to 
images, auricular confession, war, the arts unnecessary to 
life, the practice of blessing oil, salt, wax, incense, stones, 
mitres, and pilgrims' staffs. All these pertain to necro- 
mancy and not to theology." Emboldened by the absence 
of the king in Ireland, they fixed their Twelve Conclusions 
on the gates of St Paul's and Westminster Abbey. This 
became the signal for persecution. 

As soon as Arundel, archbishop of York, and Braybrooke, 
bishop of London, had read these propositions, they hastily 
crossed St George's Channel, and conjured the king to return 
to England. The prince hesitated not to comply, for his 
wife, the pious Anne of Luxemburg, was dead. Richard, 
during childhood and youth, had been committed in succes- 
sion to the charge of several guardians, and like children 
(says an historian), whose nurses have been often changed, 
he thrived none the better for it. He did good or evil, 
according to the influence of those around him, and had no 
decided inclinations except for ostentation and licentious- 
ness. The clergy were not mistaken in calculating on such 
a prince. On his return to London he forbade the parlia- 
ment to take the Wickliffite petition into consideration ; and 
having summoned before him the most distinguished of its 
supporters, such as Story, Clifford, Latimer, and Montacute, 
he threatened them with death if they continued to defend 
their abominable opinions. Thus was the work of the re- 
former about to be destroyed. 

But Richard had hardly withdrawn his hand from the 
gospel, when God (says the annalist) withdrew his hand 

* Rex et episcopus in una persona, &c. Knyghton, lib. v. p. 2660. 



HENRY IV. THE FIRST MARTYR. 109 

from him.* His cousin, Henry of Hereford, son of the fa- 
mous duke of Lancaster, and who had been banished from 
England, suddenly sailed from the continent, landed in York- 
shire, gathered all the malcontents around him, and was ac- 
knowledged king. The unhappy Richard, after being for- 
mally deposed, was confined in Pontefract castle, where he 
soon terminated his earthly career. 

The son of Wickliffe's old defender was now king : a re- 
form of the church seemed imminent ; but the primate Amn- 
del had foreseen the danger. This cunning priest and skil- 
ful politician had observed which way the wind blew, and 
deserted Richard hi good time. Taking Lancaster by the 
hand, he put the crown on his head, saying to him : " To 
consolidate your throne, conciliate the clergy, and sacrifice 
the Lollards." " I will be the protector of the church," re- 
plied Henry IV., and from that hour the power of the priests 
was greater than the power of the nobility. Rome has ever 
been adroit in profiting by .revolutions. 

Lancaster, in his eagerness to show his gratitude to the 
priests, ordered that every incorrigible heretic should be 
burnt alive, to terrify his companions.f Practice followed 
close upon the theory. A pious priest named William Saw- 
tre had presumed to say : " Instead of adoring the cross on 
which Christ suffered, I adore Christ who suffered on it."J 
He was dragged to St Paul's ; his hair was shaved off; a 
layman's cap was placed on his head; and the primate 
handed him over to the mercy of the earl-marshal of England. 
This mercy was shown him he was burnt alive at Smith- 
field in the beginning of March 1401. Sawtre was the first 
martyr to protestantism. 

Encouraged by this act of faith this auto da /e the 
clergy drew up the articles known as the " Constitutions of 
Arundel," which forbade the reading of the Bible, and styled 
the pope, "not a mere man, but a true God." The L - 
lards' tower, in the archiepiscopal palace of Lambeth, was 

* Foxe, Acts, i. p. 584, fol. Lend. 1684. 

+ Ibid. p. 586. This is the statute known as 2 Henry IV. c. 15, the first 
actual law in England against heresy. 

J Ibid. p. 589. 

Not of pure man but of true God, hare in earth. Ibid. p. 596. 



110. PERSECUTION LORD COBHAM. 

soon filled with pretended heretics, many of whom carved 
on the walls of their dungeons the expression of their sor- 
row and their hopes : Jesus amor meus, wrote one of them.* 
To crush the lowly was not enough : the Gospel must be 
driven from the more exalted stations. The priests, who 
were sincere in their belief, regarded those noblemen as mis- 
leaders who set the word of God above the laws of Rome, 
and accordingly they girded themselves for the work. A few 
miles from Rochester stood Cowling Castle, in the midst 
of the fertile pastures watered by the Medway, 

The fair Medwaya that with wanton pride 
Forms silver mazes with her crooked tide.t 

In the beginning of the fifteenth century it was inhabited by 
Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, a man in high favour 
with the king. The " poor priests" thronged to Cowling in 
quest of Wickliffe's writings, of which Cobham had caused 
numerous copies to be made, and whence they were circu- 
lated through the dioceses of Canterbury, Rochester, Lon- 
don, and Hertford. Cobham attended their preaching, and 
if any enemies ventured to interrupt them, he threatened 
them with his sword.j: " I would sooner risk my life," said 
he, " than submit to such unjust decrees as dishonour the 
everlasting Testament." The king would not permit the 
clergy to lay hands on his favourite. 

But Henry V. having succeeded his father in 1413, and 
passed from the houses of ill-fame he had hitherto frequent- 
ed, to the foot of the altars and the head of the armies, the 
archbishop immediately denounced Cobham to him, and he 
was summoned to appear before the king. Sir John had 
understood Wickliffe's doctrine, and experienced in his own 
person the might of the divine Word. " As touching the 
pope and his spirituality," he said to the king, " I owe them 
neither suit nor service, forasmuch as I know him by the 

* " Jesus is my love." These words are still to be read in the tower. 

f Blackmore. 

i Eorum prsedicationibus nefariis interfuit, et contradictores, si quos 
repererat, minis et terroribus et gladii secularis potentia compescuit. 
Rymer, Fcedera, torn. iv. pars 2, p. 50. 



COBHAM BEFORE THE ARCHBISHOP. Ill 

Scriptures to be the great antichrist."* Henry thrust aside 
Cobham's hand as he presented his confession of faith : " I 
will not receive this paper, lay it before your judges." When 
he saw his profession refused, Cobham had recourse to the 
only arm which he knew of out of the gospel. The differences 
which we now settle by pamphlets were then very com- 
monly settled by the sword : " I offer in defence of my 
faith to fight pr life or death with any man living, Christian 
or pagan, always excepting your majesty." f Cobham was 
led to the Tower. 

On the 23d September 1413, he was taken before the 
ecclesiastical tribunal then sitting at St Paul's. " We must 
believe," said the primate to him, " what the holy church of 
Rome teaches, without demanding Christ's authority." 
"Believe!" shouted the priests, "believe!" "I am willing 
to believe all that God desires," said Sir John ; " but that 
the pope should have authority to teach what is contrary to 
Scripture that I can never believe." He was led back to 
the Tower. The word of God was to have its martyr. 

On Monday, 25th September, a crowd of priests, canons, 
friars, clerks, and indulgence-sellers, thronged the large hall 
of the Dominican convent, and attacked Lord Cobham with 
abusive language. These insults, the importance of the 
moment for the Reformation of England, the catastrophe 
that must needs close the scene : all agitated his soul to its 
very depths. When the archbishop called upon him to 
confess his offence, he fell on his knees, and lifting up his 
hands to heaven, exclaimed : " I confess to Thee, God ! 
and acknowledge that in my frail youth I seriously offended 
Thee by my pride, anger, intemperance, and impurity : for 
these offences I implore thy mercy!" Then standing up, 
his face still wet with tears, he said : " I ask not your abso- 
lution : it is God's only that I need."J The clergy did not 
despair, however, of reducing this high-spirited gentleman : 
they knew that spiritual strength is not always conjoined 
with bodily vigour, and they hoped to vanquish by priestly 

* Foxe, Acts, rol. i. p. 636, fol. f Ibid. p. 637. 

J Quod nullam absolutionem iu hac parte peterot a nobis, sed a solo 
Deo. Rymer, Fcedera, p. 51. 



112 LORD COBHAM'S DEATH. 

sophisms the man who dared challenge the papal champions 
to single combat. " Sir John," said the primate at last, 
" you have said some very strange things : we have spent 
much time in endeavours to convince you, but all to no 
effect. The day passeth away : you must either submit 

yourself to the ordinance of the most holy church " " I 

will none otherwise believe than what I have told you. Do 
with me what you will." " "Well then, we must needs do 
the law," the archbishop made answer. 

Arundel stood up; all the priests and people rose with 
him and uncovered their heads. Then holding the sentence 
of death in his hand, he read it with a loud clear voice. " It 
is well," said Sir John ; " though you condemn my body, 
you can do no harm to my soul, by the grace of my eternal 
God." He was again led back to the Tower, whence he 
escaped one night, and took refuge in Wales. He was re- 
taken in December 1417, carried to London, dragged on a 
hurdle to Saint Giles's fields, and there suspended by chains 
over a slow fire, and cruelly burned to death. Thus died a 
Christian, illustrious after" the fashion of his age a cham- 
pion of the word of God. The London prisons were filled 
with Wickliffites, and it was decreed that they should be 
hung on the king's account, and burnt for God's.* 

The intimidated Lollards were compelled to hide them- 
selves in the humblest ranks of the people, and to hold their 
meetings in secret. The work of redemption was proceed- 
ing noiselessly among the elect of God. Of these Lollards, 
there were many who had been redeemed by Jesus Christ ; 
but in general they knew not, to the same extent as the 
evangelical Christians of the sixteenth century, the quick- 
ening and justifying power of faith. They were plain, 
meek, and often timid folks, attracted by the word of God, 
affected at the condemnation it pronounces against the errors 
of Rome, and desirous of living according to its command- 
ments. God had assigned them a part and an important 
part too in the great transformation of Christianity. Their 
humble piety, their passive resistance, the shameful treat- 

* Incendio propter Deum, suspendio propter regem. Thorn. Walden- 
sis in proemio. Raynald, ann. 1414. No 16. 



LEARNING AT FLORENCE. 113 

ment which they bore with resignation, the penitent's robes 
with which they were covered, the tapers they were com- 
pelled to hold at the church-door all these things betrayed 
the pride of the priests, and filled the most generous minds 
with doubts and vague desires. By a baptism of suffering, 
God was then preparing the way to a glorious reformation. 



CHAPTER X. 

Learning at Florence The Tudors Erasmus visits England Sir 
Thomas More Dean Colet Erasmus and young Henry Prince 
Arthur and Catherine Marriage and Death Catherine betrothed to 
Henry Accession of Henry VIII. Enthusiasm of the Learned 
Erasmus recalled to England Cromwell before the Pope Catherine 
proposed to Henry Their Marriage and Court Tournaments 
Henry's Danger. 

THIS reformation was to be the result of two distinct forces 
the revival of learning and the resurrection of the word 
of God. The latter was the principal cause, but the former 
was necessary as a means. Without it the living waters ot 
the gospel would probably have traversed the age, like 
summer streams which soon dry up, such as those which 
had burst forth "here and there during the middle ages ; it 
would not have become that majestic river, which, by its 
inundations, fertilized all the earth. It was necessary to 
discover and examine the original fountains, and for this end 
the study of Greek and Hebrew was indispensable. Lol- 
lardism and humanism (the study of the classics) were the 
two laboratories of the reform. We have seen the prepara- 
tions of the one, we must now trace the commencement of 
the other ; and as we have discovered the light in the lowly 
valleys, we shall discern it also on the lofty mountain tops. 
About the end of the fifteenth century, several young 
Englishmen chanced to be at Florence, attracted thither by 

<he literary glory which environed the city of the Medici. 
VOL. v. 6 



114 A NEW DYNASTY THE TUDORS. 

Cosmo had collected together a great number of works of 
antiquity, and his palace was thronged with learned men. 
William Selling, a young English ecclesiastic, afterwards 
distinguished at Canterbury by his zeal in collecting valu- 
able manuscripts; his fellow-countrymen, Grocyn, Lilly, 
and Latimer "more bashful than a maiden;"* and, above 
all, Linacre, whom Erasmus ranked before all the scholars 
of Italy, used to meet in the delicious villa of the Medici 
with Politian, Chalcondyles, and other men of learning ; and 
there, in the calm evenings of summer, under that glorious 
Tuscan sky, they dreamt romantic visions of the Platonic 
philosophy. When they returned to England, these learned 
men laid before the youth of Oxford the marvellous treasures 
of the Greek language. Some Italians even, attracted by 
the desire to enlighten the barbarians, and a little, it may 
be, by the brilliant offers made them, quitted their beloved 
country for the distant Britain. Cornelius Vitelli taught at 
Oxford, and Caius Amberino at Cambridge. Caxton imported 
the art of printing from Germany, and the nation hailed 
with enthusiasm the brilliant dawn which was breaking at 
last in their cloudy sky. 

While learning was reviving in England, a new dynasty 
succeeded to the throne, bringing with it that energy of 
character which of itself is able to effect great revolutions ; 
the Tudors succeeded the Plantagenets. That inflexible in- 
trepidity by which the reformers of Germany, Switzerland, 
France, and Scotland were distinguished, did not exist so 
generally in those of England ; but it was found in the char- 
acter of her kings, who often stretched it even to violence. 
It may be that to this preponderance of energy in its rulers, 
the church owes the preponderance of the state in its affairs. 

Henry Tudor, the Louis XL of England, was a clever 
prince, of decided but suspicious character, avaricious and 
narrow-minded. Being descended from a Welsh family, he 
belonged to that ancient race of Celts who had so long con- 
tended against the papacy. Henry had extinguished fac- 
tion at home, and taught foreign nations to respect his 
power. A good genius seemed to exercise a salutary influ- 
* Fudorem plus quam virgineum. Erasm. Ep. i. p. 525. 



ERASMUS IN ENGLAND. 115 

encc over his court as well as over himself : this was his 
mother, the countess of Richmond. From her closet, where 
she consecrated the first five hours of the day to reading, 
meditation, and prayer, she moved to another part of the 
palace to dress the wounds of some of the lowest mendi- 
cants ; thence she passed into the gay saloons, where she 
would converse with the scholars, whom she encouraged 
by her munificence. This noble lady's passion for study, of 
which her son inherited but little, was not without its influ- 
ence in her family. Arthur and Henry, the king's eldest 
sons, trembled in their father's presence ; but, captivated by 
the affection of their pious grandmother, they began to find 
a pleasure in the society of learned men. An important 
circumstance gave a new impulse to one of them. 

Among the countess's friends was Montjoy, who had 
known Erasmus at Paris, and heard his cutting sarcasms 
upon the schoolmen and friars. He invited the illustrious 
Dutchman to England, and Erasmus, who was fearful of 
catching the plague, gladly accepted the invitation, and set 
out for what he believed to be the kingdom of darkness. 
But he had not been long in England before he discovered 
unexpected light. 

Shortly after his arrival, happening to dine with the lord- 
mayor, Erasmus noticed on the other side of the table a 
young man of nineteen, slender, fresh-coloured, with blue 
eyes, coarse hands, and the right shoulder somewhat higher 
than the other. His features indicated affability and gaiety, 
and pleasant jests were continually dropping from his lips. 
If he could not find a joke in English, he would in French, 
and even in Latin or Greek. A literary contest soon en- 
sued between Erasmus and the English youth. The former, 
astonished at meeting with any one that could hold his own 
against him, exclaimed : Aut tu es Morus out nullus ! (you 
are either More or nobody) ; and his companion, who had 
not learnt the stranger's name, quickly replied : Ant tu es 
Erasmus out diabolus ! (you are either the devil or Eras- 
mus).* More flung himself into the arms of Erasmus, and 
they became inseparable friends. More was continually 
Life of More by his Great-grandson, (18-28), p. 90. 



116 MOUE AND COLET. 

joking, even with women, teasing the young maidens, and 
making fun of the dull, though without any tinge of ill- 
nature in his jests.* But under this sportive exterior he 
concealed a deep understanding. He was at that time lec- 
turing on Augustine's City of God before a numerous 
audience composed of priests and aged men. The thought 
of eternity had seized him ; and being ignorant of that in- 
ternal discipline of the Holy Ghost, which is the only true 
discipline, he had recourse to the scourge on every Friday. 
Thomas More is the ideal of the Catholicism of this period. 
He had, like the Romish system, two poles worldliness and 
asceticism ; which, although contrary, often meet together. 
In fact, asceticism makes a sacrifice of self, only to preserve 
it; just as a traveller attacked by robbers will readily give 
up a portion of his treasures to save the rest. This was the 
case with More, if we rightly understand his character. He 
sacrificed the accessories of his fallen nature to save that 
same nature. He submitted to fasts and vigils, wore a shirt 
of hair-cloth, mortified his body by small chains next his 
skin in a word, he immolated everything in order to 
preserve that self which a real regeneration alone can sac- 
rifice. 

From London Erasmus went to Oxford, where he met with 
John <sk)let, a friend of More's, but older, and of very dis- 
similar character. Colet, the scion of an ancient family, was 
a very portly man, of imposing aspect, great fortune, and ele- 
gance of manners, to which Erasmus had not been accus- 
tomed. Order, cleanliness, and decorum prevailed in his per- 
son and in his house. He kept an excellent table, which was 
open to all the friends of learning, and at which the Dutch- 
man, no great admirer of the colleges of Paris with their 
sour wine and stale eggs, was glad to take a seat, f He there 
met also most of the classical scholars of England, especially 
Grocyn, Linacre, Thomas Wolsey, bursar of Magdalene Col- 
lege, Halsey, and some others. " I cannot tell you how I am 

* Cum mulieribus fere atque etiara cum uxore nonnisi lusus jocosquo 
Iractat. Erasm. Ep. i. p. 536. 

+ Quantum ibi devorabatur ovorum putrium, quantum vini putris hau- 
riebatur. Erasm. Colloq. p. 5H4. 



A ROYAL SCHOOL-ROOM ERASMUS AND PRINCE EENRY. 117 

delighted with your England," he wrote to Lord Montjoy 
from Oxford. " With such men I could willingly live in the 
farthest coasts of Scythia."* 

But if Erasmus on the banks of the Thames found a 
Maecenas in Lord Montjoy, a Labeo and perhaps a Virgil in 
More, he nowhere found an Augustus. One day as he was 
expressing his regrets and his fears to More, the latter said : 
" Come, let us go to Eltham, perhaps we shall find there 
what you are looking for." They set out, More jesting all 
the way, inwardly resolving to expiate his gaiety by a severe 
scourging at night. On their arrival they were heartily wel- 
comed by Lord and Lady Montjoy, the governor and gover- 
ness of the king's children. As the two friends entered the 
hall, a pleasing and unexpected sight greeted Erasmus. The 
whole of the family were assembled, and they found them- 
selves surrounded not only by some of the royal household, 
but by the domestics of Lord Montjoy also. On the right 
stood the Princess Margaret, a girl of eleven years, whose 
great-grandson under the name of Stuart was to continue 
the Tudor line in England ; on the left was Mary, a child 
four years of age ; Edmund was in his nurse's arms ; and in 
the middle of the circle, between his two sisters, stood a boy, 
at that time only nine years old, whose handsome features, 
royal carriage, intelligent eye, and exquisite courtesy ,ad an 
extraordinary charm for Erasmus.-j- That boy was Henry, 
duke of York, the king's second son, born on the 28th 
June 1491. More, advancing towards the young prince, 
presented to him some piece of his own writing ; and from 
that hour Erasmus kept up a friendly intercourse with 
Henry, which in all probability exercised a certain influence 
over the destinies of England. The scholar of Rotterdam 
was delighted to see the prince excel in all the manly sports 
of the day. He sat his horse with perfect grace and rare 
intrepidity, could hurl a javelin farther than any of his com- 
panions, and having an excellent taste for music, he was 

* Dici non potest quam mihi dulcescat Anglia tna vel in extrema 

Scythia vivcro non recusem. Erasm. Ep. i. p. 311. 
t Erasm. Ep. ad Botzhcm. J or tin. Appendix, p. 10& 



118 AETHUR AND CATHERINE. 

already a performer on several instruments. The king took 
care that he should -receive a learned education, for he des- 
tined him to fill the see of Canterbury ; and the illustrious 
Erasmus, noticing his aptitude for everything he undertook, 
did his best to cut and polish this English diamond, that it 
might glitter with the greater brilliancy. " He will begin 
nothing that he will not finish," said the scholar. And it 
is but too true, that this prince always attained his end, 
even if it were necessary to tread on the bleeding bodies of 
those he had loved. Flattered by the attentions of the 
young Henry, attracted by his winning grace, charmed by 
his wit, Erasmus on his return to the continent every- 
where proclaimed that England at last had found its 
Octavius. 

As for Henry VII. he thought of everything but Virgil or 
Augustus. Avarice and ambition were his predominant 
tastes, which he gratified by the marriage of his eldest son 
in 1501. Burgundy, Artois, Provence, and Brittany having 
been recently united to France, the European powers felt the 
necessity of combining against that encroaching state. It 
was in consequence of this that Ferdinand of Aragon had 
given his daughter Joanna to Philip of Austria, and that 
Henry VII. asked the hand of his daughter Catherine, then 
in heineixteenth year and the richest princess in Europe, for 
Arthur prince of Wales, a youth about ten months younger. 
The catholic king made one condition to the marriage of his 
daughter. Warwick, the last of the Plantagenets and a pre- 
tender to the crown, was confined in the Tower. Ferdinand, 
to secure the certainty that Catherine would really ascend 
the English throne, required that the unhappy prince should 
be put to death. Nor did this alone satisfy the king of 
Spain. Henry VII., who was not a cruel man, might con- 
ceal Warwick, and say that he was no more. Ferdinand 
demanded that the chancellor of Castile should be present at 
the execution. The blood of Warwick was shed ; his head 
rolled duly on the scaffold ; the Castilian chancellor verified 
and registered the murder, and on the 14th November the 
marriage was solemnized at St Paul's. At midnight the 
prince and princess were conducted with great pomp to the 



DEATH OF PRINCE ARTHUK. 119 

bridal-chamber.* These were ill-omened nuptials fated 
to set the kings and nations of Christendom in battle against 
each other, and to serve as a pretext for the external and 
political discussions of the English Reformation. The 
marriage of Catherine the Catholic was a marriage of 
blood. 

In the early part of 1502, Prince Arthur fell ill, and on the 
2d of April he died. The necessary time was taken to be 
sure that Catherine had no hope of becoming a mother, after 
which the friend of Erasmus, the youthful Henry, was de- 
clared heir to the crown, to the great joy of all the learned. 
This prince did not forsake his studies : he spoke and wrote 
in French, German, and Spanish with the facility of a 
native; and England hoped to behold one day the most 
learned of Christian kings upon the throne of Alfred the 
Great. 

A very different question however, filled the mind of the 
covetous Henry VII. Must he restore to Spain the two 
hundred thousand ducats which formed Catherine's dowry ? 
Shall this rich heiress be permitted to marry some rival of 
England ? To prevent so great a misfortune the king con- 
ceived the project of uniting Henry to Arthur's widow. The 
most serious objections were urged against it. " It is not 
only inconsistent with propriety," said Warham, the primate, 
" but the will of God himself is against it. It is declared in 
His law that if a man shall take his brother's wife, it is an 
vnclean thing (Lev. xx. 21) ; and in the Gospel John Baptist 
says to Herod : It is not lawful for thee to have thy brothers 
icife" (Mark vi. 18.) Fox, bishop of Winchester, suggested 
that a dispensation might be procured from the pope, and in 
December 1503, Julius II. granted a bull declaring that for 
the sake of preserving union between the catholic princes he 
authorized Catherine's marriage with the brother of her first 
husband, accedente forsan copula camali. These four words 
it is said, were inserted in the bull at the express desire of 
the princess. All these details will be of importance in the 
course of our history. The two parties were betrothed, but 

* Principes summa nocte ad thalamum solemn! ritu deduct! soot 
Sandcrus, do schismate Angl. p. 2. 



120 PROCLAMATION OP HENRY VHI. 

not married in consideration of the youth of the prince of 
Wales. 

The second marriage projected by Henry VII. was ushered 
in with auspices still less promising than the first. The 
king having fallen sick and lost his queen, looked upon these 
visitations as a divine judgment.* The nation murmured, 
and demanded whether it was in the pope's power to permit 
what God had forbidden, f The young prince, being in- 
formed of his father's scruples and of the people's discontent, 
declared, just before attaining his majority (27th June 1505), 
in the presence of the bishop of Winchester and several royal 
counsellors, that he protested against the engagement entered 
into during his minority, and that he would never make 
Catherine his wife. 

His father's death, which made him free, made him also 
recall this virtuous decision. In 1509, the hopes of the 
learned seemed about to be realized. On the 9th of May, a 
hearse decorated with regal pomp, bearing on a rich pall of 
cloth of gold th x e mortal remains of Henry VIL, with his 
sceptre and his crown, entered London, followed by a long 
procession. The great officers of state, assembled round 
the coffin, broke their staves and cast them into the vault, 
and the heralds cried with a loud voice : " God send the 
noble King Henry VIII. long life."J Such a cry perhaps 
had never on any previous occasion been so joyfully repeated 
by the people. The young king gratified the wishes of the 
nation by ordering the arrest of Einpson and Dudley, who 
were charged with extortion ; and he conformed to the en- 
lightened counsels of his grandmother, by choosing the most 
able ministers, and placing the archbishop of Canterbury as 
lord-chancellor at their head. Warham was a man of great 
capacity. The day was not too short for him to hear mass, 
receive ambassadors, consult with the king in the royal 
closet, entertain as many as two hundred guests at his table, 
take his seat on the woolsack, and find time for his private de- 
motions. The joy of the learned surpassed that of the people 

* Morysin's Apomaxis. 

t Herbert. Life of Henry VIII. p. 18. 

J Leland's Collectanea, vol. iv. p. 309. 



ENTHUSIASM OF TUB LEAK NED. 121 

The old king wanted none of their praises or congratulations, 
for fear he should have to pay for them ; but now they could 
give free course to their enthusiasm. Montjoy pronounced 
the young king " divine ;" the Venetian ambassador likened 
his port to Apollo's, and his noble chest to the torso of Mars ; 
he was lauded both in Greek and Latin ; he was hailed as 
the founder of a new era, and Henry seemed desirous of 
meriting these eulogiums. Far from permitting himself to 
be intoxicated by so much adulation, he said to Montjoy : 
" Ah ! how I should like to be a scholar!"" Sire," replied 
the courtier, " it is enough that you show your regard for 
those who possess the learning you desire for yourself." 
" How can I do otherwise," he replied with earnestness ; 
"without them we hardly exist!" Montjoy immediately 
communicated this to Erasmus. 

Erasmus ! Erasmus ! the walls of Eltham, Oxford, and 
London resounded with the name. The king could not live 
without the learned ; nor the learned without Erasmus. This 
scholar, who was an enthusiast for the young king, was no* 
long in answering to the call. When Richard Pace, one of 
the most accomplished men of that age, met the learned 
Dutchman at Ferrara, the latter took from his pocket a little 
box which he always carried with him : " You don't know," 
he said, " what a treasure you have in England : I will just 
show you ;" and he took from the box a letter of Henry's 
expressing in Latin of considerable purity the tenderest re- 
gard for his correspondent.* Immediately after the corona- 
tion Montjoy "wrote to Erasmus : " Our Henry Octants, 
or rather Octavius, is on the throne. Come and behold the 
new star.-j- The heavens smile, the earth leaps for joy, and 
all is (lowing with milk, nectar, and honey, f Avarice has 
fled away, liberality has descended, scattering on every side 
with gracious hand her bounteous largesses. Our king de- 

* Scripsit ad me suapto manu litteras amantissimas. Erasra. vita 
ad Ep. 

+ Ut hoc novum sidus aspicias. Ibid. p. 277 : an expression of Virgil, 
speaking of the deified Augustus. 

* Ridet .ether, exultat terra, omnia la:tis, omnia mellis, omnia nec- 
taris 8unt plena. Ibid. 

6* 



122 POPE JULIUS II. 

sires not gold or precious stones, but virtue, glory, and im- 
mortality." 

In such glowing terms was the young king described by 
a man who had seen him closely. Erasmus could resist no 
longer : he bade the pope farewell, and hastened to London, 
where he met with a hearty welcome from Henry. Science 
and power embraced each other : England was about to 
have its Medici ; and the friends of learning no longer 
doubted of the regeneration of Britain. 

Julius II., who had permitted Erasmus to exchange the 
white frock of the monks for the black dress of the seculars,* 
allowed him to depart without much regret. This pontiff 
had little taste for letters, but was fond of war, hunting, and 
the pleasures of the table. The English sent him a dish 
to his taste in exchange for the scholar. Some time after 
Erasmus had left, as the pope was one day reposing from 
the fatigues of the chase, he heard voices near him singing 
a strange song. He asked with surprise what it meant, f 
" It is some Englishmen," was the answer, and three 
foreigners entered the room, each bearing a closely-covered 
jar, which the youngest presented on his knees. This was 
Thomas Cromwell, who appears here for the first time on 
the historic scene. He was the son of a blacksmith of 
Putney ; but he possessed a mind so penetrating, a judg- 
ment so sound, a heart so bold, ability so consummate, such 
easy elocution, such an accurate memory, such great activity, 
and so able a pen, that the most brilliant career was fore- 
boded him. At the age of twenty he left England, being 
desirous to see the world, and began life as a clerk in the 
English factory at Antwerp. Shortly after this two fellow- 
countrymen from Boston came to him in their embarrass- 
ment. " What do you want ? " he asked them. " Our 
townsmen have sent us to the pope," they told him, " to get 
the renewal of the greater and lesser pardons, whose term is 
nearly run, and which are necessary for the repair of our har- 
bour. But we do not know how to appear before him." 

* Vestem albam commutavit in nigram. Epp. ad Servat. 
f The pope suddenly marvelling %t the strangeness of the song. Foxe, 
Acts, v. p. 364, ed. Lond. 1838. 



CROMWELL AND THE POPE. 123 

Cromwell, prompt to undertake everything, an.l knowing a 
little Italian, replied, " I will go with you." Then slapping 
his forehead he muttered to himself: " What fish can I throw 
out as a bait to these greedy cormorants ? " A friend in- 
rormed him that the pope was very fond of dainties. Crom- 
well immediately ordered some exquisite jelly to be prepared, 
after the English fashion, and set out for Italy with his pro- 
visions and his two companions. 

This was the man who appeared before Julius after his 
return from the chase. "Kings and princes alone eat of 
this preserve in -England," said Cromwell to the pope. One 
cardinal, who was a greedier " cormorant " than his master, 
eagerly tasted the delicacy. " Try it," he exclaimed, and the 
pope, relishing this new confectionary, immediately signed 
the pardons, on condition however that the receipt for the 
Jelly should be left with him. " And thus were the jelly- 
pardons obtained," says the annalist. It was Cromwell's 
first exploit, and the man who began his busy career by pre- 
senting jars of confectionary to the pope was also the man 
destined to separate England from Rome. 

The court of the pontiff was not the only one in Europe 
devoted to gaiety. Hunting parties were as common in 
London as at Rome. The young king and his companions 
were at that time absorbed in balls, banquets, and the other 
festivities inseparable from a new reign. He recollected how- 
ever that he must give a queen to his people : Catherine of 
Aragon was still in England, and the council recommended 
her for his wife. He admired her piety without caring to 
imitate it;* he was pleased with her love for literature, and 
even felt some inclination towards her. -j- His advisers re- 
presented to him that " Catherine, daughter of the illustrious 
Isabella of Castile, was the image of her mother. Like her, 
she possessed that wisdom and greatness of mind which win 
the respect of nations ; and that if she carried to any of his 
rivals her marriage-portion and the Spanish alliance, the 
long-contested crown of England would soon fall from his 
head "We have the pope's dispensation : will you be more 

* Admirabatur quidem uxoris sanctitatem. Sanders, p. 5. 
t Ut amor plus apud regem posset. Morysin, Apom. p. 14. 



124 CATHERINE PROPOSEL TO E3NRY HENRY*S COURT. 

scrupulous than he is?"* The archbishop of Canterbury 
opposed in vain : Henry gave way, and on the eleventh of 
June, about seven weeks after his father's death, the nuptials 
were privately celebrated. On the twenty-third the king 
and queen went in state through the city, the bride wearing 
a white satin dress with her hair hanging down her back 
nearly to her feet. On the next day they were crowned at 
Westminster with great magnificence. 

Then followed a series of expensive entertainments. The 
treasures which the nobility had long concealed from fear of 
the old king, were now brought out ; the ladies glittered 
with gold and diamonds ; and the king and queen, whom the 
people never grew tired of admiring, amused themselves like 
children with the splendour of their royal robes. Henry 
VIII. was the forerunner of Louis XIV. Naturally inclined 
to pomp and pleasure, the idol of his people, a devoted ad- 
mirer of female beauty, and the husband of almost as many 
wives as Louis had adulterous mistresses, he made the court 
of England what the son of Anne of Austria made the court 
of France, one constant scene of amusements. He thought 
he could never get to the end of the riches amassed by his 
prudent father. His youth for he was only eighteen the 
gaiety of his disposition, the grace he displayed in all bodily 
exercises, the tales of chivalry in which he delighted, and 
which even the clergy recommended to their high-born 
hearers, the flattery of his courtiers -J- all these combined to 
set his young imagination in a ferment. Wherever he ap- 
peared, all were filled with admiration of his handsome coun- 
tenance and graceful figure : such is the portrait bequeathed 
to us by his greatest enemy. | "His brow was made to 
wear the crown, and his majestic port the kingly mantle," 
adds Noryson. 

Henry resolved to realize without delay the chivalrous 

* Herbert's Henry VIII., p. 7. Fuller's Church Hist. Book V. p. 165. 
Erasrn. Epp. ad Amerb. p. 19. 

f Tyndale, Obedience of a Christian Man (1528). 

J Eximia corporis forma prseditus, in qua etiam regiae majcstatis 
augusta qucedam specios elucebat. Sandems de Schism., p. 4. 

Tumor, Hist. Engl. i. p. '2. 



COURT AMUSEMENTS. 125 

combats and fabulous splendours of the heroes of the Round 
Table, as if to prepare himself for those more real struggles 
which he would one day have to maintain against the papacy. 
At the sound of the trumpet the youthful monarch would 
enter the lists, clad in costly armour, and wearing a plume 
that fell gracefully down to the saddle of his rigorous cour- 
ser; "like an untamed bull," says an historian, "which 
breaks away from its yoke and rushes into the arena." On 
one occasion, at the celebration of the queen's churching, 
Catherine with her ladies was seated in a tent of purple and 
gold, in the midst of an artificial forest, strewn with rocks 
and variegated with flowers. On a sudden a monk stepped 
forward, wearing a long brown robe, and kneeling before her, 
begged permission to run a course. It was granted, and 
rising up he threw aside his coarse frock, and appeared gor- 
geously armed for the tourney. He was Charles Brandon, 
afterwards duke of Suffolk, one of the handsomest and 
strongest men in the kingdom, and the first after Henry in 
military exercises. He was followed by a number of others 
dressed in black velvet, with wide-brimmed hats on their 
heads, staffs in their hands, and scarfs across their shoulders 
ornamented with cockle-shells, like pilgrims from St James 
of Compostella. These also threw off their disguise, and 
stood forth in complete armour. At their head was Sir 
Thomas Boleyn, whose daughter was fated to surpass in 
beauty, greatness, and misfortune, all the women of Eng- 
land. The tournament began. Henry, who has been com- 
pared to Amadis in boldness, to the lion-hearted Richard in 
courage, and to Edward III. in courtesy, did not always 
escape danger in these chivalrous contests. One day the 
king had forgotten to lower his vizor, and Brandon, his oppo- 
nent, setting off at full gallop, the spectators noticed the 
oversight, and cried out in alarm. But nothing could stop 
their horses : the two cavaliers met. Suffolk's lance was 
shivered against Henry, and the fragments struck him in 
the face. Every one thought the king was dead, and some 
were running to arrest Brandon, when Henry, recover- 
ing from the blow which had fallen on his helmet, re- 
commenced the combat, and ran six new courses amid the. 



126 THE POPE EXCITES TO WAR. 

admiring cries of his subjects. This intrepid courage changed 
as he grew older into unsparing cruelty ; and it was this 
young tiger, whose movements were then so graceful, that 
at no distant day tore with his bloody fangs the mother of 
his children. 



CHAPTER XL 

The Pope excites to War Colet's Sermon at St Paul's The Flemish 
Campaign Marriage of Louis XII. and Princess Mary Letter from 
Anne Boleyn Marriage of Brandon and Mary Oxford Sir Thomas 
More at Court Attack upon the Monasteries Colet's Household He 
preaches Reform The Greeks and Trojans. 

A MESSAGE from the pope stopped Henry in the midst of 
these amusements. In Scotland, Spain, France, and Italy, 
the young king had nothing but friends a harmony which 
the papacy was intent on disturbing. One day, immediately 
after high-mass had been celebrated, the archbishop of Can- 
terbury, on behalf of Julius II. laid at his feet a golden rose, 
which had been blessed by the pope, anointed with holy oil, 
and perfumed with musk.* It was accompanied by a letter 
saluting him as head of the Italian league. The warlike 
pontiff having reduced the Venetians, desired to humble 
France, and to employ Henry as the instrument of his 
vengeance. Henry, only a short time before, had renewed 
his alliance with Louis XII. ; but the pope was not to be 
baffled by such a trifle as that, and the young king soon 
began to dream of rivalling the glories of Crecy, Poitiers, 
and Agincourt. To no purpose did his wisest councillors 
represent to him that England, in the most favourable times, 
had never been able to hold her ground in France, and that 
the sea was the true field open to her conquests. Julius, 
knowing his vanity, had promised to deprive Louis of the 
title of Most Christian king, and confer it upon him. " His 

* Odorifiof musoo aspersam. Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. G52. 



DEAN COLET'S SERMON. 127 

holiness hopes that your Grace will utterly exterminate the 
king of France," wrote the king's agent.* Henry saw no- 
thing objectionable in this very unapostolic mission, and 
decided on substituting the terrible game of war for the 
gentler sports of peace. 

In the spring of 1511, after some unsuccessful attempts 
by his generals, Henry determined to invade France in per- 
son. He was in the midst of his preparations when the 
festival of Easter arrived. Dean Colet had been appointed 
to preach before Henry on Good Friday, and in the course 
of his sarmon he showed more courage than could have been 
expected in a scholar, for a spark of the Christian spirit was 
glowing in his bosom. He chose for the subject of his dis- 
course Christ's victory over death and the grave. " Who- 
ever takes up arms from ambition," said he, " fights not 
under the standard of Christ, but of Satan. If ypu desire to 
contend against your enemies, follow Jesus Christ as your 
prince and captain, rather than Caesar or Alexander." His 
hearers looked at each other with astonishment ; the friends 
of polite literature became alarmed ; and the priests, who 
were getting uneasy at the uprising of the human mind, 
hoped to profit by this opportunity of inflicting a deadly 
blow on their antagonists. There were among them men 
whose opinions we must condemn, while we cannot forbear 
respecting their zeal for what they believed to be the truth : of 
this number were Bricot, Fitzjames, and above all Standish. 
Their zeal, however, went a little too far on this occasion : 
they even talked of burning the dean.-J- After the sermon, 
Colet was informed that the king requested his attendance 
in the garden of the Franciscan monastery, and immediately 
the priests and monks crowded round the gate, hoping to see 
their adversary led forth as a criminal. " Let us be alone," 
said Henry ; " put on your cap, Master Dean, and we will 
take a walk. Cheer up," he continued, " you have nothing to 
fear. You have spoken admirably of Christian charity, and 
have almost reconciled me to the king of France ; yet, as 

* Letter of Cardinal Bembridge. Cotton MSS. Vitell. B. 2, p. 8. 
f Dr Colet was in trouble and should have been burnt. Latimer's 
Sermons. Parker edition, p. 440. 



128 A KOYAL CAMPAIGN. 

the contest is not one of choice, but of necessity, I must beg 
of you in some future sermon to explain this to my people. 
Unless you do so, I fear my soldiers may misunderstand 
your meaning." Colet was not a John Baptist, and, affected 
by the king's condescension, he gave the required explana- 
tion. The king was satisfied, and exclaimed : " Let every 
man have his doctor as he pleases ; this man is my doctor, 
and I will drink his health !" Henry was then young : very 
different was the fashion with which in after-years he treated 
those who opposed him. 

At heart the king cared little more about the victories of 
Alexander than of Jesus Christ. Having fitted out hi"s army, 
he embarked at the end of June, accompanied by his almoner, 
Wolsey, who was rising into favour, and set out for the war 
as if for a tournament. Shortly after this, he went, all glit- 
tering with jewels, to meet the Emperor Maximilian, who 
received him in a plain doublet and cloak of black serge. 
After his victory at the battle of Spurs, Henry, instead of 
pressing forward to the conquest of France, returned to the 
siege of Terouenne, wasted his time in jousts and entertain- 
ments, conferred on Wolsey the bishopric of Tournay which 
he had just captured, and then returned to England, delighted 
at having made so pleasant an excursion. 

Louis XII. was a widower in his 53d year, and bowed 
down by the infirmities of a premature old age ; but being 
desirous of preventing, at any cost, the renewal of the war, 
he sought the hand of Henry's sister, the Princess Mary, 
then in her 16th year. Her affections were already fixed 
on Charles Brandon, and for him she would have sacrificed 
the splendour of a throne. But reasons of state opposed 
their union. " The princess," remarked Wolsey, " will soon 
return to England a widow with a royal dowry." This 
decided the question. The disconsolate Mary, who was an 
object of universal pity, embarked at Dover with a numerous 
train, and from Boulogne, where she was received by the 
duke of Angouleme, she was conducted to the king, elated 
at the idea of marrying the handsomest princess in Europe. 

Among Mary's attendants was the youthful Anne Boleyn. 
Her father, Sir Thomas Boleyn, had been charged by Henry, 



LETTER FROM ANNE BOLEYN. 129 

conjointly with the bishop of Ely, with the diplomatic nego- 
tiations preliminary to this marriage. Anne had passed her 
childhood at Hever castle, surrounded by all that could heat 
the imagination. Her maternal grandfather, the earl of Sur- 
rey, whose eldest son had married the sister of Henry the 
Seventh's queen, had filled, as did his sons also, the most 
important offices of state. At the age probably of fourteen, 
when summoned by her father to court, she wrote him the 
following letter in French, which appears to refer to her 
departure for France : 
* 

" SIR, I find by your letter that you wish me to appeal 
at court in a manner becoming a respectable female, and 
likewise that the queen will condescend to enter into conver- 
sation with me ; at this I rejoice, as I do to think, that con- 
versing with so sensible and elegant a princess will make 
me even more desirous of continuing to speak and to write 
good French ; the more as it is by your earnest advice, which 
(I acquaint you by this present writing) I shall follow to the 
best of my ability. .....As to myself, rest assured that I shall 

not ungratefully look upon this fatherly office as one that 
might be dispensed with ; nor will it tend to diminish my 
affection, quest [wish], and deliberation to lead as holy a life 
as you may please to desire of me ; indeed my love for you 
is founded on so firm a basis that it can never be impaired. 
I put an end to this my lucubration after having very hum- 
bly craved your good will and affection. Written at Hever, 

by 

" Your very humble and obedient daughter, 

" ANNA DE BOULLAN."* 

Such were the feelings under which this young and in- 
teresting lady, so calumniated by papistical writers, appeared 
at court. 

The marriage was celebrated at Abbeville on the 9th of 

" The French original is preserved among Archbishop Parker's MSS. 
at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. The translation in the text is 
(with a slight variation) from Sir H. Ellis'a Collection of royal and other 
letters, vol. ii. second series. 

W* 



130 MARY MAKRIES BRANDON. 

Octobei 1514, and after a sumptuous banquet, the king of 
France distributed his royal largesses among the English 
lords, who were charmed by his courtesy. Bsrt the morrow 
was a day of trial to the young queen. Louis XII. had 
dismissed the numerous train which had accompanied her, 
and even Lady Guildford, to whom Henry had specially 
confided her. Three only were left, of whom the youthful 
Anne Boleyn was one. At this separation, Mary gave way 
to the keenest sorrow. To cheer her spirits, Louis pro- 
claimed a grand tournament. Brandon hastened to France 
at its first announcement, and carried off all the prizes ; 
while the king, languidly reclining on a couch, could with 
difficulty look upon the brilliant spectacle over which his 
queen presided, sick at heart yet radiant with youth and 
beauty. Mary was unable to conceal her emotion, and 
Louisa of Savoy, who was watching her, divined her secret. 
But Louis, if he experienced the tortures of jealousy, did 
not feel them long, for his death took place on the 1st 
January 1515. 

Even before her husband's funeral was over, Mary's heart 
beat high with hope. Francis I., impatient to see her 
wedded to some unimportant political personage, encouraged 
her love for Brandon. The latter, who had been commis- 
sioned by Henry to convey to her his letters of condolence, 
feared his master's anger if he should dare aspire to the 
hand of the princess. But the widowed queen, who was 
resolved to brave everything, told her lover : (< Either you 
marry me in four days or you see me no more." The choice 
the king had made of his ambassador announced that he 
would not behave very harshly. The marriage was cele- 
brated in the abbey of Clugny, and Henry pardoned them. 

While Mary returned to England, as Wolsey had pre- 
dicted, Anne Boleyn remained in France. Her father, de- 
siring his daughter to become an accomplished woman, 
intrusted her to the care of the virtuous Claude of France, 
the good queen, at whose court the daughters of the first 
families of the kingdom were trained. Margaret, duchess 
of Alenc,on, the sister of Francis, and afterwards queen of 
Navarre, often charmed the queen's circle by her lively con- 



OXFOBD SIR THOMAS MORE AT COURT. 131 

versation. She soon became deeply attached to the young 
Englishwoman, and on the death of Claude took her into her 
own family. Anne Boleyn was destined at no very remote 
period to be at the court of London a reflection of the grace- 
ful Margaret, and her relations with that princess were not 
without influence on the English lleformation. 

Arid indeed the literary movement which had passed from 
Italy into France appeared at that time as if it would cross 
from France into Britain. Oxford exercises over England 
as great an influence as the metropolis; and it is almost 
always within its walls that a movement commences whether 
for good or evil. At this period of our history, an enthusi- 
astic youth hailed with joy the first beams of the new sun, 
and attacked with their sarcasms the idleness of the monks, 
the immorality of the clergy, and the superstition of the 
people. Disgusted with the priestcraft of the middle ages, 
and captivated by the writers of antiquity and the purity of 
the Gospel, Oxford boldly called for a reform which should 
burst the bonds of clerical domination and emancipate the 
human mind. Men of letters thought for a while that they 
had found the most powerful man in England in Wolsey, 
the ally that would give them the victory. 

He possessed little taste for learning, but seeing the wind 
of public favour blow in that direction, he readily spread his 
sails before it. He got the reputation of a profound divine, 
by quoting a few words of Thomas Aquinas, and the fame 
of a Maecenas and Ptolemy, by inviting the learned to his 
gorgeous entertainments. " happy cardinal," exclaimed 
Erasmus, " who can surround his table with such torches!"* 

At that time the king felt the same ambition as his 
minister, and having tasted in turn the pleasures of war and 
diplomacy, he now bent his mind to literature. He desired 
Wolsey to present Sir Thomas More to him. " What shall 
I do at court ?" replied the latter. " I shall be as awkward 
as a man that never rode sitteth in a saddle." Happy in 
his family circle, where his father, mother, and children, 
gathering round the same table, formed a pleasing group, 
which the pencil of Holbein has transmitted to us, More 

* Cnjus meiua talibus luminibus cingitur. Erasm. Ep. p. 725. 



132 THE MONASTERIES ASSAILED. 

had no desire to leave it. But Henry was not a man to put 
up with a refusal ; he employed force almost to draw More 
from his retirement, and in a short time he could not live 
without the society of the man of letters. On calm and 
starlight nights they would walk together upon the leads at 
the top of the palace, discoursing on the motions of the 
heavenly bodies. If More did not appear at court, Henry 
would go to Chelsea and share the frugal dinner of the 
family with some of their simple neighbours. " Where," 
asked Erasmus, "where is the Athens, the Porch, or the 
Academe, that can be compared with the court of England? 

It is a seat of the muses rather than a palace The 

golden age is reviving, and I congratulate the world." 

But the friends of classical learning were not content with 
the cardinal's banquets or the king's favours. They wanted 
victories, and their keenest darts were aimed at the cloisters, 
those strong fortresses of the hierarchy and of uncleanness.* 
The abbot of Saint Albans, having taken a married woman 
for his concubine, and placed her at the head of a nunnery, 
his monks had followed his example, and indulged in the 
most scandalous debauchery. Public indignation was so 
far aroused, that Wolsey himself Wolsey, the father of 
several illegitimate children, and who was suffering the 
penalty of his irregularities-}- was carried away by the 
spirit of the age, and demanded of the pope a general reform 
of manners. When they heard of this request, the priests 
and friars were loud in their outcries. "What are you 
about?" said they to Wolsey. " You are giving the victory 
to the enemies of the church, and your only reward will be 
the hatred of the whole world." As this was not the car- 
dinal's game, he abandoned his project, and conceived one 
more easily executed. Wishing to deserve the name of 
" Ptolemy" conferred on him by Erasmus, he undertook to 
build two large colleges, one at Ipswich, his native town, 
the other at Oxford; and found it convenient to take the 
money necessary for their endowment, not from his own 

* Loca sacra ctiam ipsa Dei templa monialium stupro et sanguinis et 
seminis effusione profanare noil verentur. Papal bull. Wilkins, Con- 
cilia, p. 632. t Morbus vcnereus. Buruet. 



WOLSEY'S TWO COLLEGES. 133 

purse, but from the purses of the monks. He pointed out 
to the pope twenty-two monasteries in which (he said) vice 
and impiety had taken up their abode.* The pope granted 
their secularization, and Wolsey having thus procured a 
revenue of 2000 sterling, laid the foundations cf his 
college, traced out various courts, and constructed spacious 
kitchens. He fell into disgrace before he had completed his 
work, which led Gualter to say with a sneer : " He began 
a college and built a cook's shop."f But a great example 
had been set : the monasteries had been attacked, and the 
first breach made in them by a cardinal. Cromwell, Wol- 
sey's secretary, remarked how his master had set about his 
work, and in after-years profited by the lesson. 

It was fortunate for letters that they had sincerer friends 
in London than Wolsey. Of these were Colet, dean of St 
Paul's, whose house was the centre of the literary movement 
which preceded the Reformation, and his friend and guest 
Erasmus. The latter was the hardy pioneer who opened 
the road of antiquity to modern Europe. One day he would 
entertain Colet's guests with the account of a new manu- 
script ; on another, with a discussion on the forms of ancient 
literature ; and at other times he would attack the school- 
men and monks, when Colet would take the same side. 
The only antagonist who dared measure his strength with 
him was Sir Thomas More, who, although a layman, stoutly 
defended the ordinances of the church. 

But mere table-talk could not satisfy the dean : a numer- 
ous audience attended his sermons at St Paul's. The spirit- 
uality of Christ's words, the authority which characterizes 
them, their admirable simplicity and mysterious depth, had 
deeply charmed him : " I admire the writings of the apostles," 
he would say, " but I forget them almost, when I contemplate 
the wonderful majesty of Jesus Christ."| Setting aside the 
texts prescribed by the church, he explained, like Zwingle, 

* Wherein much vice and wickedness was harboured. Strypo, i. 169. 
The names of the monasteries are given. Ibid. ii. 132. 

f Instituit collegium et absolvit popinam. Fuller, cent. xvi. p. 169. 

Ita suspiciebat admirabileia illam Christi majestatem. Erasm. Epp 
707. 



134 COLET PREACHES THE REFORMATION. 

the Gospel of St Matthew. Nor did he stop here. Taking 
advantage of the Convocation, he delivered a sermon on 
conformation and reformation, which was one of the numer- 
ous forerunners of the great reform of the sixteenth century. 
" We see strange and heretical ideas appear in our days, and 
no wonder," said he. " But you must know there is no 
heresy more dangerous to the church than the vicious lives 
of its priests. A reformation is needed ; and that reforma- 
tion must begin with the bishops and be extended to the 
priests. The clergy once reformed, we shall proceed to the 
reformation of the people."* Thus spoke Colet, while the 
citizens of London listened to him with rapture, and called 
him a new Saint Paul.-j- 

Such discourses could not be allowed to pass unpunished. 
Fitzjames, bishop of London, was a superstitious obstinate 
old man of eighty, fond of money, excessively irritable, a 
poor theologian, and a slave to Duns Scotus, the subtle doc- 
tor. Calling to his aid two other bishops as zealous as him- 
self for the preservation of abuses, namely, Bricot and 
Standish, he denounced the dean of St Paul's to Warham. 
The archbishop having inquired what he had done : " What 
has he done ?" rejoined the bishop of London. " He teaches 
that we must not worship images ; he translates the Lord's 
Prayer into English; he pretends that the text Feed my 
sheep, does not include the temporal supplies the clergy 
draw from their flock. And besides all this," he continued 
with some embarrassment, "he has spoken against those 
who carry their manuscripts into the pulpit and read their 
sermons !" As this was the bishop's practice, the primate 
could not refrain from smiling ; and since Colet refused to 
justify himself, Warham did so for him. 

From that time Colet laboured with fresh zeal to scatter 
the darkness. He devoted the larger portion of his fortune 
to found the celebrated school of St Paul, of which the 
learned Lilly was the first master. Two parties, the Greeks 
and the Trojans, entered the lists, not to contend with sword 
and spear, as in the ancient epic, but with the tongue, the 

* Colet, Sermon to the Convocation. 

* Pcne apostolus Paulus habitus est. Polyd. Virg. p. SIR. 



TWO PARTIES, THE GREEKS AND TROJANS. 135 

pen, and sometimes the fist. If the Trojans (the obscur- 
ants) were defeated in the public disputations, they had 
their revenge in the secret of the confessional. Cave a 
Greeds ne fias hereticus* was the watchword of the priests 
their daily lesson to the youths under their care. They 
looked on the school founded by Colet as the monstrous 
horse of the perjured Sinon, and announced that from its 
bosom would inevitably issue the destruction of the people. 
Colet and Erasmus replied to the monks by inflicting fresh 
blows. Linacre, a thorough literary enthusiast, Grocyn, a 
man of sarcastic humour but generous heart, and many 
others, reinforced the Grecian phalanx. Henry himself 
used to take one of them with him during his journeys, and 
if any unlucky Trojan ventured in his presence to attack 
the tongue of Plato and of St Paul, the young king would 
set his Hellenian on him. Not more numerous were the 
contests witnessed in times of yore on the classic banks of 
Xanthus and Sirnois. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Wolsey His first Commission His Complaisance and Dioceses Cardi- 
nal, Chancellor, and Legate Ostentation and Necromancy His Spies 
and Enmity Pretensions of the Clergy. 

JUST as everything seemed tending to a reformation, a power- 
ful priest rendered the way more difficult. 

One of the most striking personages of the age was then 
making his appearance on the stage of the world. It was 
the destiny of that man, in the reign of Henry VIII., to 
combine extreme ability with extreme immorality ; and to 
be a new and striking example of the wholesome truth that 
immorality is more effectual to destroy a man than ability 
to save him. Wolsey was the last high-priest of Rome in 

* Boware of the Greeks, lest you should become a heretic. 



136 WOLSEY HIS FIRST SERVICES UNDER HENRY VII. 

England, and when his fall startled the nation, it was the 
signal of a still more striking fall the fall of popery. 

Thomas Wolsey, the son of a wealthy butcher of Ips- 
wich, according to the common story, which is sanctioned 
by high authority, had attained under Henry VII. the post 
of almoner, at the recommendation of Sir Eichard Nanfau, 
treasurer of Calais and an old patron of his. But Wolsey 
was .not at all desirous of passing his life in saying mass. 
As soon as he had discharged the regular duties of his office, 
instead of spending the rest of the day in idleness, as his 
colleagues did, he strove to win the good graces of the per- 
sons round the king. 

Fox, bishop of Winchester, keeper of the privy-seal un- 
der Henry VII., uneasy at the growing power of the earl of 
Surrey, looked about for a man to counterbalance him. He 
thought he had found such a one in Wolsey. It was to 
oppose the Surreys, the grandfather and uncles of Anne 
Boleyn, that the son of the Ipswich butcher was drawn 
from his obscurity. This is not an unimportant circum- 
stance in our narrative. Fox began to praise Wolsey in 
the king's hearing, and at the same tima he encouraged the 
almoner to give himself to public affairs. The latter was not 
deaf,* and soon found an opportunity of winning^ his sove- 
reign's favour. 

The king having business of importance with the em- 
peror, who was then in Flanders, sent for Wolsey, explained 
his wishes, and ordered him to prepare to set out. The 
chaplain determined to show Henry VII. how capable he 
was of serving him. It was long past noon when he took 
(cave of the king at Richmond at four o'clock he was in 
London, at seven at Gravesend. By travelling all night he 
reached Dover just as the packet-boat was about to sail. 
After a passage of three hours he reached Calais, whence he 
travelled post, and the same evening appeared before Maxi- 
milian. Having obtained what he desired, he set off again 
by night, and on the next day but one reached Richmond, 
three days and some few hours after his departure. The 
king, catching sight of him just as he was going to mass, 

* lla:c Wolseius non surdis audierit auribus. Polyd. Virg. p. 622. 



HIS ECCLESIASTICAL PROMOTION. 137 

sharply inquired, why lie had not set out. " Sire, I am just 
returned," answered Wolsey, placing the emperor's letters in 
his master's hands. Henry was delighted, and Wolsey saw 
that his fortune was made. 

The courtiers hoped at first that Wolsey, like an inexpe- 
rienced pilot, would run his vessel on some hidden rqck ; 
but never did helmsman manage his ship with more skill. 
Although twenty years older than Henry VIII. the almoner 
danced, and sang, and laughed with the prince's companions, 
and amused his new master with tales of scandal and quota- 
tions from Thomas Aquinas. The young king found his 
house a temple of paganism, a shrine of voluptuousness;* 
and while Henry's councillors were entreating him to leave 
his pleasures and attend to business, Wolsey was contin- 
ually reminding him that he ought to devote his youth to 
learning and amusement, and leave the toils of government 
to others. Wolsey was created bishop of Tournay during 
the campaign in Flanders, and on his return to England, 
was raised to the sees of Lincoln and of York. Three mitres 
had been placed on his head in one year. He found at last 
the vein he so ardently sought for. 

And yet he was not satisfied. The archbishop of Can- 
terbury had insisted, as primate, that the cross of York 
should be lowered to his. Wolsey was not of a disposition 
to concede this, and when he found that Warham was not 
content with being his equal, he resolved to make him his 
inferior. He wrote to Paris and to Rome. Francis I., who 
desired to conciliate England, demanded the purple for Wol- 
sey, and the archbishop of York received the title of Cardinal 
St Cecilia beyond the Tiber. In November 1515, his hat 
was brought by the envoy of the pope : " It would have 
been better to have given him a Tyburn tippet," said some 
indignant Englishmen ; " these Romish hats never brought 
good into England" { a saying that has become proverbial. 

This was not enough for Wolsey : he desired secular great- 
ness above all things. Warham, tired of contending with so 
arrogant a rival, resigned the seals, and the king immo- 

* Dotni sure voluptatum omnium sacrarium fecit. Polyd. Virg. p. 623 
t Latimer's Sermons (Parker Society), jv 1 19. 
VOL. V. 7 



138 WOLSEY'S OSTENTATION. 

diately transferred them to the cardinal. At length a bull 
appointed him legate a latere of the holy see, and placed un- 
der his jurisdiction all the colleges, monasteries, spiritual 
courts, bishops, and the primate himself (1519). From that 
time, as lord-chancellor of England and legate, Wolsey 
administered everything in church and state. He filled his 
coffers with money procured both at home and from abroad, 
and yielded without restraint to his dominant vices, ostenta- 
tion and pride. Whenever he appeared in public, two priests, 
the tallest and comeliest that could be found, carried before 
him two huge silver crosses, one to mark his dignity as 
archbishop, the other as papal legate. Chamberlains, gen- 
tlemen, pages, sergeants, chaplains, choristers, clerks, cup- 
bearers, cooks, and other domestics, to the number of more 
than 500, among whom were nine or ten lords and the state- 
liest yeomen of the country, filled his palace. He generally 
wore a dress of scarlet velvet and silk, with hat and gloves 
of the same colour. His shoes were embroidered with gold 
and silver, inlaid with pearls and precious stones. A kind of 
papacy was thus forming in England ; for wherever pride 
flourishes there popery is developed. 

One thing occupied Wolsey more than all the pomp with 
which he was surrounded : his desire, namely, to captivate 
the king. For this purpose he cast Henry's nativity, and 
procured an amulet which he wore constantly, in order to 
charm his master by its magic properties.* Then having re- 
course to a still more effectual necromancy, he selected from 
among the licentious companions of the young monarch 
those of the keenest discernment and most ambitious charac- 
ter ; and after binding them to him by a solemn oath, he 
placed them at court to be as eyes and ears to him. Accord- 
ingly not a word was said in the presence of the monarch, 
particularly against Wolsey, of which he was not informed 
an hour afterwards. If the culprit was not in favour, he 
was expelled without mercy ; in the contrary case, the minis- 
ter sent him on some distant mission. The queen's ladies, 

* He calked [calculated] the king's nativity he made by craft of 

necromancy graven imagery to bear upon him, wherewith he bewitched 
the king's mind. Tyndale's Expositions (Parker Soe.), p. 303. 



HATED BY THE PEOPLE. 139 

the king's chaplains, and even their confessois, were the car- 
dinal's spies. He pretended to omnipresence, as the pope to 
infallibility. 

Wolsey was not devoid of certain showy virtues, for he 
was liberal to the poor even to affectation, and as chancellor 
inexorable to every kind of irregularity, and strove particu- 
larly to make the rich and high-born bend beneath his 
power. Men of learning alone obtained from him some lit- 
tle attention, and hence Erasmus calls him " the Achates of 
a new JEneas." But the nation was not to be carried away 
by the eulogies of a few scholars. Wolsey a man of more 
than suspected morals, double-hearted, faithless to his pro- 
mises, oppressing the people with heavy taxes, and exceed- 
ingly arrogant to everybody Wolsey soon became hated 
by the people of England. 

The elevation of a prince of the Roman Church could not 
be favourable to the Reformation. The priests, encouraged 
by it, determined to make a stand against the triple attack 
of the learned, the reformers, and the state ; and they soon 
had an opportunity of trying their strength. Holy orders 
had become during the middle ages a warrant for every sort 
of crime. Parliament, desirous of correcting this abuse and 
checking the encroachments of the church, declared in the 
year 1513, that any ecclesiastic, accused of theft or murder, 
should be tried before the secular tribunals. Exceptions, 
however, were made in favour of bishops, priests, and dea- 
cons that is to say, nearly all the clergy. Notwithstand- 
ing this timid precaution, an insolent clerk, the abbot of 
Winchelcomb, began the battle by exclaiming at St Paul's : 
" Touch not mine anointed, said the Lord." At the same 
time Wolsey, accompanied by a long train of priests and 
prelates, had an audience of the king, at which he said with 
hands upraised to heaven : " Sire, to try a clerk, is a viola- 
tion of God's laws." This time, however, Henry did not 
give way. " By God's will, we are king of England," he re- 
plied, " and the kings of England in times past had never 
any superior but God onlv. Therefore know you well that 
we will maintain the right of our crown." He saw distinctly 
that to put the clergy above the laws was to put them above 



140 THK WOLVES RICHARD HUN. 

the throne. The priests were beaten, but not disheartened : 
perseverance is a characteristic feature of every hierarchical 
order. Not walking by faith, they walk all the more by 
sight ; and skilful combinations supply the place of the holy 
aspirations of the Christian. Humble disciples of the gospel 
were soon to experience this, for the clergy by a few isolated 
attacks were about to flesh themselves for the great strug- 
gles of the Reformation. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

The Wolves Richard Hun A Murder Verdict of the Jury Hun con- 
demned, and his Character vindicated The Gravesend Passage-boat 
A Festival disturbed Brown tortured Visit from his Wife A Mar- 
tyrCharacter of Erasmus 1516 and 1517 Erasmus goes to Basle. 

IT is occasionally necessary to soften down the somewhat 
exaggerated colours in which contemporary writers describe 
the Romish clergy ; but there are certain appellations which 
history is bound to accept. The wolves, for so the priests 
were called, by attacking the Lords and Commons had at- 
tempted a work beyond their reach. They turned their 
wrath on others. There were many shepherds endeavouring 
to gather together the sheep of the Lord beside the peaceful 
waters : these must be frightened, and the sheep driven into 
the howling wilderness. " The wolves " determined to fall 
upon the Lollards. 

There lived in London an honest tradesman named Rich- 
ard Hun, one of those witnesses of the truth who, sincere 
though unenlightened, have been often found in the bosom 
of Catholicism. It was his practice to retire to his closet 
and spend a portion of each day in the study of the Bible. 
At the death of one of his children, the priest required of him 
an exorbitant fee, which Hun refused to pay, and for which 
he was summoned before the legate's court. Animated by 
that public spirit which characterizes the people of England, 



HUN IM THE LO. LARDS* TOWER. 141 

he felt indignant that an Englishman should be cited before 
a foreign tribunal, and laid an information against the priest 
and his counsel under the act of prcemunire. Such boldness 
most extraordinary at that time exasperated the clergy 
beyond all bounds. " If these proud citizens are allowed to 
have their way," exclaimed the monks, " every layman will 
dare to resist a priest." 

Exertions were accordingly made to snare the pretended 
rebel in the trap of heresy ; * he was thrown into the 
Lollards' tower at St Paul's, and an iron collar was fas- 
tened round his neck, attached to which was a chain so 
heavy that neither man nor beast (says Foxe) would have 
been able to bear it long. When taken before his judges, 
they could not convict him of heresy, and it was observed 
with astonishment " that he had his beads in prison with 
him."-}- They would have set him at liberty, after inflicting 
on him perhaps some trifling penance but then, what a bad 
example it would be, and who could stop the reformers, if it 
was so easy to resist the papacy ? Unable to triumph by 
justice, certain fanatics resolved to triumph by crime. 

At midnight on the 2d December the day of his exami- 
nation three men stealthily ascended the stairs of the Lol- 
lards' tower : the bellringer went first carrying a torch ; a 
sergeant named Charles Joseph followed, and last came the 
bishop's chancellor. Having entered the cell, they went up 
to the bed on which Hun was lying, and finding that he 
was asleep, the chancellor said : " Lay hands on the thief," 
Charles Joseph and the bellringer fell upon the prisoner, who, 
awaking with a start, saw at a glance what this midnight 
visit meant. He resisted the assassins at first, but was soon 
overpowered and strangled. Charles Joseph then fixed the 
dead man's belt round his neck, the bellringer helped to raise 
his lifeless body, and the chancellor slipped the other end of 
the belt through a ring fixed in the wall. They then placed 
his cap on his head, and hastily quitted the cell."J Imme- 
diately after, the conscience-stricken Charles Joseph got on 

* Foxe, Acts and Mon. 55. p. 8. Folio, 1684, Lond. f Ibid. 

Ibid. p. 13. "And so all we murdered Hun and so Hun was 

hanged." (Evidence of Charles Joseph.) 



142 RICHAED HUN'S MURDER VERDICT OF THE JURY. 

horseback and rode from the city; the bellringer left the 
cathedral and hid himself : the crime dispersed the criminals. 
The chancellor alone kept his ground, and he was at prayers 
when the news was brought him that the turnkey had found 
Hun hanging. " He must have killed himself in despair " 
said the hypocrite. But every one knew poor Hun's Chris- 
tian feelings. " It is the priests who have murdered him," 
was the general cry in London, and an inquest was ordered 
to be held on his body. 

On Tuesday, the 5th of December, William Barnwell the 
city coroner, the two sheriffs, and twenty-four jurymen, pro- 
ceeded to the Lollards' tower. They remarked that the belt 
was so short that the head could not be got out of it, and 
that consequently it had never been placed in it voluntarily, 
and hence the jury concluded that the suspension was an 
after-thought of some other persons. Moreover they found 
that the ring was too high for the poor victim to reach it, 
that the body bore marks of violence and that traces of 
blood were to be seen in the cell : " Wherefore all we find by 
God and all our consciences (runs the verdict), that Richard 
Hun was murdered. Also we acquit the said Richard Hun 
of his own death."* 

It was but too true, and the criminals themselves confessed 
it. The miserable Charles Joseph having returned home on 
the evening of the 6th December, said to his maid-servant : 
" If you will swear to keep my secret, I will tell you all." 
" Yes, master," she replied, " if it is neither felony nor trea- 
son." Joseph took a book, swore the girl on it, and then 
said to her : " I have killed Richard Hun ! " " master ! 
how ? he was called a worthy man." " I would lever 
[rather] than a hundred pounds it were not done," he made 
answer ; " but what is done cannot be undone." He then 
rushed out of the house. 

The clergy foresaw what a serious blow this unhappy 
affair would be to them, and to justify themselves they ex- 
amined Hun's Bible (it was Wickliffe's version), and having 
read in the preface that " poor men and idiots [simple folks] 

* For particulars of the Inquest, see Foxe, Acts and Mon. ii. p. 14. 



HUN CONDEMNED HIS CHARACTER VINDICATED. 143 

have the truth of the Holy Scriptures more than a thousand 
prelates and religious men and clerks of the school," and 
further, that " the pope ought to be called Antichrist," the 
bishop of London, assisted by the bishops of Durham and 
Lincoln, declared Hun guilty of heresy, and on the 20th 
December his dead body was burnt at Smithfield. " Hun's 
bones have been burnt, and therefore he was a heretic," said 
the priests ; " he was a heretic, and therefore he committed 
suicide." 

The triumph of the clergy was of short duration ; for al- 
most at the same time William Horsey, the bishop's chan- 
cellor, Charles Joseph, and John Spalding the bellringer, 
were convicted of the murder. A bill passed the Commons 
restoring Hun's property to his family and vindicating his 
character ; the Lords accepted the bill, and the king himself 
said to the priests : " Restore to these wretched children the 
" property of their father, whom you so cruelly murdered, to 
our great and just horror."* "If the clerical theocracy 
should gain the mastery of the state," was the general re- 
mark in London, " it would not only be a very great lie, but 
the most frightful tyranny ! " England has never gone back 
since that time, and a theocratic rule has always inspired the 
sound portion of the nation with a just and insurmountable 
antipathy. Such were the events taking place in England 
shortly before the Reformation. This was not all. 

The clergy had not been fortunate in Hun's affair, but 
they were not for that reason unwilling to attempt a new 
one. 

In the spring of 1517 the year in which Luther posted 
up his theses a priest, whose manners announced a man 
swollen with pride, happened to be on board the passage- 
boat from London to Gravesend with an intelligent and pious 
Christian of Ashford, by name John Brown. The passen- 
gers, as they floated down the stream, were amusing them- 
selves by watching the banks glide away from them, when 
the priest, turning towards Brown, said to him insolently : 
" You are too near me, get farther off. Do you know who I 
am ?" " No, sir," answered Brown. " Well, then, you must 
* Verdict on the Inquest ; Foxe, p. 12. 



144 THE GBAVESEND BOA! JOHN BROWN. 

know that I am a priest." " Indeed, sir ; are you a parson, or 
vicar, or a lady's chaplain ?" " No ; I am a soul-priest" he 
haughtily replied ; " I sing mass to save souls." " Do you, 
sir," rejoined Brown somewhat ironically, " that is well done ; 
and can you tell me where you find the soul when you be- 
gin the mass?" " I cannot," said the priest. "And where 
you leave it when the mass is ended?" " I do not know." 
" What!" continued Brown with marks of astonishment, 
" you do not know where you find the soul or where you leave 

it and yet you say that you save it !" " Go thy ways," 

said the priest angrily, " thou art a heretic, and I will be even 
with thee." Thenceforward the priest and his neighbour 
conversed no more together. At last they reached Graves- 
end and the boat anchored. 

As soon as the priest had landed, he hastened to two of , 
his friends, Walter and William More, and all three mount- 
ing their horses set off for Canterbury, and denounced Brown 
to the archbishop. 

In the meantime John Brown had reached home. Three 
days later, his wife, Elizabeth, who had just left her cham- 
ber, went to church, dressed all in white, to return thanks to 
God for delivering her in the perils of childbirth. Her hus- 
band, assisted by her daughter Alice and the maid-servant, 
were preparing for their friends the feast usual on such 
occasions, and they had all of them taken their seats at 
table, joy beaming on every face, when the street-door was 
abruptly opened, and Chilton, the constable, a cruel and 
savage man, accompanied by several of the archbishop's aj>- 
paritors, seized upon the worthy townsman. All sprang 
from their seats in alarm ; Elizabeth and Alice uttered the 
most heartrending cries ; but the primate's officers, without 
showing any emotion, pulled Brown out of the house, and 
placed him on horseback, tying his feet under the animal's 
belly.* It is a serious matter to jest with a priest. The 
cavalcade rode off quickly, and Brown was thrown into pri- 
son, and there left forty days. 

At the end of this time, the archbishop of Canterbury 
and the bishop of Rochester called before them the im- 
* Foxe, Acts, ii. p. 7. His feet bound under his own horse. 



BROWN I CT TO THE TORTURE. 145 

ptident fellow who doubted whether a priest's mass could 
save souls, and required him to retract this " blasphemy." 
But Brown, if he did not believe in the mass, believed 
in the gospel : " Christ was once offered," he said, " to 
take away the sins of many. It is by this sacrifice we 
are saved, and not by the repetitions of the priests." At 
this reply the archbishop made a sign to the executioners, 
one of whom took off the shoes and stockings of this pious 
Christian, while the other brought in a pan of burning 
coals, upon which they set the martyr's feet.* The English 
laws in truth forbade torture to be inflicted on any subject 
of the crown, but the clergy thought themselves above the 
laws. " Confess the efficacity of Ae mass," cried the two 
bishops to poor Brown. " If I deny my Lord upon earth," 
he replied, " He will deny me before his Father in heaven." 
The flesh was burnt off the soles of the feet even to the 
bones, and still John Brown remained unshaken. The 
bishops therefore ordered him to be given over to the secu- 
lar arm that he might be burnt alive. 

On the Saturday preceding the festival of Pentecost, in the 
year 1517, the martyr was led back to Ashford, where he 
arrived just as the day was drawing to a close. A number 
of idle persons were collected in the street, and among them 
was Brown's maid-servant, who ran off crying to the house, 

and told her mistress : " I have seen him He was bound, 

and they weic taking him to prison." 7 Elizabeth hastened 
to her husband and found him sitting with his feet in the 
stocks, his features changed by suffering, and expecting to 
be burnt alive on the morrow. The poor woman sat down 
beside him, weeping most bitterly ; while he, being hindered 
by his chains, could not so much as bend towards her. " I 
cannot set my feet to the ground," said he, " for bishops have 
burnt them to the bones ; but they could not burn my tongue 

and prevent my confessing the Lord Elizabeth! 

continue to love him for He is good ; and bring up oui 
children in his fear." 

* His bare feet were set upon hot burning coals. The Lollards (edit. 
Tract Soc.), p. 140. 

t A young maid of his house coming by saw her master, she rail 
home. The Lollard-, p. 50. 

7 o 



146 BROWN'S MARTYRDOM. 

On the following morning it was Whitsunday the 
brntal Chilton and his assistants led Brown to the place of 
execution, and fastened him to the stake. Elizabeth and 
Alice, with his other children and his friends, desirous of re- 
ceiving his last sigh, surrounded the pile, uttering cries of 
anguish. The fagots were set on fire ; while Brown, calm 
and collected, and full of confidence in the blood of the 
Saviour, clasped his hands, and repeated this hymn, which 
Foxe has preserved : * 

O Lord, I yield me to thy grace, 
Grant me mercy for my trespass ; 
Let never the fiend my soul chase. 
Lord, I will DOW, and thou shalt beat, 
Let never my soul come in hell-heat. 

The martyr was silent: the flames had consumed their 
victim. Then redoubled cries of anguish rent the air. His 
wife and daughter seemed as if they would lose their senses. 
The bystanders showed them the tenderest compassion, and 
turned with a movement of indignation towards the execu- 
tioners. The brutal Chilton perceiving this, cried out: 
"Come along; let us toss the heretic's children into the 
flames, lest they should one day spring from their father's 
ashes."-]- He rushed towards Alice, and was about to lay 
hold of her, when the maiden shrank back screaming with 
horror. To the end of her life, she recollected the fearful 
moment, and to her we are indebted for the particulars. The 
fury of the monster was checked. Such were the scenes 
passing in England shortly before the Reformation. 

The priests were not yet satisfied, for the scholars still 
remained in England : if they could not be burnt, they 
should at least be banished. They set to work accordingly. 
Standish, bishop of St Asaph, a sincere man, as it would 
seem, but fanatical, was inveterate in his hatred of Erasmus, 
who had irritated him by an idle sarcasm. When speaking 
of St AsapVs it was very common to abbreviate it into S( 

* Foxe, Acts and Mon. ii. p. 8 (folio, 1684), iv. p. 132 (Lond. 1838). 
We shall ;'n future refer to the latter edition, as being more accessible. 

t Bade >ast in his children also, for they would spring of his ashes. 
Ibid. 



CHARACTER OF ERASMUS. 147 

As's ; and as Standish was a theologian of no great learning, 
Erasmus, in his jesting way, would sometimes call him 
Eplscppus a Sancto Asino. As the bishop could not destroy 
Colet, the disciple, he flattered himself that he should triumph 
over the master. 

Erasmus knew Standish's intentions. Should he com- 
mence in England that struggle with the papacy which 
Luther was about to begin in Germany ? It was no longer 
possible to steer a middle course : he must either fight or 
leave. The Dutchman was faithful to his nature we may 
even say, to his vocation : he left the country. 

Erasmus was, in his time, the head of the great literary 
community. By means of his connexions and his corre- 
spondence, which extended over all Europe, he established 
between those countries where learning was reviving, an 
interchange of ideas and manuscripts. The pioneer of an- 
tiquity, an eminent critic, a witty satirist, the advocate of 
correct taste, and a restorer of literature, one only glory was 
wanting : he had not the creative spirit, the heroic soul of a 
Luther. He calculated with no little skill, could detect the 
smile on the lips or the knitting of the brows ; but he had 
not that self-abandonment, that enthusiasm for the truth, 
that firm confidence in God, without which nothing great 
can be done in the world, and least of all in the church. 
" Erasmus had much, but was little," said one of his bio- 
graphers.* 

In the year 1517, a crisis had arrived : the period of the 
revival was over, that of the Reformation was beginning. 
The restoration of letters was succeeded by the regeneration 
of religion : the days of criticism and neutrah'ty by those of 
courage and action. Erasmus was then only forty-nine 
years old ; but he had finished his career. From being first, 
he must now be second : -the monk of Wittemberg dethroned 
him. He looked around himself in vain : placed in a new 
country, he had lost his road. A hero was needed to in- 
augurate the great movement of modern times : Erasmus 
was a mere man of letters. 

When attacked by Standish in 1516, the literary king 
Ad. Muller. 



148 ERASMUS GOES TO BASLE. 

determined to quit the court of England, and take refuge in 
a printing-office. But before laying down his sceptre at the 
toot of a Saxon monk, he signalized the end of his reign by 
the most brilliant of his publications. The epoch of 1516-17, 
memorable for the theses of Luther, was destined to be 
equally remarkable by a work which was to imprint on the 
new times their essential character. What distinguishes 
the Reformation from all anterior revivals is the union of 
learning with piety, and a faith more profound, more en- 
lightened, and based on the word of God. The Christian 
people was then emancipated from the tutelage of the schools 
and the popes, and its charter of enfranchisement was the 
Bible. The sixteenth century did more than its predecessors : 
it went straight to the fountain (the Holy Scriptures), cleared 
it of weeds and brambles, plumbed its depths, and caused its 
abundant streams to pour forth on all around. The Refor- 
mation age studied the Greek Testament, which the clerical 
age had almost forgotten, and this is its greatest glory. 
Now the first explorer of this divine source was Erasmus. 
"When attacked by the hierarchy, the leader of the schools 
withdrew from the splendid halls of Henry VIII. It seemed 
to him that the new era which he had announced to the 
world was rudely interrupted : he could do nothing more by 
his conversation for the country of the Tudors. But he 
carried with him those precious leaves, the fruit of his 
labours a book which would do more than he desired. He 
hastened to Basle, and took up his quarters in Frobenius's 
printing-office,* where he not only laboured himself, but 
made others labour. England will soon receive the seed ol 
the new life, and the Reformation is about to begin. 

* Frobenio, ut nullius ofiicince plus debeant sacrarum stadia literaruin 
Erasm. Ep. p. 330. 



BOOK XVIII. 

THE REVIVAL OF THE CHURCH. 

CHAPTER I. 

Four reforming Powers Which reformed England ! Papal Reform ! 
Episcopal Reform * Royal Reform 1 What is required in a legitimate 
Reform ? The Share of the Kingly Power Share of the Episcopal Au- 
thority High and Low Church Political Events The Greek and 
Latin New Testament Thoughts of Erasmus Enthusiasm and Anger 
Desire of Erasmus Clamours of the Priests Their attack at Court 
Astonishment of Erasmus His Labours for this Work Edward Lee ; 
his Character Lee's Tragedy Conspiracy. 

IT was within the province of four powers in the sixteenth 
century to effect a reformation of the church : these were the 
papacy, the episcopate, the monarchy, and Holy Scripture. 

The Reformation in England was essentially the work oi 
Scripture. 

The only true Reformation is that which emanates from 
the word of God. The Holy Scriptures, by bearing witness 
to the incarnation, death, and resurrection of the Son of God, 
create in man by the Holy Ghost a faith which justifies him. 
That faith, which produces in him a new life, unites him to 
Christ, without his requiring a chain of bishops or a Roman 
mediator, who would separate him from the Saviour instead 
of drawing him nearer. This Reformation by the word re- 
stores that spiritual Christianity which the outward and 
hierarchical religion had destroyed ; and from the regenera- 
tion of individuals naturally results the regeneration of the 
church. 

The Reformation of England, perhaps to a greater extent 
than that of the continent, was effected by the word of God. 
This statement may appear paradoxical, but it is not the 



150 DIFFERENT KINDS OF REFORM. 

less true. Those great individualities we meet with in Ger- 
many, Switzerland, and France men like Luther, Zwingle, 
and Calvin do not appear in England ; but Holy Scripture 
is widely circulated. What brought light into the British 
isles subsequently to the year 1517, and on a more extended 
scale after the year 1526, was the word the invisible power 
of the invisible God. The religion of the Anglo-Saxon race 
a race called more than any other to circulate the oracles 
of God throughout the world is particularly distinguished 
by its biblical character. 

The Reformation of England could not be papal. No re- 
form can be hoped from that which ought to be not only 
reformed, but abolished ; and besides, no monarch dethrones 
himself. We may even affirm that the popedom has always 
felt a peculiar affection for its conquests in Britain, and that 
they would have been the last it would have renounced. A 
serious voice had declared in the middle of the fifteenth 
century : " A reform is neither in the will nor in the power 
of the popes."* 

The Reformation of England was not episcopal. Roman 
nierarchism will never be abolished by Roman bishops. 
An episcopal assembly may perhaps, as at Constance, de- 
pose three competing popes, but then it will be to save the 
papacy. And if the bishops could not abolish the papacy, 
still less could they reform themselves. The then existing 
episcopal power, being at enmity with the word of God, and 
the slave of its own abuses, was incapable of renovating the 
church. On the contrary, it exerted all its influence to pre- 
vent such a renovation. 

The Reformation in England was not royal. Samuel, 
David, and Josiah were able to do something for the raising 
up of the church, when God again turned his face towards 
it ; but a king cannot rob his people of their religion, and 
still less can he give them one. It has often been repeated 
that " the English Reformation derives its origin from the 
monarch ;" but the assertion is incorrect. The work of God, 
here as elsewhere, cannot be put in comparison with the 

* James of Juterbock, prior of the Carthusians : De septem eccleeiae 

etatibi* opusoulum. 



HUMAN ELEMENTS. 151 

work of the king ; and if the latter was infinitely surpassed 
in importance, it was also preceded in time by many years. 
The monarch was still keeping up a vigorous resistance be- 
hind his intrenchments, when God had already decided the 
victory along the whole line of operations. 

Shall we be told that a reform effected by any other prin- 
ciple than the established authorities, both in church and 
state, would have been a revolution? But has God, the 
lawful sovereign of the church, forbidden all revolution in a 
sinful world ? A revolution is not a revolt. The fall of the 
first man was a great revolution : the restoration of man by 
Jesus Christ was a counter-revolution. The corruption 
occasioned by popery was allied to the fall : the reformation 
accomplished in the sixteenth century was connected there- 
fore with the restoration. There will no doubt be other 
interventions of the Deity, which will be revolutions in the 
same direction as the Reformation. When God creates a 
new heaven and a new earth, will not that be one of the 
most glorious of revolutions? The Reformation by the 
word alone gives truth, alone gives unity ; but more than 
that, it alone bears the marks of true legitimacy ; for the 
church belongs not unto men, even though they be priests. 
God alone is its lawful sovereign. 

And yet the human elements which we have enumerated 
were not wholly foreign to the work that was accomplishing 
in England. Besides the word of God, other principles were 
ia operation, and although less radical and less primitive, 
they still retain the sympathy of eminent men of that 
nation. 

And in the first place, the intervention of the king's au- 
thority was necessary to a certain point. Since the supre- 
macy of Rome had been established in England by several 
usages which had the force of law, the intervention of the 
temporal power was necessary to break the bonds which it 
had. previously sanctioned. But it was requisite for the 
monarchy, while adopting a negative and political action, 
to leave the positive, doctrinal, and creative action to the 
word of God. 

Besides the Reformation in the name of the Scriptures^ 



152 TWO PARTIES IN THE CHURCH. 

there was then in England another in the name of the Icing. 
The word of God began, the kingly power followed; and 
ever since, these two forces have sometimes gone together 
against the authority of the Roman pontiffs sometimes in 
opposition to each other, like those troops which march side 
by side in the same army,' against the same enemy, and 
which have occasionally been seen, even on the field of 
battle, to turn their swords against each other. 

Finally, the episcopate which had begun by opposing the 
Reformation, was compelled to accept it in despite of its 
convictions. The majority of the bishops were opposed to 
it; but the better portion were found to incline, some to the 
side of outward reform, of which separation from the papacy 
was the very essence, and others to the side of internal re- 
form, whose mainspring was union with Jesus Christ. 
Lastly, the episcopate took up its ground on its own account, 
and soon two great parties alone existed in England : the 
scriptural party and the clerical party. 

These two parties have survived even to our days, and 
their colours are still distinguishable in the river of the 
church, like the muddy Arve and the limpid Rhone after 
their confluence. The royal supremacy, from which many 
Christians, preferring the paths of independence, have with- 
drawn since the end of the 16th century, is recognised by 
both parties in the establishment, with some few exceptions. 
But whilst the High Church is essentially hierarchical, the 
Low Church is essentially biblical. In the one, the Church 
is above and the Word below ; in the other, the Church is 
below and the Word above. These two principles, evangel- 
ism and hierarchism, are found in the Christianity of the 
first centuries, but with a signal difference. Hierarchism 
then almost entirely effaced evangelism ; in the age of pro- 
testantism, on the contrary, evangelism continued to exist 
by the side of hierarchism, and it has remained de jure, if 
not always de facto, the only legitimate opinion of the church. 

Thus there is in England a complication of influences and 
contests, which render the work more difficult to describe ; 
but it is on that very account more worthy the attention of 
the philosopher and the Christian. 



POLITICAL EVENTS. 153 

* 

Great events had just occurred in Europe. Francis I. had 
crossed the Alps, gained a signal victory at Marignano, and 
conquered the north of Italy. The affrighted Maximilian 
knew of none who could save him but Henry VIII. " I will 
adopt you; you shall be my successor in the empire," he 
intimated to him in May 1516. " Your army shall invade 
France ; and then we will march together to Rome, where 
the sovereign pontiff shall crown you king of the Romans." 
The king of France, anxious to effect a diversion, had formed 
a league with Denmark and Scotland, and had made pre- 
parations for invading England to place on the throne the 
" white rose," the pretender Pole, heir to the claims of the 
house of York.* Henry now showed his prydence ; he de- 
clined Maximilian's offer, and turned his whole attention to 
the security of his kingdom. But while he refused to bear 
arms in France and Italy, a war of quite another kind broke 
out in England. 

The great work of the 16th century was about to begin. 
A volume fresh from the presses of Basle had just crossed 
the channel. Being transmitted to London, Oxford, and 
Cambridge, this book, the fruit of Erasmus's vigils, soon 
found its way wherever there were friends of learning. It 
was the New Testament of our Lord Jesus Christ, published 
for the first time in Greek with a new Latin translation 
an event more important for the world than would have 
been the landing of the pretender in England, or the appear- 
ance of the chief of the Tudors in Italy. This book, in which 
God has deposited for man's salvation the seeds of life, was 
about to effect alone, without patrons and without interpre- 
ters, the most Astonishing revolution in Britain. 

"When Erasmus published this work, at the dawn, so to 
Bay, of modern times, he did not see all its scope. Had he 
foreseen it, he would perhaps have recoiled in alarm. He 
saw indeed that there was a great work to be done, but he 
believed that all good men would unite to do it with common 
accord. " A spiritual temple must be raised in desolated 
Christendom," said he. " The mighty of this world will 
contribute towards it their marble, their ivory, and their gold; 

* A private combination, &c. Strype's Memorials, i. part ii. p. 16. 

2 



154 SENTIMENTS OF ERASMUS. 

e 

I who am poor and humble offer the foundation stone," and 
he laid down before the world his edition of the Greek Testa- 
ment. Then glancing disdainfully at the traditions of men, 
he said : " It is not from human reservoirs, fetid with stag- 
nant waters, that we should draw the doctrine of salvation; 
but from the pure and abundant streams that flow from the 
heart of God." And when some of his suspicious friends 
spoke to hjm of the difficulties of the times, he replied : " If 
the ship of the church is to be saved from being swallowed 
up by the tempest, there is only one anchor that can save it : 
it is the heavenly word, which, issuing from the bosom of the 
Father, lives, speaks, and works still in the gospel." * These 
noble sentiments served as an introduction to those blessed 
pages which were to reform England. Erasmus like Caia- 
phas, prophesied without being aware of it. 

The New Testament in Greek and Latin had hardly ap- 
peared when it was received by all men of upright mind 
with unprecedented enthusiasm. Never had any book pro- 
duced such a sensation. It was in every hand : men strug- 
gled to procure it, read it eagerly, and would even kiss it-J- 
ibe words it contained enlightened every heart. But a re- 
action soon took place. Traditional Catholicism uttered a 
cry from the depths of its noisome pools (to use Erasmus's 
figure). Franciscans and Dominicans, priests and bishops, 
not daring to attack the educated and well-born, went among 
the ignorant populace, and endeavoured by their tales and 
clamours to stir up susceptible women and credulous men. 
" Here are horrible heresies," they exclaimed, " here are 
frightful antichrists ! If this book be tolerated it will be the 
death of the papacy I" " We must drive this man from the 
university," said one. " We must turn him out of the 
church," added another. " The public places re-echoed with 
their bowlings," said Erasmus.^ The firebrands tossed by 
their furious hands were raising fires in every quarter; ani 

* In evangelicis litteris, sermo ille ccelestis, quondam e corde Patris 
ad nos profectus. Erasm. Leoni, Ep. p. 1843. j 

t Opus avidissime rapitur amatur, manibus teritur. Erasm. E|> 

p. 557. 

J Oblatrabant sycophants. Ibii. p. 329 . 



ATTACK OP THE PRIESTS. 155 

the flames kindled in a few obscure convents threatened to 
spread over the whole country. 

This irritation was not without a cause. The book, in- 
deed, contained nothing but Latin and Greek ; but this first 
step seemed to augur another the translation of the Bible 
into the vulgar tongue. Erasmus loudly called for it.* 
" Perhaps it may be necessary to conceal the secrets of kings," 
he remarked, " but we must publish the mysteries of Christ. 
The Holy Scriptures, translated into all languages, should 
be read not only by the Scotch and Irish, but even by Turks 
and Saracens. The husbandman should sing them as he 
holds the handle of his plough, the weaver repeat them as 
he plies his shuttle, and the wearied traveller, halting on his 
journey, refresh him under some shady tree by these godly 
narratives." These words prefigured a golden age after the 
iron age of popery. A number of Christian families in Bri- 
tain and on the continent were soon to realize these evan- 
gelical forebodings, and England after three centuries'was to 
endeavour to carry them out for the benefit of all the nations 
on the face of the earth. 

The priests saw the danger, and by a skilful manoeuvre, 
instead of finding fault with the Greek Testament, attacked 
the translation and the translator. " He has corrected the 
Vulgate," they said, " and puts himself in the place of Saint 
Jerome. He sets aside a work authorized by the consent ot 
ages and inspired by the Holy Ghost. What audacity!" 
and then, turning over the pages, they pointed out the most 
odious passages : " Look here ! this book calls upon men to 
repent, instead of requiring them, as the Vulgate does, to do 
penance!" (Matt. iv. 17.) The priests thundered against 
him from their pulpits :f "This man has committed the 
unpardonable sin," they asserted , " for he maintains that 
there is nothing in common between the Holy Ghost and 
the monks that they are logs rather than men ! " These 
simple remarks were received with a general laugh, but the 
priests, in no wise disconcerted, cried out all the louder : 

* Paraclesis ad lectorem pium. 

t Quam stolide debacchati sunt quidan e suggestis ad populous. 
Erasui. Ep. p. 1193. 



156 ATTACK OP THE PRIESTS AT COURT. 

" He 's a heretic, an heresiarch, a forger! he 's a goose* 

what do I say? he's a very antichrist!" 

It was not sufficient for the papal janissaries to make war 
in the plain, they must carry it to the higher ground. Was 
not the king a friend of Erasmus? If he should declare 
himself a patron of the Greek and Latin Testament, what 

an awful calamity! After having agitated the cloisters, 

towns, and universities, they resolved to protest against it 
boldly, even in Henry's presence. They thought : " If he is 
won, all is won." It happened one day that a certain theo- 
logian (whose name is not given) having to preach in his 
turn before the king, he declaimed violently against the 
Greek language and its new interpreters. Pace, the king's 
secretary, was present, and turning his eyes on Henry, ob- 
served him smiling good humouredly. -|- On leaving the 
church, every one began to exclaim against the preacher. 
" Bring the priest to me," said the king ; and then turning 
to More, he added : " You shall defend the Greek cause 
against him, and I will listen to the disputation." The lite- 
rary tribunal was soon formed, but the sovereign's order had 
taken away all the priest's courage. He Ccime forward trem- 
bling, fell on his knees, and with clasped hands exclaimed: 
" I know not what spirit impelled me." " A spirit of mad-" 
ness," said the king, " and not the spirit of Jesus Christ." J 
He then added : " Have you ever read Erasmus ? " " No, 
Sire." " Away with you then, you are a blockhead." " And 
yet," said the preacher in confusion, " I remember to have 
read something about Moria" (Erasmus's treatise on Folly.} 
" A subject, your majesty, that ought to be very familiar 
to him," wickedly interrupted Pace. The obscurant could 
say nothing in his justification. " I am not altogether op- 
posed to the Greek," he added at last, " seeing that it is de- 
rived from the Hebrew." This was greeted with a general 

* Nos clamitans esse grues (cranes) et bestias. Erasm. Ep. p. 914. 

} Pacseus in regem conjecit oculos Is mox Pacseo suaviter arrisit. 

Ibid. 

J Turn rex : ut qui inquit, spiritus iste non erat Christi sed stultitise 
Ibid. 

Grsecis, inquit, literis non perinde sum infensus, quod originem ha- 
leant ex lingua hebraica. Ibid. p. 347. 



LABOURS OP ERASMUS. 157 

laugh, and the king impatiently ordered the monk to leave 
the room, and never appear before him again. 

Erasmus was astonished at these discussions. He had 
imagined the season to be most favourable. u Everything 
looks peaceful," he had said to himself; "now is the time 
to launch my Greek Testament into the learned world."* 
As well might the sun rise upon the earth, and no one see 
it ! At that very hour God was raising up a monk at Wit- 
tcmberg who would lift the trumpet to his lips, and proclaim 
the new day. " Wretch that I am ! " exclaimed the timid 
scholar, beating his breast, " who could have foreseen this 
horrible tempest ! " -{- 

Nothing was more important at the dawn of the Reforma- 
tion than the publication of the Testament of Jesus Christ 
in the original language. Never had Erasmus worked so 
carefully. " If I told what sweat it cost me, no one would 
believe me." J He had collated many Greek MSS. of the 
New Testament, and was surrounded by all the commen- 
taries and translations, by the writings of Origen, Cyprian, 
Ambrose, Basil, Chrysostom, Cyril, Jerome, and Augustine. 
Hie sum incampo meo ! he exclaimed as he sat'in the midst 
of his books. He had investigated the texts according to 
the principles of sacred criticism. When a knowledge of 
Hebrew was ecessary, he had consulted Capito, and more 
particularly (Ecolampadius. Nothing icithout Theseus, said 
he of the latter, making use of a Greek proverb. He had 
corrected the amphibologies, obscurities, hebraisms, and bar- 
barisms of the Vulgate; and had caused a list to be printed 
of the errors in that version. 

" We must restore the pure text of the word of God," he 
had said ; and when he heard the maledictions of the priests, 
he had exclaimed : " I call God to witness I thought I was 
doing a work acceptable to the Lord and necessary to the 
cause of Christ." || Nor in this was he deceived. 

.* Erant tempera tranquilla. Erasm. Ep. p. 911. 

+ Quis enim suspicaturus erat hanc fatalem tempestatem exoriturara 
in orbe ! Ibid. 

$ Quantis mihi constiterit sndoribus. Ibid. p. 329. 

Collatis multis Graecorum ezemplaribus. Ibid. 

|| Deum tester simpliciter ex.stimabam mo rcm facere Deo gratam ao 
rei cbristians necessarian. Ibid. p. Ml. 



158 EDWARD LEE. 

At the head of his adversaries was Edward Lee, succes- 
sively king's almoner, archdeacon of Colchester, and arch- 
bishop of York. Lee, at that time but little known, was a 
man of talent and activity, but also vain and loquacious, 
and determined to make his way at any cost. Even when a 
schoolboy, he looked down on all his companions.* As 
child, youth, man, and in mature years, he was always the 
same, Erasmus tells us ; -J- that is to say, vain, envious, jeal- 
ous, boasting, passionate, and revengeful. We must bear in 
mind, however, that when Erasmus describes the character 
of his opponents, he is far from being an impartial judge. 
In the bosom of Roman-catholicism, there have always ex- 
isted well-meaning, though ill-informed men, who, not know- 
ing the interior power of the word of God, have thought that 
if its authority were substituted for' that of the Romish 
church, the only foundation of truth and of Christian society 
would be shaken. Yet while we judge Lee less severely 
than Erasmus does, we cannot close our eyes to his faults. 
His memory was richly furnished, but his heart was a 
stranger to divine truth : he was a schoolman and not a 
believer. He wanted the people to obey the church and not 
trouble themselves about the Scriptures. He was the Doctor 
Eck of England, but with more of outward appearance and 
morality than Luther's adversary. Yet he was by no means 
a rigid moralist. On one occasion, when preaching at the 
palace, he introduced ballads into his sermon, one of which 
began thus : 

" Pass time with good company." 
And the other : 

" I love unloved." 

We are indebted to Secretary Pace for this characteristic 
trait.f 

During the sojourn of Erasmus in England, Lee, observ- 
ing his influence, had sought his friendship, and Erasmus, 

* Solus haberi in pretio volebat. Erasm. Ep. p. 593. 
f Talis erat puer, talis adolescens, tails juvenis, talis nunc ctiam vir est. 
Ibid. 594. 
J State Papers, Henry VIII. etc. i. p 10, pub. 1830. 



LEAGUE AGAINST THE NEW TESTAMENT. 159 

with his usual courtesy, had solicited his advice upon his 
work. But Lee, jealous of his great reputation, only waited 
for an opportunity to injure it, which he seized upon as soon 
as it occurred. The New Testament had not been long pub- 
lished, when Lee turned round abruptly, and from being 
Erasmus's friend became his implacable adversary. * " If 
we do not stop this leak," said he when he heard of the New 
Testament, " it will sink the ship." Nothing terrifies the 
defenders of human traditions so much as the word of God. 

Lee immediately leagued himself with all those in Eng- 
land who abhorred the study of Scripture, says Erasmus. 
Although exceedingly conceited, he showed himself the most 
amiable of men, in order to accomplish his designs. He in- 
vited Englishmen to his house, welcomed strangers, and 
gained many recruits by the excellence of his dinners.-j- 
While seated at table among his guests, he hinted perfidious 
charges against Erasmus, and his company left him " loaded 
with lies." J " In this New Testament," said he, " there 

are three hundred dangerous, frightful passages three 

hundred did I say? there are more than a thousand!" 

Not satisfied with using his tongue, Lee wrote scores of let- 
ters, and employed several secretaries. Was there any con- 
vent in the odour of sanctity, he " forwarded to it instantly 
wine, choice viands, and other presents." To each one he 
assigned his part, and over all England they were rehearsing 
what Erasmus calls Lee's tragedy. In this manner they 
were preparing the catastrophe ; a prison for Erasmus, the 
fire for the Holy Scriptures. 

When all was arranged, Lee issued his manifesto. Al- 
though a poor Greek scholar,]) he drew up some Annotations 
on Erasmus's book, which the latter called " mere abuse and 
blasphemy ;" but which the members of the league regarded 
as oracles. They passed them secretly from hand to hand, 
and these obscure sheets, by many indirect channels, found 

Subito factus est inimicus. Erasm. Ep. p. 746. 
+ Excipicbat advenas, praesertim Anglos, eos coimviis faciebat suoa. 
Ibic p 593. 

. Abeuntes omni raendaciorum genere dimittebat onustos. Ibid. 
' Douce Lcus ordiretur suam tragaediam. Ibid. p. 913. 
", Simon, Hist. crit. du N. Test. p. 246. 



160 LEE'S MANIFESTO GENERAL OPPOSITION. 

their way into every part of England, and met with numer- 
ous readers.* There was to be no publication such was 
the watchword ; Lee was too much afraid. " Why did you 
not publish your work ?" asked Erasmus, with cutting irony. 
" Who knows whether the holy father, appointing you the 
Aristarchus of letters, might not have sent you a birch to 
keep the whole world in order !"-j- 

The Annotations having triumphed in the convents, the 
conspiracy took a new flight. In every place of public resort, 
at fairs and markets, at the dinner-table and in the council- 
chamber, in shops, and taverns, and houses of ill-fame, in 
churches and in the universities, in cottages and in palaces, 
the league blattered against Erasmus and the Greek Testa- 
ment.:}: Carmelites, Dominicans, and Sophists, invoked 
heaven and conjured hell. What need was there of Scrip- 
ture ? Had they not the apostolical succession of the clergy ? 
No hostile landing in England could, in their eyes, be more 
fatal than that of the New Testament. The whole nation must 
rise to repel this impudent invasion. There is, perhaps, no 
country in Europe, where the Reformation was received by 
so unexpected a storm. 



CHAPTER 11. 

Effects of the New Testament in the Universities Conversations A 
Cambridge Fellow Bilney buys the New Testament The First Pas- 
sageHis Conversion Protestantism, the Fruit of the Gospel The 
Vale of the Severn William Tyndale Evangelization at Oxford 
Biluey teaches at Cambridge Fry th Is Conversion possible ? True 
Consecration The Reformation has begun. 

WHILE this rude blast was rushing over England, and roar- 
ing in the long galleries of its convents, the still small voice 

* Liber volitat inter manus conjuratorum. Erasm. En. p. 746. 
f- Tibi tradita virgula totius orbis censuram fuerit maudaturus. Ibid. 
p. 742. 
J Utnusquam non blat event in Erasmum, in compotationibus, in foris, 



THE NEW TESTAMENT IN THE UNIVERSITIES. 161 

of the Word was making its way into the peaceful homes of 
praying men and the ancient halls of Oxford and Cambridge. 
In private chambers, in the lecture-rooms and refectories, 
students, and even masters of arts, were to be seen reading 
the Greek and Latin Testament. Animated groups were 
discussing the principles of the Reformation. When Christ 
came on earth (said some) He gave the Word, and when He 
ascended up into heaven He gave the Holy Spirit. These 
are the two forces which created the church and these are 
the forces that must regenerate it. No (replied the partisans 
of Rome), it was the teaching of the apostles at first, and it 
is the teaching of the priests now. The apostles (rejoined 
the friends of the Testament of Erasmus) yes, it is true 
the apostles were during their ministry a living scripture ; 
but their oral teaching would infallibly have been altered by 
passing from mouth to mouth. God willed, therefore, that 
these precious lessons should be preserved to us in their 
writings, and thus become the ever undefined source of truth 
and salvation. To set the Scriptures in the foremost place, 
as your pretended reformers are doing, replied the schoolmen 
of Oxford and Cambridge, is to propagate heresy ! And 
what are the reformers doing (asked their apologists) except 
what Christ did before them ? The sayings of the prophets 
existed in the time of Jesus only as Scripture, and it was 
to this written Word that our Lord appealed when he founded 
his kingdom.* And now in like manner the teaching of the 
apostles exists only as Scripture, and it is to this written 
word that we appeal in order to re-establish the kingdom of 
our Lord in its primitive condition. The night is far spent, 
the day is at hand ; all is in motion in the lofty halls of our 
colleges, in the mansions of the rich and noble, and in the 
lowly dwellings of the poor. If we want to scatter the dark- 
ness, must we light the shrivelled wick of some old lamp ? 
Ought we not rather to open the doors and shutters, and 

in conciliabulis, in pharmacopoliis, in curribus,in tonstrinls, in fornicibui. 

Erasm. Ep. p. 746. 

Matth. xxii. 29 ; xxvi. 24, 54 ; Mark, xiv. 49 ; Luke, xviii. 31 ; 
27, U, 45 ; John v. 39, 4G ; x. 35 ; xvii. 12. &c 
VOL. V. 8 



162 THOMAS BILNEY HIS ANGUISH. 

admit freely into the house the great light which God has 
placed in the heavens ? 

There was in Trinity Hall, Cambridge, a young doctor, 
much given to the study of the canon law, of serious turn of 
mind and bashful disposition, and whose tender conscience 
strove, although ineffectually, to fulfil the commandments of 
God. Anxious about his salvation, Thomas Bilney applied 
to the priests, whom he looked upon as physicians of the 
soul. Kneeling before his confessor, with humble look and 
pale face, he told him all his sins, and even those of which 
he doubted.* The priest prescribed at one time fasting, at 
another prolonged vigils, and then masses and indulgences 
which cost him dearly.-}- The poor doctor went through all 
these practices with great devotion, but found no consolation 
in them. Being weak and slender, his body wasted away 
by degrees,:}: his understanding grew weaker, his imagina- 
tion faded, and his purse became empty. " Alas !" said he 
with anguish, " my last state is worse than the first." From 
time to time an idea crossed his mind : " May not the priests 
be seeking their own interest, and not the salvation of my 
soul?" But immediately rejecting the rash. doubt, he fell 
back under the iron hand of the clergy. 

One day Bilney heard his friends talking about a new 
book : it was the Greek Testament printed with a translation 
which was highly praised for its elegant latinity.|| Attracted 
by the beauty of the style rather than by the divinity of the 
subject,^" he stretched out his hand; but just as he was 
going to take the volume, fear came upon him and he with- 
drew it hastily. In fact the confessors strictly prohibited 
Greek and Hebrew books, " the sources of all heresies ;" and 
Erasmus's Testament was particularly forbidden. Yet Bil- 

* In ignaros medicos, indoctos confessionum auditores. Th. Bilnaeus 
Tonstallo Episcopo ; Foxe, iv. p. 633. 

f Indicebant enim mihi jejunia, vigilias, indulgentiarum et missarum 
emptiones. Ibid. 

J TJt parum mihi virium (alioqui natura imbecilli) reliquum fuerit. Ibid. 

Sua potius quaorebant quam salutem animaj mere languentis. Ibid. 

[[ Cum ab eo latinius redditum accepi. Ibid. 

TI Latinitate potius quam verbo Dei, allectus. Ibid. 



HE OPENS THE NEW TESTAMENT. 163 

ney regretted so great a sacrifice ; was it not the Testament 
of Jesus Christ ? Might not God have placed therein some 
word which perhaps might heal his soul ? He stepped for- 
ward, and then again shrank back At last he took cour- 
age. Urged, said he, by the hand of God, he walked out of 
the college, slipped into the house where the volume was 
sold in secret, bought it with fear and trembling, and then 
hastened back and shut himself up in his room. * 

He opened it his eyes caught these words : This is a 
faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, tJiat Christ 
Jesus came into the world to save sinners ; of whom I am 
chicf.j He laid down the book, and meditated on the as- 
tonishing declaration. " What ! St Paul the chief of sinners, 
and yet St Paul is sure of being saved 1" He read the verse 
again and again. " assertion of St Paul, how sweet art 
thou to my soul!" he exclaimed.^ This declaration con- 
tinually haunted him, and in this manner God instructed 
him in the secret of his heart. He could not tell what had 
happened to him ; || it seemed as if a refreshing wind were 
blowing over his soul, or as if a rich treasure had been placed 
in his hands. The Holy Spirit took what was Christ's, and 
anrfbunced it to him. " I also am like Paul," exclaimed he with 

emotion, " and more than Paul, the greatest of sinners ! 

But Christ saves sinners. At last I have heard of Jesus." ^j 

His doubts were ended he was saved. Then took place 
in him a wonderful transformation. An unknown joy per- 
vaded him ;** his conscience, until then sore with the wounds 
of sin, was healed ; -J-J- instead of despair he felt an inward 
peace passing all understanding.^ "Jesus Christ," exclaimed 

he : "yes, Jesus Christ saves !" Such is the character of 

the Reformation : it is Jesus Christ who saves, and not the 

* Emebam providentia (sine dubio) diviua. Foxe, iv. p. 633. 

t 1 Tim. i. 15. 

J O mihi suavissimam Pauli sententiam ! Foxe, ir. p. 633. 

Hac una sententia, Deo intus in corde mco docente. Ibid. 

|| Quod tune fieri ignorabam. Ibid. 

^J Tandem de Jesu audiebam. Ibid. 
** Sic exhilaravit pectns meum. Ibid. 

T* Peccatorum conscientia saucium ac pene desperabundum HiM. 
Nesoio quantum intus tranqoiUttatem sentire. Ibid. 



164 BEGINNING OP THE REFORMATION. 

church. " I see it all," said Bilney ; " my vigils, my fasts, 
my pilgrimages, my purchase of masses and indulgences 
were destroying instead of saving me.* All these efforts 
were, as St Augustine says, a hasty running out of the right 
way." f 

Bilney never grew tired of reading his New Testament, 
He no longer lent an attentive ear to the teaching of the 
schoolmen : he heard Jesus at Capernaum, Peter in the 
temple, Paul on Mars' hill, and felt within himself that 
Christ possesses the words of eternal life. A witness to 
Jesus Christ had just been born by the same power which 
had transformed Paul, Apollos, and Timothy. The Reforma- 
tion of England was beginning. Bilney was united to the 
Son of God, not by a remote succession, but by an immediate 
generation. Leaving to the disciples of the pope the en- 
tangled chain of their imaginary succession, whose links it 
is impossible to disengage, he attached himself closely to 
Christ. The word of the first century gave birth to the six- 
teenth. Protestantism does not descend from the gospel in 
the fiftieth generation like the Romish church of the Council 
of Trent, or in the sixtieth like some modern doctors : it is 
the direct legitimate son the son of the master. 

God's action was not limited to one spot. The first rays 
of the sun from on high gilded with their fires at once the 
gothic colleges of Oxford and the antique schools of Cam- 
bridge. 

Along the banks of the Severn extends a picturesque 
country, bounded by the forest of Dean, and sprinkled with 
villages, steeples, and ancient castles. In the sixteenth cen- 
tury it was particularly admired by priests and friars, and a 
familiar oath among -them was: " As sure as God's in 
Glo'ster!" The papal birds of prey had swooped upon it. 
For fifty years, from 1484 to 1534, four Italian bishops, 
placed in succession over the diocese, had surrendered it to 
the pope, to the monks, and to immorality. Thieves in par- 
ticular were the objects of the tenderest favours of the hier- 
archy. John de Giglis, collector of the apostolical chamber. 

Didici omnes meos conatus, etc. Foxc, iv. p. 633. 
f Quod ait Augustinus, oelerem oursum extra viam. Ibid. 



WILLIAM TYNDALE. 165 

had received from the sovereign pontiff authority to pardon 
murder and theft, on condition that the criminal shared his 
profits with the pontifical commissioners.* 

In this valley, at the foot of Stinchcomb hill, to the south- 
west of Gloucester,*there dwelt, during the latter half of the 
fifteenth century, a family which had taken refuge there 
during the wars of the Roses, and assumed the name of 
Hutching. In the reign of Henry VII. the Lancasterian 
party having the upper hand, they resumed their name of 
Tyndale, which had been borne of yore by many noble 
barons.f In 1484, about a year after the birth of Luther, 
and about the time that Zwingle first saw light in the moun- 
tains of the Tockenburg, these partisans -of the red rose were 
blessed with a son, whom they called William. His youth 
was passed in the fields surrounding his native village of 
North Nibley, beneath the shadows of Berkeley Castle, or 
beside the rapid waters of the Severn, and in the midst of 
friars and pontifical collectors. He was sent very early to 
Oxford,| where he learnt grammar and philosophy in the 
school of St Mary Magdalene, adjoining the college of that 
name. He made rapid progress, particularly in languages, 
under the first classical scholars in England Grocyn, W. 
Latimer, and Linacre, and took his degrees. A more ex- 
cellent master than these doctors the Holy Spirit speaking 
in Scripture was soon to teach him a science which it is 
not in the power of man to impart. 

Oxford, where Erasmus had so many friends, was the city 
in which his New Testament met with the warmest welcome. 
The young Gloucestershire student, inwardly impelled to- 
wards the study of sacred literature, read the celebrated book 
which was then attracting the attention of Christendom. 
At first he regarded it only as a work of learning, or at most 
as a manual of piety, whose beauties were calculated to ex- 
cite religious feelings ; but erelong he found it to be some- 
thing more. The more he read it, the more was he struck 

Annals of the English Bible, i. p. 12. 

t Bigland's Glo'ster, p. 293. Annals of the English Bible, i. p. 1- 

J From a child. Foxe, Acts and Mon. T. p. 115. 

Proceeding in degrees of the schools. Ibid. 



166 EVANGELIZATION AT OXFORD. 

by the truth and energy of the word. This strange book 
spoke to him of God, of Christ, and of regeneration, with a 
simplicity and authority which completely subdued him. 
William had found a master whom he had not sought at 
Oxford this was God himself. The pages he held in his 
hand were the divine revelation so long mislaid. Possessing 
a noble soul, a bold spirit, and indefatigable activity, he did 
not keep this treasure to himself. He uttered that cry, more 
suited to a Christian than to Archimedes : gygjjxa, / have 
found it. It was not long before several of the younger 
members of the university, attracted by the purity of his life 
and the charms of his conversation,* gathered round him, 
and read with him the Greek and Latin gospels of Erasmus.-j- 
" A certain well-informed young man," wrote Erasmus in a 
letter wherein he speaks of the publication of his New Tes- 
tament, " began to lecture with success on Greek literature 
at Oxford."| He was probably speaking of Tyndale. 

The monks took the alarm. " A barbarian" continues 
Erasmus, " entered the pulpit and violently abused the Greek 
language." " These folk," said Tyndale, " wished to ex- 
tinguish the light which exposed their trickery, and they 
have been laying their plans these dozen years." This 
observation was made in 1531, and refers therefore to the 
proceedings of 1517. Germany and England were beginning 
the struggle at nearly the same time, and Oxford perhaps 
before Wittemberg. Tyndale, bearing in mind the injunc- 
tion : " When they persecute you in one city, flee ye into 
another," left Oxford and proceeded to Cambridge. It must 
needs be that souls whom God has brought to his knowledge 
should meet and enlighten one another : live coals, when 
separated, go out; when gathered together, they brighten 
up, so as even to purify silver and gold. The Romish hier- 

* His manners and conversation being correspondent to the Scriptures, 
t'oxe, Acts and Mon. v. p. 115. 

f Read privily to certain students and fellows, instructing them in tho 
knowledge and truth of tho Scriptures. Ibid. 

Oxoniae cum juvenis quidam non vulgariter doctus. Erasm. Ep. p. 
346. 

Which they have been in brewing as I hear this dozen yoars. Tyn- 
dalo's Kxpositions (Park Soc.), P- 225. 



BII-NEY TEACHES AT CAMBRIDGE. 167 

archy, not knowing what they did, were collecting the scat- 
tered brands of the Reformation. 

Bilney was not inactive at Cambridge. Not long had the 
" sublime lesson of Jesus Christ" filled him with joy, before 
he fell on his knees and exclaimed : " Thou who art the 
truth, give me strength that I may teach it : and convert 
the ungodly by means of one who has been ungodly himself."* 
After this prayer his eyes gleamed with new fire ; he had 
assembled his friends, and opening Erasmus's Testament, 
had placed his finger on the words that had reached his soul, 
and these words had touched many. The arrival of Tyndale 
gave him fresh courage, and the light burnt brighter in 
Cambridge. 

John Fryth, a young man of eighteen, the son of an inn- 
keeper of Sevenoaks in Kent, was distinguished among the 
students of King's College by the promptitude of his under- 
standing and the integrity of his life. He was as deeply 
read in the mathematics as Tyndale in the classics and Bilney 
in canon law. Although of an exact turn of mind, yet his 
soul was elevated, and he recognised in Holy Scripture a 
learning of a new kind. " These things are not demonstrated 
like a proposition of Euclid," he said ; " mere study is suf- 
ficient to impress the theories of mathematics on our minds ; 
but this science of God meets with a resistance in man that 
necessitates the intervention of a divine power. Christianity 
is a regeneration." The heavenly seed soon grew up in 
Fryth's heart.f 

These three young scholars set to work with enthusiasm. 
They declared that neither priestly absolution nor any other 
religious rite could give remission of sins ; that the assurance 
of pardon is obtained by faith alone ; and that faith purifies 
the heart. Then they addressed to all men that saying ot 
Christ's at which the monks were so offended : Repent and 
be converted ! 

Ideas so new produced A great clamour. A famous orator 

* Ut impii ad ipstim per me olim impium converterentur. Foxe, 
Acts, iv. p. 633. 

+ Through Tyndale's instructions he first received into his hear, the 
seed of the Gospel. Ibid. v. p. 4. 



168 TRUB ORDINATION. 

undertook one day at Cambridge to show that it was useless 
to preach conversion to the sinner. " Thou who, for sixty 
years past," said he, " hast wallowed in thy lusts, like a sow 
in. her mire,* dost thou think that thou canst in one year 
take as many steps towards heaven, and that in thine age, 
as thou hast done towards hell?" Bilney left the church 
with indignation. " Is that preaching repentance in the 
name of Jesus?" he asked. " Does not this priest tell us : 
Christ will not save thee.-}- Alas ! for so many years that 
this deadly doctrine has been taught in Christendom, not 
one man has dared open his mouth against it!" Many of 
^the Cambridge fellows were scandalized at Bilney*s language : 
was not the preacher whose teaching he condemned duly 
ordained by the bishop ? He replied : " What would be the 
use of being a hundred times consecrated, were it even by a 
thousand papal bulls, if the inward calling is wanting ? J To 
no purpose hath the bishop breathed on our heads if we have 
never felt the breath of the Holy Ghost in our hearts?" 
Thus, at the very beginning of the Reformation, England, 
rejecting the Romish superstitions, discerned with extreme 
nicety what constitutes the essence of consecration to the 
service of the Lord. 

After pronouncing these noble words, Bilney, who longed 
for an outpouring of the Holy Ghost, shut himself up in his 
room, fell on his knees, and called upon God to come to the 
assistance of his church. Then rising up, he exclaimed, as 
if animated by a prophetic spirit : " A new time is beginning 

The Christian assembly is about to be renewed Some 

one is coming unto us, I see him, I hear him it is Jesus 

Christ. He is the king, and it is he who will call the 

true ministers commissioned to evangelize his people." 

Tyndale. full of the same hopes as Bilney, left Cambridge 
in the course of the year 1519. i. v * 

Thus the English Reformation began independently of 

* Even as a beast iii his own dung. Bilnseus Tonstallo Episcopo ; Foxe, 
Acts, iv. p. 640. 

+ He will not be thy Jesus or Saviour. Ibid. 

Without this inward calling it helpeth nothing before God to be a 
hundred times elect and consecrated. Ibid. p. 638. 

If it bo Christ, him that -cometh unto us. Ibid. p. 637. 



ALARM OF THE CLERGY. 169 

those of Luther and Zwingle deriving its origin from God 
alone. In every province of Christendom there was a simul- 
taneous action of the divine word. The principle of the 
Reformation at Oxford, Cambridge, and London was the 
Greek New Testament, published by Erasmus. England, in 
course of time, learnt to be proud of this origin of its Refor- 
mation. 



CHAPTER III. 

Alarm of the Clergy The Two Days Thomas Man's Preaching True 
real Presence Persecutions at Coventry Standish preaches at St 
Paul's His Petition to the King and Queen His Arguments and 
Defeat Wolsey's Ambition First Overtures Henry and Francis 
Candidates for the Empire Conference between Francis I. and Sir 
T. Boleyn The Tiara promised to Wolsey The Cardinal's Intrigues 
with Charles and Francis. 

THIS revival caused great alarm throughout the Roman 
hierarchy. Content with the baptism they administered, 
they feared the baptism of the Holy Ghost perfected by faith 
in the word of God. Some of the clergy, who were full of 
zeal, but of zeal without knowledge, prepared for th*e struggle, 
and the cries raised by the prelates were repeated by all the 
inferior orders. 

The first blows did^not fall on the members of the univer- 
sities, but on those humble Christians, the relics of Wick- 
liffe's ministry, to whom the reform movement 'among the 
learned had imparted a new life. The awakening of the 
fourteenth century was about to be succeeded by that of the 
sixteenth, and the last gleams of the closing day were 
almost lost in the first rays of that which ^as commencing. 
The young doctors of Oxford and Cambridge aroused the 
attention of the alarmed hierarchy, and attracted their eyes 
to the humble Lollards, who here and there still recalled the 
days of Wickliffe. 

An artisan named Thomas Man, sometimes called Doctor 
Man, from his knowledge of Holy Scripture, had been in- 

8* H 



170 THOMAS MAN'S PREACHING. 

prisoned for his faith in the priory of Frideswide at Oxford. 
(1511 A. D.) Tormented by the remembrance of a recanta- 
tion which had been extorted from him, he had escaped from 
this monastery and fled into the eastern parts of England, 
where he had preached the Word, supplying his daily wants 
by the labour of his hands.* This "champion of God" 
afterwards drew near the capital, and assisted by his wife, 
the new Priscilla of this new Aquila, he proclaimed the doc- 
trine of Christ to the crowd collected around him in some 
" upper chamber" of London, or in some lonely meadow wa- 
tered by the Thames, or under the aged oaks of Windsor 
Forest. He thought with Chrysostom of old, that " all 
priests are not saints, but all saints are priests." -J- " He that 
receiveth the word of God," said he, " receiveth God himself; 
that is the true real presence. The vendors of masses are 
not the high-priests of this mystery ; \ but the men whom 
God hath anointed with his Spirit to be kings and priests." 
From six to seven hundred persons were converted by his 
preaching. 

The monks, who dared not as yet attack the universities, 
resolved to fall upon those preachers who made their temple 
on the banks of the Thames, or in some remote corner of the 
city. Man was seized, condemned, and burnt alive on the 
29th March 1519. 

And this was not all. There lived at Coventry a little 
band of serious Christians four shoemakers, a glover, a 
hosier, and a widow named Smith who gave their chil- 
dren a pious education. The Franciscans were annoyed that 
laymen, and even a woman, should dare meddle with reli- 
gious instruction. On Ash Wednesday (1519), Simon Mor- 
ton, the bishop's sumner, apprehended them all, men, women, 
and children. On the following Friday, t'he parents were 
taken to the abbey of Mackstock, about six miles from Co- 
ventry, and the children to the Greyfriars' convent. " Let 
us see what heresies you have been -taught?" said Friar 

* Work thereby to sustain his poor life. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 209, 

f- Chrysostom, 43 Homily on Matth. 

J He called them pilled knaves. Foie, iv. p. 209. 

Ibid. p. 211. 



THE COVENTRY MARTYRS. 171 

Stafford to the intimidated little ones. The poor children 
confessed they had been taught in English the Lord's prayer, 
the apostles' creed, and the ten commandments. On hear- 
ing this, Stafford told them angrily : " I forbid you (unless 
you wish to be burnt as your parents will be) to have any- 
thing to do with the Pater, the credo, or the ten command- 
ments in English" 

Five weeks after this, the men were condemned to be 
burnt alive ; but the judges had compassion on the widow 
because of her young family (for she was their only sup- 
port), and let her go. It was night : Morton offered to see 
Dame Smith home ; she took his arm, and they threaded 
the dark and narrow streets of Coventry. "Eh! eh!" said 
the apparitor on a sudden, "what have we here?" He 
heard in fact the noise of paper rubbing against something. 
" What have you got there ? " he continued, dropping her 
arm, and putting his hand up her sleeve, from which, he 
drew out a parchment. Approaching a window whence 
issued the faint rays of a lamp, he examined the mysterious 
scroll, and found it to contain the Lord's prayer, the apostles' 
creed, and the ten commandments in English. " Oh, oh ! 
sirrah!" said he; "come along. As good now as another 
time!"* Then seizing the poor widow by the arm, he 
dragged her befoie the bishop. Sentence of death was im- 
mediately pronounced on her ; and on the 4th of April, Dame 
Smith, Robert Hatchets, Archer, Hawkins, Thomas Bond, 
Wrigsham, and Landsdale, were burnt alive at Coventry in 
the Little Park, for the crime of teaching their children the 
Lord's prayer, the apostles' creed, and the commandments of 
God. 

But what availed it to silence these obscure lips, so long 
as the Testament of Erasmus could speak ? Lee's conspir- 
acy must be revived. Standish, bishop of St Asaph, was a 
narrow-minded man, rather fanatical, but probably sincere, 
of great courage, and not without some degree of piety. 
This prelate, being determined to preach a crusade against 
the New Testament, began at London, in St Paul's cathe- 
dral, before the mayor and corporation. " Away with these 
* Foie, Aeta, iv. p. 857. 



172 STANDISH AT ST PAUL'S. 

-new translations," he said,- " or else the religion of Jesus 
Christ is threatened with utter ruin."* But Standish was 
deficient in tact, and instead of confining himself to general 
statements, like most of his party, he endeavoured to show 
how far Erasmus had corrupted the gospel, and continued 
thus in a whining voice : " Must I who for so many years 
have been a doctor of the Holy Scriptures, and who have 
always read in my Bible : In principio erat VERBUM must 
I now be obliged to read : In principio erat SERMO ?" for 
thus had Erasmus translated the opening words of St John's 
Gospel. Risum teneatis, whispered one to another, when 
they heard this puerile charge : " My lord," proceeded the 
bishop, turning to the mayor, " magistrates of the city, and 
citizens all, fly to the succour of religion!" Standish con- 
tinued his pathetic appeals, but his oratory was all in vain ; 
some stood unmoved, others shrugged their shoulders, and 
others grew impatient. The citizens of London seemed de- 
termined to support liberty and the Bible. 

Standish, seeing the failure of his attack in the city, 
sighed and groaned and prayed, and repeated mass against 
the so much dreaded book. BuS he also made up his mind 
to do more. One day, during the rejoicings at court for the 
betrothal of the Princess Mary, then two years old, with a 
French prince who was just born, St Asaph, absorbed and 
absent in the midst of the gay crowd, meditated a bold step. 
Suddenly he made his way through the crowd, and threw 
himself at the feet of the king and queen. All were thun- 
derstruck, and asked one another what the old bishop could 
mean. " Great king," said he, " your ancestors, who have- 
reigned over this island, and yours, great queen, who 
have governed Aragon, were always distinguished by their 
zeal for the church. Show yourselves worthy of your fore- 
fathers. Times full of danger are come upon us,-j- a book 
has just appeared, and been published too by Erasmus ! It 
is such a book that, if you close not your kingdom against 
it, it is all over with the religion of Christ among us." 

* Imminere christianse religionis vKvoXir^iav, nisi novae translations 
omnes subito de medio tollerentur. Erasm. Ep. p. 596. 
f Adesso tempora longe periulosissima. Eraem. Ep. p. 597. 



HIS ARGUMENTS AND DEFEAT. 173 

The bishop ceased, and a dead silence ensued. The de- 
vout Standish, fearing lest Henry's well-known love ot 
learning should be an obstacle to his prayer, raised his eyes 
and his hands toward heaven, and, kneeling in the midst of 
the courtly assembly, exclaimed in a sorrowful tone : " 

Christ! Son of God! save thy spouse! for no man 

cometh to her help."* 

Having thus spoken, the prelate, whose courage was wor- 
thy of a better cause, rose up and waited. Every one 
strove to guess at the king's thoughts. Sir Thomas More 
was present, and he could not forsake his friend Erasmus. 
""What are the heresies this book is likely to engender?" 
he inquired. After the sublime came the ridiculous. With 
the forefinger of his right hand, touching successively the 
fingers of his left,f Standish replied : " First, this book de- 
stroys the resurrection ; secondly, it annuls the sacrament of 
marriage ; thirdly, it abolishes the mass." Then, uplifting 
his thumb and two fingers, he showed them to the assembly 
with a look of triumph. The bigoted Catherine shuddered 
as she saw Standish's three fingers, signs of the three here- 
sies of Erasmus ; and Henry himself, an admirer of Aquinas, 
was embarrassed. It was a critical moment : the Greek Tes- 
tament was on the point of being banished from England. 
" The proof, the proof," exclaimed the friends of literature. 
" I will give it," rejoined the impetuous Standish, and then 
once more touching his left thumb: "Firstly," he said,..:... 
But he brought forward such foolish reasons, that even the 
women and the unlearned were ashamed of them. The 
more he endeavoured to justify his assertions, the more con- 
fused he became : he affirmed among other things that the 
Epistles of St Paul were written in Ilebrew. " There is not 
a schoolboy that does not know that Paul's epistles were 
written in Greek" said a doctor of divinity, kneeling before 
the king. Henry, blushing for the bishop, turned the con- 
versation, and Standish, ashamed at having made a Greek 
write to the Greeks in Hebrew, would have withdrawn uu- 

* Caepit obsccrare Christum dignaretur ipse sure spons;e opitulari. 
Erasm. Ep. p. 598. 
t Et rem in digitos porrectos dispartiens. Ibid. 



174 WOLSEY'S AMBITION. 

observed. " The beetle must not attack the eagle,"* was 
whispered In his ear. Thus did the book of God remain in 
England the standard of a faithful band, who found in its 
pages the motto, which the church of Rome had usurped : 
The truth is in me alone. 

A more formidable adversary than Standish aspired to 
combat the Reformation, not only in England, but in all the 
"West. One of those ambitious designs, which easily ger- 
minate in the human heart, developed itself in the soul of 
thte chief minister of Henry VIII. ; and if this project suc- 
ceeded, it promised to secure for ever the empire of the pa- 
pacy on the banks of the Thames, and perhaps in the whole 
of Christendom. 

Wolsey, as chancellor and legate, governed both in state 
and in church, and could, without an untruth, utter his fa- 
mous Ego et rex meus. Having reached so great a height, 
he desired to soar still higher. The favourite of Henry VIII. 
almost his master, treated as a brother by the emperor, by 
the king of France, and by other crowned heads, invested 
with the title of.Majesty, the peculiar property of sovereigns,f 
the cardinal, sincere in his faith in the popedom, aspired to 
fill the throne of the pontiffs, and thus become Deus in terris. 
He thought, that if God permitted a Luther to appear in the 
world, it was because he had a Wolsey to oppose to him. 

It would be difficult to fix the precise moment when this 
immoderate desire entered his mind : it was about the end 
of 1518 that it began to show'itself. The bishop of Ely, 
ambassador at the court of Francis I., being in conference 
with that prince on the 18th of December in that year, said 
to him mysteriously : " The cardinal has an idea in his 

mind on which he can unbosom himself to nobody 

except it be to your majesty." Francis understood him. 

An event occurred to facilitate the cardinal's plans. If 
Wolsey desired to be the first priest, Henry desired to be 
the first king. The imperial crown, vacant by the death of 

* Scarabseus ille qui maximo suo malo aquilam qusesivit. Erasm. Ep. 
p. 555. 

f Consultissima tua Majestas. Vestra sublimis et longe reverendissi- 
ma Majestas, etc. Fiddes, Bodleian Papers, p. 178. 



HENRY VIII. FRANCIS I. 175 

Maximilian, was sought by two princes: by Charles of 
Austria, a cold and calculating man, caring little about the 
pleasures and even the pomp of power, but forming great 
designs, and knowing how to pursue them with energy ; and 
by Francis I., a man of less penetrating glance and less in- 
defatigable activity, but more daring and impetuous. Henry 
VIII., inferior to both, passionate, capricious, and selfish, 
thought himself strong enough to contend with such puis- 
sant competitors, and secretly strove to win " the monarchy 
of all Christendom."* Wolsey flattered himself that, hidden 
under the cloak of his master's ambition, he might satisfy 
his own. If he procured the crown of the Caesars for Henry, 
he might easily obtain the tiara of the popes for himself; if 
he failed, the least that could be done to compensate Eng- 
land for the loss of the empire, would be to give the sover- 
eignty of the church to her prime minister. 

Henry first sounded the king of France. Sir Thomas 
Boleyn appeared one day before Francis I. just as the latter 
was returning from mass. The king, desirous to anticipate 
a confidence that might be embarrassing, took the ambassa- 
dor aside to the window and whispered to him : " Some of 
the electors have offered me the empire ; I hope your master 
will be favourable to me." Sir Thomas, in confusion, made 
some vague reply, and the chivalrous king, following up his 
idea, took the ambassador firmly by one hand, and laying 
the other on his breast,-}- exclaimed : " By my faith, if I be- 
come emperor, in three years- 1 shall be in Constantinople, 
or I shall die on the road!" This was not what Henry 
wanted ; but dissembling his wishes, he took care to inform 
Francis that he would support his candidature. Upon hear- 
ing this Francis raised his hat and exclaimed : " I desire to 
see the king of England ; I will see him, I tell you, even if 
I go to London with only one page and one lackey." 

Francis was well aware that if he threatened the king's 
ambition, he must flatter the minister's, and recollecting the 
hint given by the bishop of Ely, he said one day to Boleyn : 

* Cotton MSS. Brit. Mas. Calig. D. 7, p. 88. 

t He took me hard by the wrist with one hand, and laid the other 
upon his breast. Ibid. D. 8, p. 93. 



176 THE CARDINAL'S PRACTICES. 

" It seems to me that my brother of England and I could 

do, indeed ought to do something for the cardinal. He 

was prepared by God for the good of Christendom one of 

the greatest men in the church and on the word of a 

king, if he consents, I will do it." A few minutes after he 
continued : " Write and tell the cardinal, that if he aspires 
to be the head of the church, and if anything should happen 
to the reigning pope, I will promise him fourteen cardinals 
on my part.* Let us only act in concert, your master and 
me, and I promise you, Master Ambassador, that neither pope 
nor emperor shall be created in Europe -without our consent/' 

But Henry did not act in concert with the king of France. 
At Wolsey's instigation he supported three candidates at 
once : at Paris he was for Francis I. ; at Madrid for Charles 
V. ; and at Frankfort for himself. The kings of France and 
England failed, and on the 10th August, Pace, Henry's en- 
voy at Frankfort, having returned to England, desired to 
console the king by mentioning the sums of money which 
Charles had spent. " By the mass!"f exclaimed the king, 
congratulating himself at not having obtained the crown at 
so dear a rate. Wolsey proposed to sing a Te Deum in St 
Paul's, and bonfires were lighted in the city. 

The cardinal's rejoicings were not misplaced. Charles 
had scarcely ascended the imperial throne, in despite of the 
king of France, when these two princes swore eternal hatred 
of each other, and each was anxious to win over Henry VIII. 
At one time Charles, under the pretence of seeing his uncle 
and aunt, visited England ; at another, Francis had an in- 
terview with the king in the neighbourhood of Calais. The 
cardinal shared in the flattering attentions of the two mon- 
archs. " It is easy for the king of Spain, who has become 
the head of the empire, to raise whomsoever he pleases to 
the supreme pontificate," said the young emperor to him ; 
and at these words the ambitious cardinal surrendered him- 
self to Maximilian's successor. But erelong Francis I. flat- 
tered him in his turn, and Wolsey replied also to his 

* He will assure you full fourteen cardinals for him. Cotton MSS., 
Calig. D. F. p. 98. 
f Bi the messe ! State Papers, i. 9. 



TYNDALE. 177 

advances. The king of France gave Henry tournaments 
and banquets of Asiatic luxury ; and AVolsey, whose coun- 
tenance yet bore the marks of the graceful smile with which 
he had taken leave of Charles, smiled also on Francis, and 
sang mass in his honour. He engaged the hand of the 
Princess Mary to the dauphin of France and to Charles V., 
leaving the care of unravelling the matter to futurity. 
Then, proud of his skilful practices, he returned to London 
full of hope. By walking in falsehood he hoped to attain 
the tiara : and if it was yet too far above him, there were 
certain gospellers in England who might serve as a ladder to 
reach it. Murder might serve as the complement to fraud. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Tyndale Sodbury Hall Sir John aud Lady Walsh Table-Talk The 
Holy Scriptures The Images The Anchor of Faith A Roman Camp 
Preaching of Faith and Works Tyndale accused by the Priests 
They tear up what he has planted Tyndale resolTes to translate the 
Bible His first Triumph The Priests in the Taverns Tyndale sum- 
moned before the Chancellor of Worcester Consoled by an aged Doc- 
tor Attacked by a Schoolman His Secret becomes known He leaves 
Sodbury Hall. 

WHILST this ambitious prelate was thinking of nothing but 
his own glory and that of the Roman pontificate, a great 
desire, but of a very different nature, was springing up in 
the heart of one of the humble " gospellers " of England.. If 
Wolsey had his eyes fixed on the throne of the popedom in 
order to seat himself there, Tyndale thought of raising up 
the true throne of the church by re-establishing the legiti- 
mate sovereignty of the word of God. The Greek Testa- 
ment of Erasmus had been one step ; aud it now became 
necessary to place before the simple what the king of the 
schools had given to the learned. This idea, which pursued 
the young Oxford doctor everywhere, was to be the mighty 
mainspring of the English Reformation. 

H2 



178 SODBUKY HALL. 

On the slope of Sodbury hill there stood a plain but large 
mansion, commanding an extensive view over the beautiful 
vale of the Severn, where Tyndale was born. It was inhab- 
ited by a family of gentle birth : Sir John Walsh had shone 
in the tournaments of the court, and by this means con- 
ciliated the favour of his prince. He kept open table ; and 
gentlemen, deans, abbots, archdeacons, doctors of divinity, 
and fat rectors, charmed by Sir John's cordial welcome and 
by his good dinners, were ever at his house. The former 
brother-at-arms of Henry VIII. felt an interest in the ques- 
tions then discussing throughout Christendom. Lady Walsh, 
herself a sensible and generous woman, lost not a word of 
the animated conversation of her guests, and discreetly tried 
to incline the balance to the side of truth.* 

Tyndale, after leaving Oxford and Cambridge, had returned 
to the home of his fathers. Sir John had requested him to 
educate his children, and he had accepted. William was 
then in the prime of life (he was about thirty-six), well in- 
structed in Scripture, and full of desire to show forth the 
light which God had given him. Opportunities were not 
wanting. Seated at table with all the doctors welcomed by 
Sir John,-J- Tyndale entered into conversation with them. 
They talked of the learned men of the day of Erasmus 
much, and sometimes of Luther, who was beginning to 
astonish England. ^ They discussed several questions touch- 
ing the Holy Scriptures, and sundry points of theology. 
Tyndale expressed his convictions with admirable clearness, 
supported them with great learning, and kept his ground 
against all with unbending courage. These animated con- 
versations in the vale of the Severn are one of the essential 
features of the picture presented by the Reformation in this 
country. The historians of antiquity invented the speeches 
whiok they have put into the mouths of their heroes. In 
our times history, without inventing, should make us ac- 
quainted with the sentiments of the persons of whom it 

* Lady Walsh, a stout and wise woman. Foxc, Acts, v. p. 115. 
f Who were together with Master Tyndale sitting at the same table. 
Ibid. 
J Talk of learned men, as of Luther and Erasmus, &c. Ibid. 



* TABLE-TALK AT BODBURY. 179 

treats. It is sufficient to read Tyndale's works to form 
some idea of these conversations. It is from his writings 
that the following discussion has been drawn. 

In the dining-room of the old hall a varied group was 
assembled round the hospitable table. There were Sir John 
and Lady Walsh, a few gentlemen of the neighbourhood, 
with several abbots, deans, monks, and doctors, in their re- 
spective costumes. Tyndale occupied the humblest place, 
and generally kept Erasmus's New Testament within reach 
in order to prove what he advanced.* Numerous domestics 
were moving about engaged in waiting on the guests ; and 
at length the conversation, after wandering a little, took a 
more precise direction. The priests grew impatient when 
they saw the terrible volume appear. " Your Scriptures 
only serve to make heretics," they exclaimed. "On the con- 
trary," replied Tyndale, " the source of all heresies is pride; 
now the word of God strips man of everything and leaves him 
as bare as Job."-}- " The word of God I why even we don't 
understand your word, how can the vulgar understand it?" 
" You do not understand it," rejoined Tyndale, " because you 
look into it only for foolish questions, as you would into our 
Lady's 'Matins or Merlin's Prophecies.^ Now the Scriptures 
are a clue which we must follow, without turning aside, un- 
til we arrive at Christ ; for Christ is the end." " And I 
tell you," shouted out a priest, " that the Scriptures are a 
Daedalian labyrinth, rather than Ariadne's clue a conjur- 
ing book wherein everybody finds what he wants." "Alas!" 
replied Tyndale ; " you read them without Jesus Christ ; 
that's why they are an obscure book to you. What do I 
say ? a den of thorns where you only escape from the briers 
to be caught by the brambles." || "No!" exclaimed another 
clerk, heedless of contradicting his colleague, " nothing is 

" When they at any time did vary from Tyndale in opinions and judg- 
ment, he would show them in the book. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 115. 

t Tyndale, Expositions (Park. Soc.) p. 140. 

J Ibid. p. 141. 

So along by the Scripture as by a line until thou come at Christ. 
Tynd. Works, i. 3T>4 (ed. Russell). 

H A grave of briers ; if thou loose thyself in one place tb/xi art caught 
I- other. Tyndale, Expositions, p. 5. 



180 THE ANCHOR OF FAITH. * 

obscure to us ; it is we who give the Scriptures, and we who 
explain them to you." " You would lose both your time and 
your trouble," said Tyndale ; " do you know who taught the 
eagles to find their prey?* Well, that same God teaches 
his hungry children to find their Father in his word. Far 
from having given us the Scriptures, it is you who have 
hidden them from us ; it is you who burn those who teach 
them, and if you could, you would burn the Scriptures them- 
selves." 

Tyndale was not satisfied with merely laying down the 
great principles of faith: he always sought after what he 
calls " the sweet marrow within ;" but to the divine unction 
he added no little humour, and unmercifully ridiculed the 
superstitions of his adversaries. " You set candles before 
images," he said to them ; " and since you give them light, 
why don't you give them food ? Why don't you make their 
bellies hollow, and put victuals and drink inside ?{ To serve 
God by such mummeries is treating him like a spoilt child, 
whom you pacify with a toy or with a horse made of a 
stick." J 

But the learned Christian soon returned to more serious 
thoughts ; and when his adversaries extolled the papacy as 
the power that would save the church in the tempest, he 
replied : " Let us only take on board the anchor of faith, 
after having dipped it in the blood of Christ, and when the 
storm bursts upon us, let us boldly cast the anchor into the 
sea ; then you may be sure the ship will remain safe on the 
great waters." And, in fine, if his opponents rejected any 
doctrine of the truth, Tyndale (says the chronicler) opening 
his Testament would set his finger on the verse which refuted 
the Romish error, and exclaim : " Look and read." |[ 

The beginnings of the English Reformation are not to be 
found, as we have seen, in a material ecclesiasticism, which 

* Tyndale, Answer to More (Park. Soc.), p. 49. 

f Make a hollow belly in the image. Ibid. p. 81. 

% Make him a horse of a stick. Tyndale's Works (ed. Russell), ii. 475. 

Ibid. Expositions (Park. Soc.), p. 15. 

t| And lay plainly before them the open and manifest places of the 
Scriptures, to confute their errors and confirm his sayings. JFoxe, Acts, 
v. p. 115. 



ORIGIN OP THE REFORMATION. 13 J 

has been decorated with the name of English Catholicism: 
they arc essentially spiritual, The Divine Word, the creator 
of the new life in the individual, is also the founder and re- 
former of the church. The reformed churches, and particu- 
larly the reformed churches of Great Britain, belong to 
evangelism. 

The contemplation of God's works refreshed Tyndale after 
the discussions he had to maintain at his patron's table. He 
would often ramble to the top of Sodbury hill, and there 
repose amidst the ruins of an ancient Roman camp which 
crowned the summit. It was here that Queen Margaret of 
Anjou halted ; and here too rested Edward IV., who pursued 
her, before the fatal battle of Tewkeshury, which caused this 
princess to fall into the hands of the White Rose. Amidst 
these ruins, monuments of the Roman invasion and of the 
civil dissensions of England, Tyndale meditated upon other 
battles, which were to restore liberty and truth to Christen- 
dom. Then rousing himself he would descend the hill, and 
courageously resume his task. 

Behind the mansion stood a little church, overshadowed 
by two large yew trees, and dedicated to St Adeline. On 
Sundays, Tyndale used to preach there, Sir John and Lady 
Walsh, with the eldest of the children, occupying the mano- 
rial pew. This humble sanctuary was filled by their house- 
hold and tenantry, listening attentively to the words of their 
teacher, which fell from his lips like the waters of Shiloah 
that go softl'i. Tyndale was very lively in conversation ; but 
he explained the Scriptures with so much unction, says the 
chronicler, " that his hearers thought they heard St John 
himself." If he resembled John in the mildness of his lan- 
guage, he resembled Paul in the strength of his doctrine. 
" According to the pope," he said, " we must first he good 
after his doctrine, and compel God to be good again for our 
goodnesi Nay, verily, God's goodness is the root of all 
goodness. Antichrist turncth the tree of salvation topsy- 
turvy:* he planteth the branches, and setteth the roots 
upwards. We must put it straight As the husband 

* Antichrist turneth the roots of the trees upward. Tyndale, Doc 
trinal Treatises (Park. Soc.), p. 295. 



182 TYNDALE THWARTED BY THE PRIESTS. 

marrieth the wife, before he can have any lawful children by 
her; even so faith justifieth.us to make us fruitful in good 
works.* But neither the one nor the other should remain 
barren. Faith is the holy candle wherewith we must bless 
ourselves at the last hour ; without it, you will go astray in 
the valley of the shadow of death, though you had a thousand 
tapers lighted around your bed." -f- 

The priests, irritated at such observations, determined to ruin 
Tyndale, and some of them invited Sir John and his lady to an 
entertainment, at which he was not present. During dinner, 
they so abused the young doctor and his New Testament, 
that his patrons retired greatly annoyed that their tutor 
should have made so many enemies. They told him all they 
had heard, and Tyndale successfully refuted his adversaries' 
arguments. "What!" exclaimed Lady Walsh, "there are 
some of these doctors worth one hundred, some two hundred, 

and some three hundred pounds,^ and were it reason, 

think you, Master William, that we should believe you be- 
fore them ?" Tyndale, opening the New Testament, replied 
" No ! it is not me you should believe. That is what the 
priests have told you ; but look here, St Peter, St Paul, and 
the Lord himself say quite the contrary." The word of 
God was there, positive and supreme : the sword of the spirit 
cut the difficulty. 

Before long the manor-house and St Adeline's church be- 
came too narrow for Tyndale's zeal. He preached every 
Sunday, sometimes in a village, sometimes in a town. The 
inhabitants of Bristol assembled to hear him in a large 
meadow, called St Austin's Green.|| But no sooner had he 
preached in any place than the priests hastened thither, tore 
up what he had planted,^} called him a heretic, and threatened 

* Tyndale, Parable of the Wicked Mammon. Doctrinal Treatises 
(Park. Soc.), p. 126. 

t Though thou hadst a thousand holy candles about thee. Ibid. p. 48. 

J Well, there was such a doctor who may dispend a hundred pounds. 
Foxe, Acts, v. p. 115. 

Answering by the Scriptures maintained the truth. Ibid. 

[| Ibid. p. 117. 

fl Whatsoever truth is taught them, these enemies of all truth quench 
It again. Tynd. Doe'r. Tr. p. "94. 



HE RESOLVES TO TRANSLATE THE BIBLE. 183 

to expel from the church every one who dared listen to him. 
When Tyndale returned he found the field laid waste by -the 
enemy ; and looking sadly upon it, as the husbandman who 
sees his corn beaten down by the hail, and his rich furrows 
turned into a barren waste, he exclaimed : " What is to be 
done ? While I am sowing in one place, the enemy ravages 
the field I have just left. I cannot be everywhere. Oh 1 if 
Christians possessed the Holy Scriptures in their own tongue, 
they could of themselves withstand these sophists. Without 
the Bible it is impossible to establish the laity in the truth."* 

Then a great idea sprang up in Tyndale's heart : " It was 
in the language of Israel," said he, " that the Psalms were 
sung in the temple of Jehovah ; and shall not the gospel 

speak the language of England among us? Ought the 

church to have less light at noonday than at the dawn? 

Christians must read the New Testament in their mother- 
tongue." Tyndale believed that this idea proceeded from 
God. The new sun would lead to the discovery of a new 
world, and the infallible rule would make ah 1 human diversi- 
ties give way to a divine unity. " One holdeth this doctor, 
another that," said Tyndale ; " one followeth Duns Scotus, 
another St Thomas, another Bonaventure, Alexander Hales, 
Raymond of Penaford, Lyra, Gorram, Hugh de Sancto 

Victgre, and so many others besides Now, each of these 

authors contradicts the other. How then can we distinguish 

him who says right from him who says wrong? How? 

Verily, by God's word."f Tyndale hesitated no longer 

While Wolsey sought to win the papal tiara, the 

humble tutor of Sodbury undertook to place the torch of 
heaven in the midst of his fellow-countrymen. The transla- 
tion of the Bible shall be the work of his life. 

The first triumph of the word was a revolution in the 
manor-house. In proportion as Sir John and Lady Walsh 
acquired a taste ftTr the gospel, they became disgusted with 
the priests. The clergy were not so often invited to Sod- 

* Impossible to establish the lay people in any truth, except tho Scrip- 
tare were plainly laid before their eyes in their mother-tongue. Tynd. 
Doctr. Tr. p. 394. 

+ Ibid. p. 140. 

I 



184 THE PRIESTS IN THE ALEHOUSES. 

bury, nor did they meet with the same welcome.* They 
soon discontinued their visits, and thought of nothing but 
how they could drive Tyndale from the mansion and from 
the diocese. 

Unwilling to compromise themselves in this warfare, they 
sent forward some of those light troops which the church has 
always at her disposal. Mendicant friars and poor curates, 
who could hardly understand their missal, and the most 
learned of whom made Albertus de secretis mulierum their 
habitual study, fell upon Tyndale like a pack of hungry 
hounds. They trooped to the alehouses,-j- and calling for a 
jug of beer, took their seats, one at one table, another at 
another. They invited the peasantry to drink with them, 
and entering into conversation with them, poured forth a 
thousand curses upon the daring reformer: " He's a hypo- 
crite," said one ; "he's a heretic," said another. The most 
skilful among them would mount upon a stool, and turning 
the tavern into a temple, deliver, for the first time in his life, 
an extemporaneous discourse. They reported words that 
Tyndale had never uttered, and actions that he had never 
committed. \ Rushing upon the poor tutor (he himself in- 
forms us) " like unclean swine that follow their carnal lusts," 
they tore his good name to very tatters, and shared the spoil 
among them ; while the audience, excited by their calum- 
nies and heated by the beer, departed overflowing with rage 
and hatred against the heretic of Sodbury. 

After the monks came the dignitaries. The deans and 
abbots, Sir John's former guests, accused Tyndale to the 
chancellor of the diocese, || and the storm Avhich had begun 
in the tavern burst forth in the episcopal palace. 

The titular bishop of "Worcester (an appanage of the Italian 
prelates) was Giulio de' Medici, a learned man, great politi- 
cian, and crafty priest, who already governed the popedom 

* Neither had they the cheer and countenance when they came, as before 
they had. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 116. 

f C ome together to the alehouse, which is their preaching place. Tynd 
Doctr. Tr. p. 394. 

They add too of their own heads what I never spake. Ibid. p. 395. 

Ibid. Expositions, p. 10. 

|| Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 



TYNDALE CITED BEFORE THE CHANCELLOR. 185 

without being pope.* "Wolsey, who administered the dio- 
cese for his absent colleague, had appointed Thomas Parker 
chancellor, a man devoted to the Roman church. It was 
to him the churchmen made their complaint. A judicial in- 
quiry had its difficulties ; the king's companion-at-arms was 
the patron of the pretended heretic, and Sir Anthony Poyntz, 
Lady Walsh's brother, was sheriff of the county. The chan- 
cellor was therefore content to convoke a general conference 
of the clergy. Tyndale obeyed the summons, but foreseeing 
what awaited him, he cried heartily to God, as he pursued his 
way up the banks of the Severn, " to give him strength to 
stand fast in the truth of his word."-j- 

When they were assembled, the abbots and deans, and 
other ecclesiastics of the diocese, with haughty heads and 
threatening, looks, crowded round the humble but unbending 
Tyndale. When his turn arrived, he stood forward, and the 
chancellor administered him a severe reprimand, to which he 
made a calm reply. This so exasperated the chancellor, 
that, giving way to his passion, he treated Tyndale as if he 
had been a dog.J " Where are your witnesses'?" demanded 
the latter. " Let them come forward, and I will answer 
them." Not one of them dared support the charge they 
looked another way. The chancellor waited, one witness at 
least he must have, but he could not get that. Annoyed 
at this desertion of the priests, the representative of the 
Medici became more equitable, and let the accusation drop. 
Tyndale quietly returned to Sodbury, blessing God who had 
saved him from the cruel hands of his adversaries, || and en- 
tertaining nothing but the tenderest charity towards them. 
" Take away my goods," he said to them one day, " take 
away my good name ! yet so long as Christ dwelleth in my 

* Governava il papato e havia piu zente a la sua audienzia che il papa. 
(He governed the popedom, and had more people at his audiences than 
the pope.) Relazione di Marco Foscari, 1526. 

t Foxe, Acts, v. p. 116. 

* He threatened me grievously and reviled me, and rated me as though 
I had been a dog. Tynd. Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 

And laid to my charge whereof there would be none accuser brought 
forth. Ibid. 

|| Escaping oat of their hands. Faxe, Acts, T. p. 116. 
VOL. Y. 9 



186 AN OLD DOCTOR CONSOLES HIM. 

heart, so long shall I love you not a whit the less."* Here in- 
deed is the St John to whom Tyndale has been compared. 

In this violent warfare, however, he could not fail to re- 
ceive some heavy blows ; and where could he find consola- 
tion ? Fryth and Bilney were far from him. Tyndale re- 
collected an aged doctor who lived near Sodbury, and who 
had shown him great affection. He went to see him, ami 
opened his heart to him.-{- The old man looked at him for a 
while as if he hesitated to disclose some great mystery. 
" Do you not know," said he, lowering his voice, " that the 
pope is very Antichrist, whom the Scripture speaketh of? 

But beware what you say That knowledge may cost 

you your life."| This doctrine of Antichrist, which Luther 
was at that moment enunciating so boldly, struck Tyndale. 
Strengthened by it, as was the Saxon reformer, he felt fresh 
energy in his heart, and the aged doctor was to him what 
the aged friar had been to Luther. 

When the priests saw that their plot had failed, they com- 
missioned a celebrated divine to undertake his conversion. 
The reformer replied with his Greek Testament to the 
schoolman's arguments. The theologian was speechless : at 
last he exclaimed ! " Well then ! it were better to be without 
God's laws than the 'pope's." Tyndale, who did not expect 
so plain and blasphemous a confession, made answer : " And 
I defy the pope and all his laws !" and then, as if unable to 
keep his secret, he added : " If God spares my life, I will 
take care that a ploughboy shall know more of the Scriptures 
than you do." || 

All his thoughts were now directed to the means of carry- 
ing out his plans ; and, desirous of avoiding conversations 
that might compromise them, he thenceforth passed the 
greater portion of his time in the library, ^j He prayed, lie 

" Tynd. Doctr. Tr. p. 298. 

t For to him he durst be bold to disclose his heart. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 
117. -t Ibid. Ibid. 

|| Cause a boy that driveth the plough to know more of the Scripture 
than he did. Ibid. 

U This part of the house was standing in 1839, but has since been pulled 
down. Anderson, Bible Annals, i. p. 37. We cannot but unite in the 
wish expressed in that volume, that the remainder of the building, now 
tenanted by a fermer, may be carefully preserved. 



HIS SECRET BECOMES KNOWN. 187 

read, he began his translation of the Bible, and in all proba- 
bility communicated portions of it to Sir John and Lady 
Walsh. 

All his precautions were useless: the scholastic divine 
had betrayed him, and the priests had sworn to stop him in 
his translation of the Bible. One day he fell in with a troop 
of monks and curates, who abused him in the grossest maii- 
' ner. " It's the favour of the gentry of the county that 
makes you so proud," said they ; " but notwithstanding 
your patrons, there will be a talk about you before long, and 

in a pretty fashion too! You shall not always live in a 

manor-house !" " Banish me to the obscurest corner of 
England," replied Tyndale ; " provided you will permit me 
to teach children and preach the gospel, and give me ten 

pounds a-year for my support* I shall be satisfied!" 

The priests left him, but with the intention of preparing him 
a very different fate. 

Tyndale indulged in his pleasant dreams no longer. He 
saw that he was on the point of being arrested, condemned, 
and interrupted in his great work. He must seek a retreat 
where he can discharge in peace the task God has allotted 
him. " You cannot save me from the hands of the priests," 
said lie to Sir John, " and God knows to what troubles you 
would expose yourself by keeping me in your family. Per- 
mit me to leave you." Having said this, he gathered up 
his papers, took his Testament, pressed the nands of his 
benefactors, kissed the children, and then descending the hill, 
bade farewell to the smiling banks of the Severn, and de- 
parted alone alone with his faith. What shall he do ? 
What will become of him ? Where shall he go ? He went 
forth like Abraham, one thing alone engrossing his mind : 
the Scriptures shall be translated into the vulgar tongue, 
and he will deposit the oracles of God in the midst of his 
countrymen. 

* Binding him to no more but to teach children and to preach. .F<0 
Acts, v. p. 1 17 



188 LUTHER'S WORKS IN ENGLAND. 



CHAPTER V. 

Luther's Works in England Consultation of the Bishops The Bull ol , 
Leo X. published in England Luther's Books burnt Letter of Henry 
VIII. He undertakes to write against Luther Cry of Alarm Tra- 
dition and Sacramental ism Prudence of Sir T. More The Book 
presented to the Pope Defender of the Faith Exultation of the 
King. 

WHILST a plain minister was commencing the Reformation 
in a tranquil valley in the west of England, powerful rein- 
forcements were landing on the shores of Kent. The writ- 
ings and actions of Luther excited a lively sensation in 
Great Britain. His appearance before the diet of Worms 
was a common subject of conversation. Ships from the 
harbours of the Low Countries brought his books to Lon- 
don,* and the German printers had made answer to the 
nuncio Aleander, who was prohibiting the Lutheran works 
m the empire : " Very well ! we shall send them to Eng- 
land ! " One might almost say that England was destined 
to be the asylum of truth. And in fact, the Theses of 1517, 
the Explanation of the Lord's Prayer, the books against 
Emser, against the papacy of Rome, against the bull of Anti- 
christ, the Epistle to the Galatians, the Appeal to the Ger- 
man nobility, and above all, the Babylonish Captivity of the 
Church all crossed the sea, were translated, and, circulated 
throughout the kingdom. -j- The German and English na- 
tions, having a common origin and being sufficiently alike 
at that time in character and civilisation, the works intended 
for one might be read by the other with advantage. The 
monk in his cell, the country gentleman in his hall, the 
doctor in his college, the tradesman in his shop, and even 
the bishop in his palace, studied these extraordinary writings. 

* Burnet, Hist, of the Reformation, (Lond. 1841, 8vo.) i. p. 21. 
+ Libros Lutheranos quorum magnus jam numerus pervenerat ill 
manus Anglorum. Polyd. Virg. Angl. Hist. (Basil, 1570, fol.) p. 664. 



CONSULTATION OF THE BISHOPS. 189 

The laity in particular, who had been prepared by Wickliffe 
and disgusted by the avarice and disorderly lives of the 
priests, read with enthusiasm the eloquent pages of the 
Saxon monk. They strengthened all hearts. 

The papacy was not inactive in presence of all these 
efforts. The times of Gregory VII. and of Innocent III., it is 
true, were past; and weakness and irresolution had suc- 
ceeded to the former energy and activity of the Roman pon- 
tificate. The spiritual power had resigned the dominion ol 
Europe to the secular powers, and it was doubtful whether 
faith in the papacy could be found in the papacy itself. Yc-t 
a German (Dr Eck) by the most indefatigable exertions had 
extorted a bull from the profane Leo X.,* and this bull had 
just reached England. The pope himself sent it to Henry, 
calling upon him to extirpate the Lutheran heresy. 7 The 
king handed it to Wolsey, and the latter transmitted it to 
the bishops, who, after reading the heretic's books, met to- 
gether to discuss the matter : There was more Romish faith 
in London than in the Vatican. "This false friar," ex- 
claimed Wolsey, " attacks submission to the clergy that 
fountain of all virtues." The humanist prelates were the 
most annoyed ; the road they had taken ended in an abyss, 
and they shrank back in alarm. Tonstall, the friend ot 
Erasmus, afterwards bishop of London, and who had just 
returned from his embassy to Germany where Luther had 
been painted to him in the darkest colours, was particularly 

violent : " This monk is a Proteus I mean an alheist. 

If you-allow the heresies to grow up which he is scattering 
with both hands, they will choke the faith and the church 
will perish. || Had we not enough of the Wickliffites ? here 

are new legions of the same kind! To-day Luther calls 

for the abolition of the mass; to-morrow he will ask for the 
abolition of Jesus Christ. ^[ He rejects everything, and puts 

* See above, Book VI. chap. iv. 

f Ab hoc regno extirpandum et abolendum. Cardinal. Ebor. COBI- 
missio. Strype, M. I. v. p. 22. 
Habitoque super hac re diligent! tractatu. Ibid. 

Cum illo f'rotheo imo Atheo. Erasm. Ep. p. 1158. 

|| Totarruet Ecclesia. Ibid. p. 1159. 

^1 Nisi de abolendo Christo scribere destinavit. Ibid. p. 1160. 



190 PUBLICATION OF TliK PAPAL BULL. 

nothing in its place. What ! if barbarians plunder our fron- 
tiers, we punish them and shall we bear with heretics 

who plunder our altars? No! by the mortal agony that 

Christ endured, I entreat you What am I saying'? the 

whole church conjures you to combat against this devouring 

dragon to punish this hell-dog, to silence his sinister 

howlings, and to drive him shamefully back into his den."* 
Thus spoke the eloquent Tonstall ; nor was Wolsey far be- 
hind him. The only attachment at all respectable in *his 
man was that which he entertained for the church ; it may 
perhaps be called respectable, for it was the only one that did 
not exclusively regard himself. On the 14th May 1521, this 
English pope, in imitation of the Italian pope, issued his bull 
against Luther. 

It was read (probably on the first Sunday in June) in -all 
the churches during high mass, when the congregation was 
most numerous. -j- A priest exclaimed : " For every book of 
Martin Luther's found in your possession within fifteen days 
after this injunction, you will incur the greater excommuni- 
cation." Then a public notary, holding the pope's bull in his 
hand, with a description of Luther's perverse opinions, pro- 
ceeded towards the principal door of the church and fastened 
up the document. J The people gathered round it ; the most 
competent person read it aloud, while the rest listened ; and 
the following are some of the sentences which, by the pope's 
order, resounded in the porches of all the cathedral, convent- 
ual, collegiate, and parish churches of every county in Eng- 
land^ 

" 11. Sins are not pardoned to any, unless, the priest re- 
mitting them, he believe they are remitted to him. 

" 13. If by reason of some impossibility, the contrite be 
not confessed, or the priest absolve him, not in earnest, but 
in jest ; yet if he believe that he is absolved, he is most truly 
absolved. 

* Gladio Spiritus abactum inantrum suum coges. Erasm. Ep. p. 1160. 

T Cum major convenerit multitude. Ibid. 

J In valvis seu locis publicis eccle&iae vestrse. Ibid. p. 24. ' 

Strype, M. I. p. 57, (Oxf. ed.) or Luther, xvii. p. 306. 



THE CONDEMNED OPINIONS SARCASMS OF THE PEOPLE. 191 

" 11. In the sacrament of pennnce and the remission of a 
fault, the pope or bishop doth not more than the lowest 
priest ; yea, where there is not a priest, then any Christian 
will do ; yea, if it were a woman or a child. 

" 26? The pope, the successor of Peter, is not Christ's 
vicar. 

" 28. It is not at all in the hand of the church or the pope 
to decree articles of faith, no, nor to decree the laws of man- 
ners or of good works." 

The cardinal-legate, accompanied by the nuncio, by the 
ambassador of Charles V., and by several bishops, proceeded 
in great pomp to St Paul's, where the bishop of Rochester 
preached, and Wolsey burnt Luther's books.* But they 
were hardly reduced to ashes before sarcasms and jests were 
heard in every direction. " Fire is not a theological argu- 
ment," said one. " The papists, who accuse Martin Luther 
of slaying and murdering Christians," added another, " are 
like the pickpocket, who began to cry stop thief as soon as 
he saw himself in danger of being caught." " The bishop 
of Rochester," said a third, " concludes that because Luther 
has thrown the pope's decretals into the fire, he would throw 
in the pope himself We may hence deduce another syl- 
logism quite as sound : The popes have burnt the New Tes- 
tament, therefore, if they could, they would burn Christ him- 
self." f These jests were rapidly circulated from mouth to 
mouth. It was not enough that Luther's writings were 
in England, they must needs be known, and the priests took 
upon themselves to advertise them. The Reformation was 
advancing, and Rome herself pushed behind the car. 

The cardinal saw that something more was required than 
these paper autos-da-fe, and the activity he displayed may 
indicate what he would have done in Europe if ever he 
had reached the pontifical chair. " The spirit of Satan left 
him no repose," says the papist Sanders. \ Some action out 

* See above, Book IX. chap. x. 

t They would have burnt Christ himself. Tynd. Doctr. Tr., Obedience, 
fcc. (Park.Soc.)p.221. 
^ Satanic piritu act;i . De Sobism. Angl. p. 8. 



192 HENRY WRITES AGAINST LUTHER. 

of the ordinary course is needful, thought Wolsey. Kinjr? 
have hitherto been the enemies of the popes : a king shnU 
now undertake their defence. Princes are not very anxious 

about learning, a prince shall publish a book! " Sire," 

said he to the king, to get Henry in the vein, " you dught to 
write to the princes of Germany on the subject of this her- 
esy." He did so. Writing to the Archduke Palatine, he 
said : " This fire, which has been kindled by Luther, and 
fanned by the arts of the devil, is raging everywhere. If 
Luther does not repent, deliver him and his audacious trea- 
tises to the flames. I offer you my royal co-operation, and 
even, if necessary, my life."* This was the first time Henry 
showed that cruel thirst which was in after-days to be 
quenched in the blood of his wives and friends. 

The king having taken the first step, it was not difficult 
for Wolsey to induce him to take another. To defend the 
honour of Thomas Aquinas, to stand forward as the cham- 
pion of the church, and to obtain from the pope a title 
equivalent to that of Christianissimus, most Christian king, 
were more than sufficient motives to induce Henry to break 
a lance with Luther. " I will combat with the pen this Cer- 
berus, sprung from the depths of hell,"-f- said he, " and if he 
refuses to retract, the fire shall consume the heretic and his 
heresies together." \ 

The king shut himself up in his library : all the scholastic 
tastes with which his youth had been imbued were revived ; 
he worked as if he were archbishop of Canterbury, and not 
king of England ; with the pope's permission he read Lu- 
ther's writings ; he ransacked Thomas Aquinas ; forged, 
with infinite labour, the arrows with which he hoped to 
pierce the heretic ; called several learned men to his aid, and 
at last published his book. His first words were a cry of 
alarm. " Beware of the track of this serpent," said he to his 
Christian readers ; " walk on tiptoe ; fear the thickets and 
caves in which he lies concealed, and whence he will dart his 

* Kapps Urkunden, ii. p. 458. 

+ Velut Cerberum ex inferis producit in lucem. Regis ad lectorem, 
Epist. p. 94. 
J Ut errores ejus eumque ipsum ignis exurat. Ibid. p. 95. 



TRADITION AND SACRAMENTALISM PRUDENCE OP MORE. 193 

poison on you. If he licks you, be careful ! the cunning 
viper caresses only that he may bite!"* After that Henry 
sounded a charge : " Be of good cheer ! Filled with the same 
valour that you would display against Turks, Saracens, and 
other infidels, march now against this little friar, a fellow 
apparently weak, but more formidable through the spirit that 
animates him than all infidels, Saracens, and Turks put to- 
gether." f Thus did Henry VIII., the Peter the Hermit of 
the sixteenth century, preach a crusade against Luther, in 
order to save the papacy. 

He had skilfully chosen the ground on which he gave bat- 
tle : sacramentalism and tradition are in fact the two essen- 
tial features of the papal religion ; just as a lively faith and 
Holy Scripture are of the religion of the gospel. Henry did 
a service to the Reformation, by pointing out the principles 
it would mainly have to combat ; and by furnishing Luther 
with an opportunity of establishing the authority of the 
Bible, he made him take a most important step in the path 
of reform. " If a teaching is opposed to Scripture," said the 
Reformer, " whatever be its origin traditions, custom, 
kings, Thomists, sophists, Satan, or even an angel from hea- 
ven, all from whom it proceeds must be accursed. Nothing 
can exist contrary to Scripture, and everything must exist 
for it." 

Henry's book being terminated by the aid of the bishop ol 
Rochester, the king showed it to Sir Thomas More, who 
begged him to pronounce less decidedly in favour of the pa- 
pal supremacy. " I will not change a word," replied the 
king, full of servile devotion to the popedom. " Besides, 1 
have my reasons," and he whispered them in More's ear. 

Doctor Clarke, Ambassador from England at the court of 
Rome, was commissioned to present the pope with a mag- 
nificently bound copy of the king's work. " The glory of 
England," said he, " is to be in the foremost rank among 
the nations in obedience to the papacy ."J Happily Britain 

* Qui tantum ideo lambit ut mordeat. Assertio Sept. Sacram. 
t Sed animo Turcis omnibus Sarracenis omnibus usqnam infidelibus 
nocentiorem fraterculum. Ibid. p. 147. 
J Fidde? Life of Wolscy, p. 249. 
9* 



194 DEFENDER OP THE FAITH. 

was erelong to know a glory of a very different kind. The 
ambassador added, that his master, after having refuted 
Luther's errors with the pen, was ready to combat his ad- 
herents with the sword* The pope, touched with this 
offer, gave him his foot, and then his cheek to kiss, and 
said to him : " I will do for your master's book as much 
as the church has done for the works of St Jerome and St 
Augustine." 

The enfeebled papacy had neither the power of intelli- 
gence, nor even of fanaticism. It still maintained its pre- 
' tensions and its pomp, but it resembled the corpses of the 
mighty ones of the earth that lie in state, clad in their most 
magnificent robes : splendour above, death and corruption 
below. The thunderbolts of a Hildebrand ceasing to pro- 
duce their effect, Rome gratefully accepted the defence of 
laymen, such as Henry VIII. and Sir Thomas More, with- 
out disdaining their judicial sentences and their scaffolds. 
" We must honour those noble champions," said the pope to 
his cardinals, "who show themselves prepared to cut off 
with the sword the rotten members of Jesus Christy What 
title shall we give to the virtuous king of England ? " Pro- 
tector of the Roman church, suggested one ; Apostolic kin</, 
said another; and finally, but not without some opposition, 
Henry VIII. was proclaimed Defender of the Faith. At 
the same time the pope promised ten years' indulgence to all 
readers of the king's book. This was a lure after the 
fashion of the middle ages, and which never failed in its 
effect. The clergy compared its author to the wisest of 
kings ; and the book, of which many thousand copies were 
printed, filled the Christian world (Cochla3us tells us) with 
admiration and delight. 

Nothing could equal Henry's joy. "His majesty," said 
the vicar of Croydon, " would not exchange that name for 
all London and twenty miles round." J The king's fool, 
entering the room just as his master had received the bull, 
asked him the cause of his transports. " The pope has just 

* Totius regni sui viribus et armis. Rymer, Fcedera, vi. p. 199. 

f- Putida membra ferro et material! gladio abscindere. Ibid. 

J Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 596. * 



HENRY'S EXULTATION. 195 

flamed me Defender of the Faith!" "Ho. ho! good 
Harry," replied the fool, " let yon and me defend one 

another; but take my word for it let the faith alone 

to defend itself"* An entire modern system was found in 
those words. In the midst of the general intoxication, the 
fool was the only sensible person. But Henry could listen 
to nothing. Seated on an elevated throne, with the cardinal 
at his right hand, he caused the pope's letter to be read in 
public. The trumpets sounded: Wolsey said mass; the 
king and his court took their seats around a sumptuous 
table, and the heralds at arms proclaimed: Henricus Dei 
gratia Rex Anglice et Francia?, Defensor Fidei et Dominus 
Hibcrnice ! 

'Thus was the king of England more than ever united to 
the pope: whoever brings the Holy Scriptures into his 
kingdom shall there encounter that material sword, ferrum 
et materialem gladium, in which the papacy so much de- 
lighted. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Wolsey's Machinations lo obtain the Tiara He gains Charles V. Alli- 
ance between Henry and Charles Wolsey offers to command the 
Troops Treaty of Bruges Henry believes himself King of France 
Victories of Francis I __ Death of Leo X. 



R thing only was wanting to check more surely the pro- 
giess of the gospel: Wolsey's accession to the pontifical 
throne. Consumed by the desire of reaching " the summit 
of sacerdotal unity," -j- he formed, to attain this end, one of 
the most perfidious schemes ambition ever engendered. He 
thought with others : " The end justifies the means." 

The cardinal could only attain the popedom through the 

* Fuller, book v. p. 168. 

t Umtatis sacerdotalis fastigium conscendere. Sanders, De Schism. 
Aug. 8. .. 



196 WOLSEY DESIRES THE TIARA. 

emperor or the king of France; for then, as now, it was the 
secular powers that really elected the chief of catholicity. 
After carefully weighing the influence of these two princes, 
Wolsey found that the balance inclined to the side of 
Charles, and his choice was made. A close intimacy 
of long standing united him to Francis I., hut that 
mattered little; he must betray his friend to gain his 
friend's rival. 

But this was no easy matter. Henry was dissatisfied 
with Charles the Fifth.* Wolsey was therefore obliged to 
employ every imaginable delicacy in his manoeuvres. First 
he sent Sir Richard Wingfield to the emperor; then he 
wrote a flattering letter in Henry's name to the princess- 
regent of the Low Countries. The difficulty was to get the 
king to sign it. " Have the goodness to put your name," 

said Wolsey, " even if it should annoy your Highness 

You know very well that women like to be pleased." { 

This argument prevailed with the king, who still possessed 
a spirit of gallantry. Lastly, Wolsey being named arbitra- 
tor between Charles and Francis, resolved to depart for 
Calais, apparently to hear the complaints of the two princes ; 
but in reality to betray one of them. Wolsey felt as much 
pleasure in such practices, as Francis in giving battle. 

The king of France rejected his arbitration : he had a 
sharp eye, and his mother one still sharper. " Your master 
loves me not," said he to Charles's ambassador, " and I do 
not love him any more, and am determined to be his 
enemy." J It was impossible to speak more plainly. Far 
from imitating this frankness, the politic Charles endeav- 
oured to gain Wolsey, and Wolsey, who was eager to sell 
himself, adroitly hinted at what price he might be bought. 
" If the king of England sides with me," Charles informed 
the cardinal, " you shall be elected pope at the death of Leo 
X." Francis, betrayed by Wolsey, abandoned by the 

* Hys owne affayris doith not succede with th' Emperour. Stato Pa- 
pers, vol. i. p. 10. f Ibid. p. 12. 

J He was utterly determined to be his enemy. Cotton MSS. Galba, 
B. 7, p. 35. 

Ut Wolseus mortuo Leone decimo fieret summus pontifex. 



ALLIANCE BETWEEN HENRY AND CHARLES. 197 

pope, and threatened by the emperor, determined at last to 
accept Henry's mediation. 

But Charles was now thinking of very different matters. 
Instead of a mediation, he demanded of the king of England 
4000 of his famous bowmen. Henry smiled as he read the 
despatch, and looking at Pace his secretary, and Marney 
the captain of his guards, he said : " Beati qui audiunt et 
non intelligunt I " thus forbidding them to understand, and 
above all to bruit abroad this strange request. It waa 
agreed to raise the number of archers to 6000 ; and the 
cardinal, having the tiara continually before his eyes, de- 
parted to perform at Calais the odious comedy of a hypo- 
critical arbitration. Being detained at Dover by contrary 
winds, the mediator took advantage of this delay to draw up 
a list of the 6000 archers and their captains, not forgetting 
to insert in it, " certain obstinate deer," as Henry had said, 
" that must of necessity be hunted down."* These were 
some gentlemen whom the king desired to get rid of. 

While the ambassadors of the king of France were re" 
ceived at Calais on the 4th of August with great honours, 
by the lord high chamberlain of England, the cardinal 
signed a convention with Charles's ministers that Henry 
should withdraw his promise of the Princess Mary's hand to 
the dauphin, and give her to the emperor. At the same 
time he issued orders to destroy the French navy, and to 
invade France.-}- And, finally, he procured, by way of com- 
pensating England for the pension of 16,000 pounds hitherto 
received from the court of St Germains, that the emperor 
should pay henceforward the annual sum of 40,000 marks. 
Without ready money the bargain would not have been a 
good one. 

This was not all. While Wolsey was waiting to be 
elected pope, he conceived the idea of becoming a soldier. 
A commander was wanted for the 6000 archers Henry was 
sending against the king of France ; and why should he not 
be the cardinal himself? He immediately intrigued to get 

* Sayyinge that certayne hartes were so toggidde for hym, that he 
must neadys hunte them. State Papers, i. p. 26. 
t Ibid. i. p. 23. 



198 THE TREATY OF BRUGES. 

the noblemen set aside who had been proposed as generals 
in chief. " Shrewsbury," he said to the king, " is wanted 
for Scotland Worcester by his experience is worthy that 

you should keep him near you. As for Dorset he 

will be very dear." Then the priest added : " Sire, if during 
my sojourn on the other side of the sea, you have good 

reason to send your archers I hasten to inform you that 

whenever the emperor takes the command of his soldiers, I 
am ready, although an ecclesiastic,* to put myself at the 
head of yours." What devotedness! Wolsey would cause 
his cross of cardinal a latere to be carried before him (he 
said); and neither Francis nor Bayard would be able to 
resist him. To command at the same time the state, the 
church, and the army, while awaiting the tiara, to sur- 
round his head with laurels : such was this man's ambition. 
Unfortunately for him, they were not of that opinion at 
court. The king made the earl of Essex commander-in- 
chief. 

As Wolsey could not be general, he turned to diplomacy. 
He hastened to Bruges ; and as he entered at the emperor's 
side, a voice was heard above the crowd, exclaiming, Salve, 
Hex regis tui atque regni sui ! -j- a sound most pleasing to 
his ears. People were very much astonished at Bruges by 
the intimacy existing between the cardinal and the emperor. 
" There is some mystery beneath it all," they said.:]: Wolsey 
desired to place the crown of France on Henry's head, and 
the tiara on his own. Such was the mystery, which was 
well worth a few civilities to the mighty Charles V. The 
alliance was concluded, and the contracting parties agreed 
" to avenge the insults offered to the throne of Jesus 
Christ," or in other words, to the popedom. 

Wolsey, in order to drag Henry into the intrigues which 
were to procure him the tiara, had reminded him that he was 
king of France, and the suggestion had been eagerly caught 
at. At midnight, on the 7th of August, the king dictated 

* Though I be a spiritual man. State Papers, i. p. 31. 
f Hail, both king of thy king and also of his kingdom. Tynd. Expos. 
p. 314. 
J There was a certain secret whereof all men knew not. Ibid. p. 316. 



HENRY'S DESIGNS ON FUANX-E. 199 

to his secretary a letter for Wolsey containing this strange 
expression : Si ibitis parare regi locum in rcgno ejus hfredi~ 
tario, Majestas ejus quiim tempus erit opportunum, scqwtvr* 
The theologian who had corrected the famous latin book of 
the king's against Luther most certainly had not revised 
this phrase. According to Henry, France was his heredi- 
tary kingdom, and Wolsey was going to prepare the tlirouy 

for him The king could not restrain his joy at the mere 

idea, and already he surpassed in imagination both Edward 
III. and the Black Prince. " I am about to attain a glory 
superior to that which my ancestors have gained by so many 
wars and battles." { Wolsey traced out for him the road to 
his palace on the banks of the Seine : " Mezieres is about 
to fall ; afterwards there is only Rheims, which is not a 
strong city ; and thus your grace will very easily reach 
Paris." \ Henry followed on the map the route he would 
have to take : " Affairs are going on well," wrote the cardi- 
nal, " the Lord be praised." In him this Christian language 
was a mere official formality. 

Wolsey was mistaken : things were going on badly. On 
the 20th of October 1522, Francis I. whom so much perfidy 
had been unable to deceive, Francis, ambitious and turbu- 
lent, but honest in this matter at least, and confiding in the 
strength of his arms, had suddenly appeared between Cam- 
bray and Valenciennes. The emperor fled to Flanders in 
ularm, and Wolsey, instead of putting himself at the head of 
the army, had shielded himself under his arbitrators cloak. 
Writing to Henry, who, a fortnight before, had by his advice 
excited Charles to attack France, he said : " I am confident 
that your virtuous mediation will greatly increase your repu- 
tation and honour throughout Christendom." Francis re- 
jected Wolsey's offers, but the object of the latter was attained. 
The negotiations had gained time for Charles, and bad 
weather soon stopped the French army. Wolsey returned 

* If you go to prepare a place for the king in his hereditary kingdom, 
his majesty will follow you at a fitting season. State Papers, i. 36. 

t Majora assequi quam omnes ipsius progenitores tot bellis et prsjliis. 
State Papers, i. 45. 

J Your grace shall have but a leyre wey to Parys. Ibid. 46. 

Cotton MSS. Calig. D. 8, p. 85. 



200 WOLSEY'S PRACTICES. 

satisfied to London about the middle of December. It was 
true that Henry's triumphant entry into Paris became very 
difficult ; but the cardinal was sure of the emperor's favour, 
and through it (he imagined) of the tiara. Wolsey had done, 
therefore, what he desired. He had hardly arrived in Eng- 
land when there came news which raised him to the height 
of happiness : Leo X. was dead. His joy surpassed what 
Henry had felt at the thought of his hereditary kingdom. 
Protected by the powerful Charles V., to whom he had sacri- 
ficed everything, the English cardinal was at last o.n the 
point of receiving that pontifical crown which would permit 
him to crush heresy, and which was, in his eyes, the just 
reward of so many infamous transactions. 



CHAPTER VII. 

The Just Men of Lincolnshire Their Assemblies and Teaching Agnes 
and Morden Itinerant Libraries Polemical Conversations Sarcasm 
Royal Decree and Terror Depositions and Condemnations Four 
Martyrs A Conclave Charles consoles Wolsey. 

WOLSEY did not stay until he was pope, before persecuting 
the disciples of th'e word of God. Desirous of carrying out 
the stipulations of the convention at Bruges, he had broken 
out against " the king's subjects who disturbed the apostolic 
see." Henry had to vindicate the title conferred on him by 
the pope ; the cardinal had. to gain the popedom ; and both 
could satisfy their desires by the erection of a few scaffolds. 
In the county of Lincoln on the shores of the North Sea, 
along the fertile banks of the Humber, Trent, and Witham, 
and on the slopes of the smiling hills, dwelt many peaceful 
Christians labourers, artificers, and shepherds who spent 
their days in toil, in keeping their flocks, in doing good, and 
in reading the Bible.* The more the gospel-light increased 
in England, the greater was the increase in the number of 
* Being simple labourers and artificers. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 240, 



PERSLCJUTIONS IN LIXCOLNSIIIKE. 201 

these children of peace.* These " just men," as they were 
called, were devoid of human knowledge, but they thirsted 
for the knowledge of God. Thinking they were alone the 
true disciples of the Lord, they married only* among them- 
selves.-}- They appeared occasionally at church ; but instead 
of repeating their prayers like the rest, they sat, said their 
enemies, " mum like beasts." J On Sundays and holidays, 
they assembled in each other's houses, and sometimes passed 
a whole jiight in reading a portion of Scripture. If there 
chanced to be few books among them, one of the brethren, 
who had learnt by heart the epistle of St James, the begin- 
ning of St Luke's gospel, the sermon on the mount, or an 
epistle of St Paul's, would recite a few verses in a loud and 
calm voice ; then all would piously converse about the holy 
truths of the faith, and exhort one another to put them in 
practice. But if any person joined their meetings, who did 
not belong to their body, they would all keep silent. Speak- 
ing much among each other, they were speechless before 
those from without : fear of the priests and of the fagot made 
them dumb. There was no family rejoicing without the 
Scriptures. At the marriage of a daughter of the aged Dur- 
dant, one of their patriarchs, the wedding party met secretly 
in a barn, and read the whole of one of St Paul's epistles. 
Marriages are rarely celebrated with such pastimes as this ! 
Although they were dumb before enemies or suspected 
persons, these poor people did not keep silence in the pre- 
sence of the humble ; a glowing proselytism characterized 
them all. " Come to my house," said the pious Agnes Ash- 
ford to James Morden, " and I will teach you some verses 
of Scripture." Agnes was an educated woman ; she could 
read ; Morden came, and the poor woman's chamber was 
transformed into a school of theology. Agnes began : " Ye 
are the salt of the earth," and then recited the following 



* As the light of the gospel began more to appear, and the numbers ol 
professors to grow. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 217. 

f Did contract matrimony only with themselves. Ibid. p. 223. 

J Ibid. p. 225. 

If any came in among them that were not of their side, then tbej 
would keep all silent. Ibid. p. 222. 

i2 



202 ITINERANT LIBRARIES. 

verses.* Five times did Morden return to Agnes before he 
knew that beautiful discourse. " We are spread like salt 
over the various parts of the kingdom," said this Christian 
woman to the neophyte, " in order that we may check the 
progress of superstition by our doctrine and our life. But," 
added she in alarm, " keep this secret in your heart, as a 
man would keep a thief in prison." -J- 

As books were rare, these pious Christians had established 
a kind of itinerant library, and one John Scrivener was con- 
tinually engaged in carrying the precious volumes from one 
to another. | But at times, as he was proceeding along the 
banks of the river, or through the forest glades, he observed 
that he was followed. He would quicken his pace and run 
into some barn, where the friendly peasants promptly hid him 
beneath the straw, or, like the spies of Israel, under the stalks 
of flax. The bloodhounds arrived, sought and found noth- 
ing ; and more than once those who so generously harboured 
these evangelists cruelly expiated the crime of charity. 

The disappointed officers had scarcely retired from the 
neighbourhood when these friends of the word of God came 
out of their hiding-place, and profited by the moment of 
liberty to assemble the brethren. The persecutions they suf- 
fered irritated them against the priests. They worshipped 
God, read and sang with a low voice ; but when the conver- 
sation became general, they gave free course to their indig- 
nation. " Would you know the use of the pope's pardons ? " 
said one of them ; " they are to blind the eyes and empty 
the purse." " True pilgrimages," said the tailor Geoffrey of 
Uxbridge, " cpnsist in visiting the poor and sick barefoot, 
if so it please you for these are the little ones that are 
God's true image." " Money spent in pilgrimages," added 
a third, "serves only to maintain thieves and harlots." || 
The women were often the most animated in the controversy. 
" What need is there to go to the feet" said Agnes Ward, 
who disbelieved in saints, " when we may go to the head ? "^[ 

* Matth. v. 13-16. 

t Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 225. 

J Carrying about books from one to another. Ibid. p. 224 ( 

Hiding others in their barns. Ibid. p. 243. 

!l Ibid. f Ibid. p. 229. 



THE ROYAL DECREE. 203 

" The clergy of the good old times," said the wife of David 
Lewis, " used to lead the people as a hen leadeth her chick- 
ens;* but now if our priests lead their flocks anywhere, it 
is to the devil assuredly." 

Erelong there was a general panic throughout this dis- 
trict. The king's confessor John Longland was bishop of 
Lincoln. This fanatic priest, Wolsey's creature, took advan- 
tage of his position to petition Henry for a severe persecu- 
tion : this was the ordinary use in England, France, and 
elsewhere, of the confessors of princes. It was unfortunate 
that among these pious disciples of the word men of a cyni- 
cal turn were now and then met with, whose biting sarcasms 
went beyond all bounds. Wolsey and Longland knew how 
to employ these expressions in arousing the king's anger. 
" As one of -these fellows," they said, " was busy beating out 
his corn in his barn, a man chanced to pass by. ' Good 
morrow, neighbour,' (said the latter), ' you are hard at it!' 
' Yes,' replied the old heretic, thinking of transubstantia- 
tion, ' I am thrashing the corn out of which the priests make 
God Almighty.'" -|- Henry hesitated no longer. 

On the 20th October 1521, nine days after the bull on 
the Defender of the Faith had been signed at Rome, the 
king, who was at Windsor, summoned his secretary, and 
dictated an order commanding all his subjects to assist the 
bishop of Lincoln against the heretics. " You will obey it 
at the peril of your lives," added he. The order was trans- 
mitted to Longland, and the bishop immediately issued his 
^warrants, and his officers spread terror far and wide. "When 
they beheld them, these peaceful but timid Christians were 
troubled. Isabella Bartlet, hearing them approach her cot- 
tage, screamed out to her husband : " You are a lost man ! 
and I am a dead woman !"J This cry was re-echoed from 
all the cottages of Lincolnshire. The bishop, on his judg- 
ment-seat, skilfully played upon these poor unhappy beings 
to make them accuse one another. Alas ! according to the 

* Foxe, Acts, ir. p. 224. 

f I thresh God Almighty out of the straw. Ibid. p. 222. 
J Alas ! now are you an undone man, and I but a dead woman. Ibid. 
p. 224. 



204 THE BISHOP'S TRIBUNAL. 

ancient prophecy : " the brother delivered up the brother tc 
death." Robert Bartlet deposed against his brother Richard 
and his own wife ; Jane Bernard accused her own father, 
and Tredway his mother. It was not until after the most 
cruel anguish that these poor creatures were driven to such 
frightful extremities ; but the bishop and death terrified 
them : a small number alone remained firm. As regards 
heroism, Wickliffe's Reformation brought but a feeble aid to 
the Reformation of the sixteenth century ; still if it did not 
furnish many heroes, it prepared the English people to love 
God's word above all things. Of these humble people, some 
were condemned to do penance in different monasteries ; 
others to .carry a fagot on their shoulders thrice round the 
market-place, and then to stand some time exposed to the 
jeers of the populace ; others were fastened to a post while 
the executioner branded them on the cheek with a red-hot 
iron. They also had their martyrs. Wickliffe's revival had 
never been without them. Four of these brethren were 
chosen to be put to death, and among them the pious evan- 
gelical colporteur Scrivener. By burning him to ashes the 
clergy desired to make sure that he would no longer circulate 
the word of God ; and by a horrible refinement of cruelty 
his children were compelled to set fire to the pile that was 
to consume their father.* They stretched forth their trem- 
bling hands, held in the strong grasp of the executioners 

Poor children! But it is easier to burn the limbs of 

Christians than to quench the Spirit of Heaven. These 
cruel fires could not destroy among the Lincolnshire peas- 
antry that love of the Bible, which in all ages has been 
England's strength, far more than the wisdom of her sena- 
tors or the bravery of her generals. 

Having by these exploits gained indisputable claims to 
the tiara, Wolsey turned his efforts towards Rome. Leo 
X., as we have seen, was just dead (1522). The cardinal 
sent Pace to Rome, instructing him to "represent to the 
cardinals that by choosing a partisan of Charles or Francis 
they will incur the enmity of one or the other of these princes, 
and that if they elect some feeble Italian priest, the apos(ol~ 
* Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 245. 



WOL8EY LOSES THE TIAR.^ 205 

real see must become the prey of the strongest. Luther's 
revolt and the emperor's ambition endanger the papacy. 
There is only one means of preventing the threatening dan- 
gers ...... It is to choose me ...... Now, go and exert yourself."* 

The conclave opened at Rome on the 27th December, and 
Wolsey was proposed ; but the cardinals were not generally 
favourable to his election. " He is too young," said one ; 
" too firm," said another. " He will fix the scat of the 
papacy in England and not in Rome," urged many. He 
did not receive twenty votes. " The cardinals," wrote the 
English ambassador, " snarled and quarrelled with each 
other ; and their bad faith and hatred increased every day." 
On the sixth day, only one dish was sent them ; and then in 
despair they chose Adrian, who had been tutor to the em- 
peror, and the cry was raised : Papam habemus ! 

During all this time Wolsey was in London, consumed by 
ambition, and counting the days and hours. At length a 
despatch from Ghent, dated the 22d January, reached him 
with these words : " On the 9th of January, the cardinal of 
Tortosa was elected!" ...... Wolsey was almost distracted. 

To gain Charles, he had sacrificed the alliance of Francis I. ; 
there was no stratagem that he had not employed, and yet 
Charles, in spite of his engagements, had procured the elec- 
tion of his tutor! ...... The emperor knew what must be the 

cardinal's anger, and endeavoured to appease it : " The new 
pope," he wrote, " is old and sickly ;-{- he cannot hold his 
office long ...... Beg the cardinal of York for my sake to take 

great care of his health" 

Charles did more than this : he visited London in person, 
under pretence of his betrothal with Mary of England, and, in 
the treaty then drawn up, he consented to the insertion of 
an article by virtue of which Henry VIII. and the mighty 
emperor bound themselves, if either should infringe the 
treaty, to appear before Wolsey and to submit to his deci- 



* The sole way ...... was to chuse him. Herbert, p. 110. 

+ The new elect is both old, sickly ......... so that he shall not have the 

office long. Cotton MSS. Galba. B. vii. p. 6. 



206 ^CHARACTER OF TYNDALE. 

eions.* The cardinal, gratified by such condescension, grew 
calm ; and at the same time he was soothed with the most 
flattering hopes. " Charles's imbecile preceptor," they told 
him, "has arrived at the Vatican, attended only by his 
female cook ; you shall soon make your entrance there sur- 
rounded by all your grandeur." To be certain of his game, 
Wolsey made secret approaches to Francis I., and then wait- 
ed for the death of the pope.f 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Character of Tyndale He arrives in London He preaches The Cloth 
and the Ell The Bishop of London gives Audience to Tyndale He is 
dismissed A Christian Merchant of London Spirit of Love in the Re- 
formation Tyndale in Monmouth's House Fry th helps him to tran- 
slate the New Testament Importunities of the Bishop of Lincoln 
Persecution in London Tyndale's Resolution He departs His In- 
dignation against the Prelates His Hopes. 

WHILE the cardinal was intriguing to attain his selfish ends, 
Tyndale was humbly carrying out the great idea of giving 
the Scriptures of God to England. 

After bidding a sad farewell to the manor-house of Sod- 
bury, the learned tutor had departed for London. This 
occurred about 'the end of 1522 or the beginning of 1523. 
He had left the university he had forsaken the house of 
his protector ; his wandering career was about to commence, 
but a thick veil hid from him all its sorrows. Tyndale, a 
man simple in his habits, sober, daring, and generous, fear- 
ing neither fatigue nor danger, inflexible in his duty, anoint- 
ed with the Spirit of God, overflowing with love for his 
brethren, emancipated from human traditions, the servant ol 
God alone, and loving nought but Jesus Christ, imagina- 

* Both princes appearing before the cardinal of York as judge. Art. 
si ii. Herbert, p. 118. 
f Mortem etiam Adriani expectat. Sanders, p. 8. 



TYNDALE ARRIVES IN LONDON. 207 

live, quick at repartee, and of touching eloquence sucli a 
man might have shone in the foremost ranks ; but he pre- 
ferred a retired life in some poor corner, provided he could 
give his countrymen the Scriptures of God. Where could 
he find this calm retreat? was the question he put to himself 
as he was making his solitary way to London. The me- 
tropolitan see was then filled by Cuthbert Tonstalr} who was 
more of a statesman and a scholar than of a churchman, 
" the first of English men in Greek and Latin literature," 
said Erasmus. This eulogy of the learned Dutchman oc- 
curred to Tyndale's memory.* It was the Greek Testament 
of Erasmus that led me to Christ, said he to himself; why 
should not the house of Erasmus's friend offer me a shelter 

that I may translate it At last he reached London, and, 

a stranger in that crowded city, he wandered along the 
streets, a prey by turns to hope and fear. 

Being recommended by Sir John Walsh to Sir Harry 
Guildford, the king's comptroller, and by him to several 
priests, Tyndale began to preach almost immediately, espe- 
cially at St Dunstan's, and bore into the heart of the capital 
the truth which had been banished from the banks of the 
Severn. The word of God was with him the basis of salva- 
tion, and the grace of God its essence. His inventive mind 
presented the truths he proclaimed in a striking manner. 
He said on one occasion : " It is the blood of Christ that 
opens the gates of heaven, and not thy works. I am wrong 

Yes, if thou wilt have it so, by thy good works shalt 

thou be saved. Yet, understand me well, not by those 
which thou hast done, but by those which Christ has done 
for thee. Christ is in thee and thou in him, knit together 
inseparably. Thou canst not be damned, except Christ be 
damned with thee ; neither can Christ be saved except thou 
be saved with him."f This lucid view of justification by 
faith places Tyndale among the reformers. He did not take 
his seat on a bishop's throne, or wear a silken cope ; but he 
mounted the scaffold, and was clothed with a garment of 

* As I thus thought, the bishop of London came to my remembrance. 
Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 
t Ibid. p. 79. 



208 TYNDALE IS RECOMMENDED TO TONSTALL. 

flames. In the service of a crucified Saviour this latter dis- 
tinction is higher than the former.* 

Yet the translation was his chief business ; he spoke to 
his acquaintances about it, and some of them opposed his 
project. " The teachings of the doctors," said some of the 
city tradesmen, " can alone make us understand Scripture." 
" That is*to say," replied Tyndale, " I must measure the 
yard by the cloth* Look here," continued he, using a 
practical argument, " here are in your shop twenty pieces of 

stuff of different lengths Do you measure the yard by 

these pieces, or the pie'ces by the yard? The universal 

standard is Scripture." This comparison was easily fixed in 
the minds of the petty tradesmen of the capital. 

Desirous of carrying out his project, Tyndale aspired to 
become the bishop's chaplain ; { his ambition was more 
modest than Wolsey's. The Hellenist possessed qualities 
which could not fail to please the most learned of English- 
men in Greek literature : Tonstall and Tyndale both liked 
and read the same authors. The ex-tutor determined to 
plead his cause through the elegant and harmonious dis- 
ciple of Radicus and Gorges: ".Here is one of Isocrates' 
orations that I have translated into Latin," said he to Sir 
Harry Guildford ; " I should be pleased to become chaplain 
to his lordship the bishop of London ; will you beg him .to 
accept this trifle. Isocrates ought to be an excellent recom- 
mendation to a scholar ; will you be good enough to add 
yours." Guildford spoke to the bishop, placed the transla- 
tion in his hands, and Tonstall replied with that benevolence 
which he showed to every one. " Your business is in a 
fair way," said the comptroller to Tyndale ; " write a letter 
to his lordship, and deliver it yourself." J 

Tyndale's hopes now began to be realized. He wrote his 
letter ,in the best style, and then, commending himself to 
God, proceeded to the episcopal palace. He fortunately 
knew one of the bishop's officers, William Hebilthwayte, to 

* Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 153. 

) He laboured to be his chaplain. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 617. 
% He willed me to write an epistle to my lord, and to go to him myself, 
(bid. 



INTERVIEW WITH THE BISHOP OF LONDON. 209 

whom he gave the letter. Hebilthwayte carried it to his 
lordship, while Tyndale waited. His heart throbbed with 
anxiety : shall he find at last the long hoped for asylum ? 
The bishop's answer might decide the whole course of his 
life. If the door is opened, if the translator of the Scrip- 
tures should be settled in the episcopal palace, why should 
not his London patron receive the truth like his patron at 
Sodbury ? and, in that case, what a future for the church 

and for the kingdom! The Reformation was knocking at 

the door of the hierarchy of England, and the latter was 
about to utter its yea or its nay. After a few moments' 
absence Hebilthwayte returned : " I am going to conduct 
you to his lordship." Tyndale fancied himself that he had 
attained his wishes. 

The bishop was too kind-hearted to refuse an audience to 
a man who called upon him with the triple recommendation 
of Isocrates, of the comptroller, and of the king's old com- 
panion in arms. He received Tyndale with kindness, a little 
tempered however with coldness, as if he were a man whose 
acquaintanceship might compromise him. Tyndale having 
made known his wishes, the bishop hastened to reply: 
" Alas ! my house is full ; I have now more people than I 
can employ."* Tyndale was discomfited by this answer. 
The bishop of London was a learned man, but wanting in 
courage and consistency; he gave his right hand to the 
friends of letters and of the gospel, and his left hand to the 
friends of the priests ; and then endeavoured to walk with 
both. But when he had to choose between the two parties, 
clerical interests prevailed. There was no lack of bishops, 
priests, and laymen about him, who intimidated him by their 
clamours. After taking a few steps forward, he suddenly 
recoiled. Still Tyndale ventured to hazard a word ; but the 
prelate was cold as before. The humanists, who laughed at 
the ignorance of the monks, hesitated to touch an ecclesias- 
tical system which lavished on them such rich sinecures. 
They accepted the new ideas in theory, but not in practice. 
They were very willing to .discuss them at table, but not to 

* My lord answered me, his house was full. Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 
385. 

VOL. V. 1 



210 THE LONDON MERCHANT. 

proclaim them from the pulpit ; and covering the Greek Testa- 
ment with applause, they tore it in pieces when rendered 
into the vulgar tongue. " If you will look well about Lon- 
don," said Tonstall coldly to the poor priest, " you will not 
fail to meet with some suitable employment." This was all 
Tyndale could obtain. Hebilthwayte waited on him to the 
door, and the Hellenist departed sad and desponding. 

His expectations were disappointed. Driven from the 
banks of the Severn, without a home in the capital, what 
would become of the translation of the Scriptures ? " Alas ! " 

he said ; " I was deceived * there is nothing to be looked 

for from the bishops Christ was smitten on the cheek 

before the bishop, Paul was buffeted before the bishop -j- 

and a bishop has just turned me away." His dejection did 
not last long : there was an elastic principle in his soul. " I 
hunger for the word of God," said he, " I will translate it, 
whatever they may say or do. God will not suffer me to 
perish. He never made a mouth but he made food for it, 
nor a body, but he made raiment also." ^ 

This trustfulness was not misplaced. It was the privilege 
of a layman to give what the bishop refused. Among Tyn- 
dale's hearers at St Dunstan's was a rich merchant named 
Humphrey Monmouth, who had visited Rome, and to whom 
(as well as to his companions) the pope had been so kind 
as to give certain Roman curiosities, such as indulgences, 
a culpd et a poend. Ships laden with his manufac- 
tures every year quitted London for foreign countries. He 
had formerly attended Colet's preaching at St Paul's, and 
from the year 1515 he had known the word of God. He 
was one of the gentlest and most obliging men in England ; 
he kept open house for the friends of learning and of the 
gospel, and his library contained the newest publications. 
In putting on Jesus Christ, Monmouth had particularly 
striven to put on his character ; he helped generously with 

* I was beguiled. Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 395. 
+ Expositions, p. 59. 
Tyndale and Fryth's Works, ii. p. 349. 

The rich man began to be a Scripture man. Latimer's Sermons, 
p. 440 (Park. Soe.) 



A RICH AND A POOR MAN. _' 1 1 

his purse both priests and men of letters; lie gave forty 
pounds sterling to the chaplain of the bishop of London, the 
'same to the king's, to the provincial of the Augustines, and 
to others besides. Latimer, who sometimes dined with him, 
once related in the pulpit an anecdote characteristic of the 
friends of the Reformation in England. Among the regular 
guests at Monmouth's table was one of his poorest neigh- 
bours, a zealous Romanist, to whom hjs generous host often 
used to lend money. One day when -the pious merchant 
was extolling Scripture and blaming popery, his neighbour 
turned pale, rose from the table, and left the room. " I will 
never set foot in his house again," he said to his friends. 
" and I will never borrow another shilling of him."* He 
next went to the bishop and laid an informatipn against his 
benefactor. Monmouth forgave him, and tried to bring him 
back ; but the neighbour constantly turned out of his .way. 
Once, however, they met in a street so narrow that he could 
not escape. " I will pass by without looking at him," said the 
Romanist turning away his head. But Monmouth went 
straight to him, took him by the hand, and said affection- 
ately : " Neighbour, what wrong have I done you ?" and he 
continued to speak to him with so much love, that the poor 
man fell on his knees, burst into tears, and begged his for- 
giveness.-{- Such was the spirit which, at the very outset, 
animated the work of the Reformation in England : it was 
acceptable to God, and found favour with the people. 

Monmouth being edified by Tyndale's sermons, inquired 
into his means of living. " I have none," f replied he, " but 
I hope to enter into the bisnop's service." This was before 
his visit to Tonstall. When Tyndale saw all his hopes frus- 
trated, he went to Monmouth and told him everything. 
" Come and live with me," said the wealthy merchant, " and 
there labour." God did to Tyndale according to his faith. 
Simple, frugal, devoted to work, he studied night and day ; 
and wishing to guard his mind against " being overcharged 

with surfeiting," he refused the delicacies of his patron's 



* Latimer's Works, i. p. 441. He would borrow no [more] money of 
him. t Ibid. J Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 617. 

Strype, Records, i. p. 664. 



212 FRYTH JOINS TYNDALE. 

table, and would take nothing but sodden meat and small 
beer.* It would even seem that he carried simplicity in 
dress almost too far.f By his conversation and his works, 
he shed over the house of his patron the mild light of the 
Christian virtues, and Monmouth loved him more and more 
every day. 

Tyndale was advancing in his work when John Fryth, the 
mathematician of King's College, Cambridge, arrived in Lon- 
don. It is probable that Tyndale, feeling the want of an 
associate, had invited him. United like Luther and Me- 
lancthon, the two friends held many precious conversations 
together. " I will consecrate my life wholly to the church 
of Jesus Christ," said Fryth.:j: " To be a good man, you 
must give great part of yourself to your parents, a greater 
part to your country ; but the greatest of all to the church 
of the Lord." " The people should know the word of God," 
they said both. " The interpretation of the gospel, without 
the intervention of councils or popes, is sufficient to create a 
saving faith in the heart." They shut themselves up in the 
little room in Monmouth's house, and translated chapter 
after chapter from the Greek into plain English. The bishop 
of London knew nothing of the work going on a few yards 
from him, and everything was succeeding to Tyndale's wishes 
when it was interrupted by an unforeseen circumstance. 

Longland, the persecutor of the Lincolnshire Christians, 
did not confine his activity within the limits of his diocese ; 
he besieged the king, the cardinal, and the queen with his 
cruel importunities, using Wolsey's influence with Henry, 
and Henry's with Wolsey. " H\s majesty," he wrote to the 
cardinal, " shows in this" holy dispute as much goodness as 

zeal yet, be pleased to urge him to overthrow God's 

enemies." And then turning to the king, the confessor said, 
to spur him on : " The cardinal is about to fulminate the 
greater excommunication against all who possess Luther's 

" Strype, Records, i. p. 6G4. He would eat sodden meat and 
drink but small single beer. 

J- He was never seen in that house to wear linen about him*. Ibid. 

J Tyndale and Fryth's Works, ii\. p. 73, 74. 

That the poor people might also read and see the simple plain word 
of God. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 118. 



LONGLAND'S IMPORTUNITIES. 213 

works or hold his opinions, and to make the booksellers sign 
a bond before the magistrates, not to sell heretical books." 
" Wonderful ! " replied Henry with a sneer, " they will fear 
the magisterial bond, I think, more than the clerical excom- 
munication." And yet the consequences of the " clerical" 
excommunication were to be very positive ; whosoever per- 
severed in his offence was to be pursued by the law ad ignem, 
even to the fire.* At last the confessor applied to the queen : 
" We cannot be sure of restraining the press," he said to 
her. " These wretched books come to us from Germany, 
France, and the Low Countries ; and are even printed in 
the very midst of us. Madam, we must train and prepare 
skilful men, such as are able to discuss the controverted 
points, so that the laity, struck on the one hand by well de- 
veloped arguments, and frightened by the fear of punishment 
on the other, may be kept in obedience." -}- In the bishop's 
system, " fire " was to be the complement of Roman learn- 
ing. The essential idea of Jesuitism is already visible in 
this conception of Henry the Eighth's confessor. That sys- 
tem is the natural development of Romanism. 

Tonstall, urged forward by Longland, and desirous of 
showing himself as holy a churchman as he had once been a 
skilful statesman and elegant scholar Tonstall, the friend of 
Erasmus, began to persecute. He would have feared to shed 
blood, like Longland ; but there are measures which torture 
the mind and not the body, and which the most moderate 
men fear not to make use of. John Higgins, Henry Cham- 
bers, Thomas Eaglestone, a priest named Edmund Spilman, 
and some other Christians in London, used to meet and read 
portions of the Bible in English, and even asserted publicly 
that " Luther had more learning in his little finger than all 
the doctors in England." J The bishop ordered these rebels to 
be arrested : he flattered and alarmed them, threatening them 
with a cruel death (which he would hardly have inflicted on 
them), and by these skilful practices reduced them to silence. 

" Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 42. 

t Ibid. p. 42, 43. Herbert says (p. 147) " to suspend the laity betwix* 
fear and controversies." 
J Fose, Acts, v. p. 17!'. 



214 TYNDALE RESOLVES TO LEAVE ENGLAND. 

Tyndale, who witnessed this persecution, feared lest the 
stake should interrupt his labour. If those who read a few 
fragments of Scripture are threatened with death, what will 
he not have to endure who is translating the whole ? His 
friends entreated him to withdraw from the bishop's pursuit 
" Alas ! " he exclaimed, " is there then no place where I can 

translate the Bible? It is not the bishop's house alone 

that is closed against me, but all England." * 

He then made a great sacrifice. Since there is no place 
in his own country where he can translate the word of God, 
he will go and seek one among the nations of the continent. 
It is true the people are unknown to him ; he is without re- 
sources ; perhaps persecution and even death await him 

there It matters not ! some time must elapse before it is 

known what he is doing, and perhaps he will have been 
able to translate the Bible. He turned his eyes towards 
Germany. " God does not destine us to a quiet life here 
below," he said. f- " If he calls us to peace on the part of 
Jesus Christ, he calls us to war on the part of the world." 

There lay at that moment in the river Thames a vessel 
loading for Hamburg. Monmouth gave Tyndale ten pounds 
sterling for his voyage, and other friends contributed a like 
amount. He left the half of this sum in the hands of his 
benefactor to provide for his future wants, and prepared to 
quit London, where he had spent a year. Rejected by his 
fellow-countrymen, persecuted by the clergy, and carrying 
with him only his New Testament and his ten pounds, he 
went on board the ship, shaking off the dust of his feet, ac- 
cording to his Master's precept, and that dust fell back on 
the priests of England. He was indignant (says the chroni- 
cler) against those coarse monks, covetous priests, and pom- 
pous prelates, J who were waging an impious war against 
God. " What a trade is that of the priests ! " he said in one 
of his later writings ; " they want money for everything : 

* But also that there was no place to do it in all England. Tynd. 
Doctr. Tr. p. 396. 

f We be not called to a soft living. Ibid. p. 249. 

J Marking especially the demeanour of the preachers, and beholding 
the pomp of the prelates. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 118. 



HIS INDIGNATION AGAINST THE PRELATES. 215 

money for baptism, money for churehings, for weddings, for 
buryings, for images, brotherhoods, penances, soul-masses, 
bells, organs, chalices, copes, surplices, ewers, censers, and 
all manner of ornaments. Poor sheep ! The parson shears, 
the vicar shaves, the parish priest polls, the friar scrapes, 

the indulgence seller pares all that you want is a butcher 

to flay you and take away your skin. * He will not leave 
you long. Why are your prelates dressed in red ? Because 
they are ready to shed the blood of whomsoever seeketh the 
word of God.f Scourge of states, devastators of kingdoms, 
the priests take away not only Holy Scripture, but also pro- 
sperity and peace ; but of their councils is no layman : reign- 
ing over all, they obey nobody ; and making all concur to 
their own greatness, they conspire against every kingdom." J 

No kingdom was to be more familiar than England with 
the conspiracies of the papacy of which Tyndale spoke ; and 
yet none was to free itself more irrevocably from the power 
of Rome. 

Yet Tyndale was leaving the shores of his native land, 
and as he turned his eyes towards the new countries, hope 
revived in his heart. He was going to be free, and he would 
use his liberty to deliver the word of God, so long held cap- 
tive. " The priests," he said one day, " when they had slain 
Christ, set poleaxes to keep him in his sepulchre, that he 
should not rise again ; even so have our priests buried the 
Testament of God, and all their study is to keep it down, that 
it rise not again. But the hour of the Lord is come, and 
nothing can hinder the word of God, as nothing could hinder 
Jesus Christ of old from issuing from the tomb." Indeed 
that poor man, then sailing towards Germany, was to send 
back, even from the banks of the Elbe, the eternal gospel to 
his countrymen. 

Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 238. Obedience of a Christian Man. 
f Ibid. p. 251. J Ibid. p. 191. 

Ibid. p. 251. 



216 B1LNEY AT CAMBRIDGE. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Bilney at Cambridge Conversions The University Cross-bearer A 
Leicestershire Farmer A Party of Students Superstitious Practices 
An obstinate Papist The Sophists Latimer attacks Stafford Bil- 
ney's Resolution Latimer hears Bilney's Confession Confessor con- 
verted New Life in Latimer Bilhey preaches Grace Nature of the 
Ministry Latimer's Character and Teaching Works of Charity 
Three Classes of Adversaries Clark and Dalaber. 

THIS ship did not bear away all the hopes of England. A 
society of Christians had been formed at Cambridge, of which 
Bilney was the centre. He now knew no other canon law 
than Scripture, and had found a new master, " the Holy Spi- 
rit of Christ," says an historian. Although he was naturally 
timid, and often suffered from the exhaustion brought on by 
his fasts and vigils, there was in his language a life, liberty, 
and strength, strikingly in contrast with his sickly appear- 
ance. He desired to draw to the knowledge of God,* all who 
came nigh him ; and by degrees, the rays of the gospel sun, 
which was then rising in the firmament of Christendom, 
pierced the ancient windows of the colleges, and illuminated 
the solitary chambers of certain of the masters and fellows. 
Master Arthur, Master Thistle of Pembroke Hall, and Mas- 
ter Stafford, were among the first to join Bilney. George 
Stafford, professor of divinity, was a man of deep learning 
and holy life, clear and precise in his teaching. He was ad- 
mired by every one in Cambridge, so that his conversion, like 
that of his friends, spread alarm among the partisans of the 
schoolmen. But a conversion still more striking than this 
was destined to give the English Reformation a champion 
more illustrious than either Stafford or Bilney. 

There was in Cambridge, at that time, a priest notorious 
for his ardent fanaticism. In the processions, amidst the 
pomp, prayers, and chanting of the train, none could fail to 

* So was in his heart an incredible desire to allure many. Foxe, Acts. 
\ p. 620. 



A LEICESTERSHIRE FARMER. 217 

notice a master-of-arts, about thirty years of age, who, with 
erect head, carried proudly the university cross. Hugh La- 
timer, for such was his name, combined a biting humour 
with an impetuous disposition and indefatigable zeal, and 
was very quick in ridiculing the faults of his adversaries. 
There was more wit and raillery in his fanaticism than can 
often be found in such characters. He followed the friends 
of the word of God into the colleges and houses where they 
used to meet, debated with them, and pressed them to aban- 
don their faith. He was a second Saul, and was soon to re- 
semble the apostle of the Gentiles in another respect. 

He first saw light in the year 1491, in the county of Lei- 
cester. Hugh's father was an honest yeoman ; and, accom- 
panied by one of his six sisters, the little boy had often 
tended in the pastures the five score sheep belonging to the 
farm, or driven home to his mother the thirty cows it was 
her business to milk.* In 1497, the Cornish rebels, under 
Lord Audley, having encamped at Blackhedth, our farmer had 
donned his rusty armour, and, mounting his horse, responded 
to the summons of the crown. Hugh, then only six years 
old, was present at his departure, and as if he had wished to 
take his little part in the battle, he had buckled the straps 
of his father's armour. -J- Fifty-two years afterwards he re- 
called this circumstance to mind in-a sermon preached before 
King Edward. His father's house was always open to the 
neighbours ; and no poor man ever turned away from the 
door without having received alms. The old man brought 
up his family in the love of men and in the fear of God, and 
having remarked with joy the precocious understanding of 
his son, he had him educated in the country schools, and 
then sent to Cambridge at the age of fourteen. This was in 
1505, just as Luther was entering the Augustine convent. 

The son of the Leicestershire yeoman was lively, fond of 
pleasure, and of cheerful conversation, and mingled fre- 
quently in the amusements of his fellow-students. One day, 
as they were dining together, one of the party exclaimed : 

* My mother milked thirty kine. Latimer's Sermons, (Parker ed.) 
p. 101. 
1 1 can remember that I buckled his harness. Ibid. 

10* K 



218 SUPERSTITIOUS PRACTICES. 

Nil melius quam Icetari et facere bene ! " There is nothing 
better than to be merry and to do well." * " A vengeance 
on that bene /" replied a monk of impudent mien ; " I wish 
it were beyond the sea; f it mars all the rest." Young 
Latimer was much surprised at the remark : " I understand 
it now," said he ; " that will be a heavy bene to these monks 
when they have to render God an account of their lives." 

Latimer having become more serious, threw himself heart 
and soul into the practices of superstition, and a very 
bigoted old cousin undertook to instruct him in them. 
One day, when one of their relations lay dead, she said to 
him : " Now we must drive out the devil. Take this holy 
taper, my child, and pass it over the body, first longways 
and then athwart, so as always to make the sign of the 
cross." 

But the scholar performing this exorcism very awkwardly, 
his aged cousin snatched the candle from his hand, exclaim- 
ing angrily : " It 's a great pity your father spends so much 
money on your studies: he will never make anything of 
you."t 

This prophecy was not fulfilled. He became Fellow of 
Clare Hall in 1509, and took his master's degree in 1514. 
His classical studies being ended, he began to study divin- 
ity. Duns Scotus, Aquinas, and Hugo de Sancto Victore 
were his favourite authors. The practical side of things, 
however, engaged him more than the speculative ; and he 
was more distinguished in Cambridge for his asceticism and 
enthusiasm than for his learning. He attached importance 
to the merest trifles. As the missal directs that water 
should be mingled with the sacramental wine, often while 
saying mass he would be troubled in his conscience for fear 
he had not put sufficient water. This remorse never left 
him a moment's tranquillity during the service. In him, as 



* Eccles. iii. 12. 

f I would that bene had been banished beyond the sea. Latimer's 
Sermons, p. 153. 

Ibid. p. 499. 

He thought he had never sufficiently mingled his massing wine with 
water. Foxe, Acts, viii. p. 433. 



AN OBSTINATE PAPIST STAFFORD AND THK SOPHISTS. 219 

in many others, attachment to puerile ordinances occupied 
in his heart the place of faith in the great truths. With 
him, the cause of the church was the cause of God, and he 
respected Thomas a Becket at least as much as St Paul. 
" I was then," said he, " as obstinate a papist as any in Eng- 
land." * Luther said the same thing of himself. 

The fervent Latimer soon observed that everybody around 
him was not equally zealous with himself for the ceremonies 
of the church. He watched with surprise certain young 
members of the university who, forsaking the doctors of the 
School, met daily to read and search into the Holy Scrip- 
tures. People sneered at them in Cambridge : " It is only 
the sophists" was the cry ; but raillery was jiot enough for 
Latimer. One day he entered the room where these sophists 
were assembled, and begged them to cease studying the 
Bible. All his entreaties were useless. Can we be aston- 
ished at it ? said Latimer *to himself. Don't we see even the 
tutors setting an example to these stray sheep ? There is 
Master Stafford, the most illustrious professor in English 
jiniversities, devoting his time ad Biblia, like Luther at 
Wittemberg, and explaining the Scriptures according to the 
Hebrew and Greek texts ! and the delighted students cele- 
brate in bad verse the doctor, 

Qui Paulum explicuit rite et evangelium.^ 

That young people should occupy themselves with these 
new doctrines was conceivable, but that a doctor of divinity 
should do so what a disgrace! Latimer therefore deter- 
mined to attack Stafford. He insulted him ; \ he entreated 
the youth of Cambridge to abandon the professor and his 
heretical teaching ; he attended the hall in which the doctor 
taught, made signs of impatience during the lesson, and 
cavilled at it after leaving the school. He even preached 
in public against the learned doctor. But it seemed to him 
that Cambridge and England were struck blind : true, the 

* Foxe, Acts, viii. p. 334. 

f Who has explained to us the true sense of St Paul and of the 
gtspel. Strype's Mem. i. p. 74. 
Most spitefully railing against him. Foxe, Acts, viii. p. 437. 



220 LATIMER ATTACKS STAFFORD. 

clergy approved of Latimer's proceedings nay, praised 
them ; and yet they did nothing. To console him, however, 
he was named cross-bearer to the university, and we have 
already seen him discharging this duty. 

Latimer desired to show himself worthy of such an honour. 
He had left the students to attack Stafford ; and he now left 
Stafford for a more illustrious adversary. But this attack 
led him to some one that icas stronger than he. At the 
occasion of receiving the degree of bachelor of divinity he 
had to deliver a Latin discourse in the presence of the uni- 
versity; Latimer chose for his subject Philip Mclancthon 
and his doctrines. Had not this daring heretic presumed to 
say quite recently that the fathers of the church have altered 
the sense of Scripture ? Had he not asserted that, like those 
rocks whose various colours are imparted to the polypus 
which clings to them,* so the doctors of the church give each 
their own opinion in the passages they explain ? And, finally, 
had he not discovered a new touchstone (it is thus he styles 
the Holy Scripture) by which we must test the sentences 
even of St Thomas ? , 

Latimer's discourse made a great impression. At last 
(said his hearers) England, nay Cambridge, will furnish a 
champion for the church that will confront the Wittemberg 
doctors, and save the vessel of our Lord. But very different 
was to be the result. There was among the hearers one 
man almost hidden through his small stature : it was Bilney. 
For some time he had been watching Latimer's movements, 
and his*zeal interested him, though it was a zeal without 
knowledge. His energy was not great, but he possessed a 
delicate tact, a skilful discernment of character which enabled 
him to distinguish error, and to select the fittest method for 
combating it. Accordingly, a chronicler styles him " a trier 
of Satan's subtleties, appointed by God to detect the bad 
money that the enemy was circulating throughout the 
church."-l- Bilney easily detected Latimer's sophisms, but 
at the same time loved his person, and conceived the design 
,of winning him to tlie gospel. But how to manage it? The 

* Ut polypus cuicunque petrce adhseserit, ejus colorem imitatur. Corp. 
Ref. i. p. 114. t Foxe, Acts, vii. p. 438. 



LATIMER HEARS BILNEY's CONFESSION. 221 

prejudiced Latimer would not even listen to the evangelical 
Bilney. The latter reflected, prayed, and at last planned a 
very candid and very strange plot, which led to one of the 
most astonishing conversions recorded in history. 

He went to the college where Latimer resided. " For the 
love of God," he said to him, " be pleased to hear iny con- 
trssion."* The heretic prayed to make confession to the 
-atholic : what a singular fact ! My discourse against Mel- 
ancthon has no doubt converted him, said Latimer to him- 
self. Had not Bilney once been among the number of the 
most pious zealots ? His pale face, his wasted frame, and 
his humble look are clear signs that he ought to belong to 
the ascetics of Catholicism. If he turns back, all will turn 
back with him, and the reaction will be complete at Cam- 
bridge. The ardent Latimer eagerly yielded to Bilney's 
request, and the latter, kneeling before the cross-bearer, 
related to him with touching simplicity the anguish he had 
once felt in his soul, the efforts he had made to remove it, 
their unprofitableness so long as he determined to follow the 
precepts of the church, and, lastly, the peace he had felt when 
he believed that Jesus Christ is the Lamb of God that taketh 
'i the sins of the world. He described to Latimer the 
spirit of adoption he had received, and the happiness he ex- 
perienced in being able now to call God his father Lati- 
mer, who expected to receive a confession, listened without 
mistrust. His heart was opened, and the voice of the pious 
Biliu-y penetrated it withput obstacle. From time to time 
the confessor would have chased away the new thoughts 
which came crowding into his bosom; but the penitent con- 
tinued. His language, at once so simple and so lively, 
entered like a two-edged sword. Bilney was not without 
assistance in his work. A new, a strange witness, the 
Holy Ghost,f was speaking in Latimer's soul. He learned 
from God to know God : he received a new heart. At length 
grace prevailed : the penitent rose up, but Latimer remained 
seated, absorbed in thought. The strong cross-bearer con- 

* He came to me afterwards in my study, and desired me for Goa's 
ike to hear his confession. Latimer's Sermons, p. 334. 
+ He was through the good spirit of God so touched. F'tce, Till. p. 438. 



222 LATIMER'S TRANSFORMATION. 

tended in vain against the words of the feeble Bilney. Like 
Saul on the way to Damascus, he was conquered, and his 
conversion, like the apostle's, was instantaneous. He stam- 
mered out a few words ; Bilney drew near him with love, 
and G-od scattered the darkness which still obscured his 
mind. He saw Jesus Christ as the only Saviour given to 
man : he contemplated and adored him. " I learnt more by 
this confession," he said afterwards, " than by much reading 

and in many years before* I now tasted the word of 

Grod,-|- and forsook the doctors of the school and all their 
fooleries."| It was not the penitent but the confessor who 
received absolution. Latimer viewed with horror the obsti- 
nate war he had waged against God ; he wept bitterly ; but 
Bilney consoled him. "Brother," said he, "though your 
sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow." These two 
young men, then locked in their solitary chamber at Cam- 
bridge, were one day to mount the scaffold for that divine 
Master whose spirit was teaching them. But one of them 
before going to the stake was first to sit on an episcopal 
throne. 

Latimer was changed. The energy of his character was 
tempered by a divine unction. Becoming a believer, he had 
ceased to be superstitious. Instead of persecuting Jesus 
Christ, he became a zealous seeker after him. Instead of 
cavilling and railing, he showed himself meek and gentle ; || 
instead of frequenting company, he sought solitude, study- 
ing the Scriptures and advancing in true theology. He 
threw off the old man and put on the new. He waited upon 
Stafford, begged forgiveness for the insult he had offered 
him, and then regularly attended his lectures, being sub- 
jugated more by this doctor's angelic conversation^ than by 
his learning. But it was Bilney's society Latimer cultivated 
jnost. They conversed together daily, took frequent walks 

* Latimer's Sermons, p. 334. 

f- From that time forward I began to smell the word of God. Ibid. 

J Ibid. p. 335. 

Whereas before he was an enemy and almost a persecutor of Christ, 
he was now a zealous seeker after him. Foxe, Acts, vii. p. 338. || Ibid. 

11 A man of a very perfect life and angelic conversation. Becon's 
Works (Parker Soc.) p. 425. 



BILNEY PREACHES GRACE MUSIC AND PRAYER. 223 

together into the country, and occasionally rested at a place, 
long known as " the heretic's hill."* 

So striking a conversion gave fresh vigour to the evan- 
gelical movement. Hitherto Bilney and Latimer had been 
the most zealous champions of the two opposite causes ; the 
one despised, the other honoured ; the weak man had con- 
quered the strong. This action of the Spirit of God was 
not thrown away upon Cambridge. Latimer's conversion, 
as of old the miracles of the apostles, struck men's minds ; 
and was it not in truth a miracle ? All the youth of the 
university ran to hear Bilney preach. He proclaimed 
" Jesus Christ as He who, having tasted death, has delivered 
his people from the penalty of sin."-}- While the doctors of 
the school (even the most pious of them) laid most stress 
upon marts part in the work of redemption, Bilney on the 
contrary emphasized the other term, namely, God's part. 
This doctrine of grace, said his adversaries, annuls the 
sacraments, and contradicts baptismal regeneration. The 
selfishness which forms the essence of fallen humanity re- 
jected the evangelical doctrine, and felt that to accept it was 
to be lost. " Many listened with the left ear" to use an 
expression of Bilney's ; " like Malchus, having their right 
ear cut off;" and they filled the university with their com- 
plaints. 

But Bilney did not allow himself to be stopped. The 
idea of eternity had seized on his mind, and perhaps he still 
retained some feeble relic of the exaggerations of asceticism. 
He condemned every kind of recreation, even when innocent. 
Music in the churches seemed to him a mockery of God ; J 
and when Thurlby, who was afterwards a bishop, and who 
lived at Cambridge in the room below his, used to begin 
playing on the recorder, Bilney would fall on his knees and 
pour out his soul in prayer : to him prayer was the sweetest 
melody. He prayed that the lively faith of the children of 
God might in all England be substituted for the vanity and 

* Foxe, viii.'p. 452. 

+ Christus quern pro virili doceo denique et satisfactionem. Ep.ad 

Tonstallum episcop. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 633. 
t Ibid. p. 621. 



224 NATURE OF THE MINISTRY. 

pride of the priests. He believed he prayed he waited 
His waiting was not to be in vain. 

Latimer trod in his footsteps : the transformation of his 
soul was going on ; and the more fanaticism he had shown 
for the sacerdotal system, which places salvation in the 
hands of the priest, the more zeal he now showed for the 
evangelical system, which placed it in the hands of Christ. 
He saw that if the churches must needs have ministers, it 
is not because they require a human mediation, but from 
the necessity of a regular preaching of the gospel and a 
steady direction of the flock; and accordingly he would 
have wished to call the servant of the Lord minister (vvqe'erric 
or diaKovog rot! Xoyou), and not priest* (/fs6s or sacerdos}. 
In his view, it was not the imposition of hands by the 
bishop that gave grace, but grace which authorized the im- 
position of hands. He considered activity to be ene of the 
essential features of the gospel ministry. " Would you 
know," said he, " why the Lord chose fishermen to be his 

apostles? See how they watch day and night at their 

nets to take all such fishes that they can get and come in 

their way So all our bishops, and curates, and vicars 

should be as painful in casting their nets, that is to say, in 
preaching God's word."f He regarded all confidence in 
human strength as a remnant of paganism. " Let us not 
do," he said, " as the haughty Ajax, who said to his father 
as he went to battle : "Without the help of God I am able to 
fight, and I will get the victory with mine own strength." J 

The Reformation had gained in Latimer a very different 
man from Bilney. He had not so much discernment and 
prudence, perhaps, but he had more energy and eloquence. 
What Tyndale was to be for England by his writings, Lati- 
mer was to be by his discourses. The tenderness of his 
conscience, the warmth of his zeal, and the vivacity of his 
understanding, were enlisted in the service of Jesus Christ ; 
and if at times he was carried too far by the liveliness of his 
wit, it only shows that the reformers were not saints, but 

* Minister is a more fit name for that office. Latimer's Remains, 
p. 264. f Ibid. p. 24. 

J Latimer's Sermons,' p. 491. Sophocles, Ajax, 783, et seq. 



LATIMER'S PREACHING. 225 

sanctified men. " He was one of the first," says an his- 
torian, " who, in the days of King Henry VIII., set himself 
to preach the gospel in the truth and simplicity of it." * He 
preached in Latin ad clerum, and in English ad populum. 
He boldly placed the law with its curses before his hearers, 
and then conjured them to flee towards the Saviour of the 
world.-j- The same zeal which he had employed in saying 
mass, he now employed in preaching the true sacrifice of 
Christ. He said one day : " If one man had committed all 
the sins since Adam, you may be sure he should be punish- 
ed with the same horror of death, in such a sort as all men 

in the world should have suffered Such was the pain 

Christ endured If our Saviour had committed all the 

sins of the world ; all that I for my part have done, ail that 
you for your part have done, and that any man else hath 
done; if he had done all this himself, his agony that he 
suffered should have been no greater nor -grievouser than it 

was Believe in Jesus Christ, and you shall overcome 

death But, alas!" said he at another time, "the devil, 

by the help of that Italian bishop, his chaplain, has laboured 
by all means that he might frustrate the death of Christ and 
the merits of his passion." J 

Thus began in British Christendom the preaching of the 
Cross. The Reformation was not the substitution of the 
Catholicism of the first ages for the popery of the middle 
ages: it was a revival of the preaching of St Paul, and 
thus it was that on hearing Latimer every one exclaimed 
with rapture: "Of a Saul, God has made him a very 
Paul." 

To the inward power of faith the Cambridge evangelists 
added the outward power of the life. Saul become Paul, 
the strong, the ardent Latimer, had need of action; and 
Bilney, the weak and humble Bilney, in delicate health, 
observing a severe diet, taking ordinarily but one meal 

* Strype's Mem. iii. part i. p. 378. 
t Flying to him by an evangelical faith. Ibid. 
J Latimer's Sermons, p. 74. 

This was sa/d by Ralph Morice, afterwards Cranmer's secretary 
Strypo, Eccl. Mem. iii. part i. p. 368. 

K2 



226 WOKKS OF CHARITY. 

a-day, and never sleeping more than four hours, absorbed in 
prayer and in the study of the word, displayed at that time 
all the energy of charity. These two friends devoted them- 
selves not merely to the easy labours of Christian benefi- 
cence ; but, caring little lor that formal Christianity so often 
met with among the easy classes, they explored the gloomy 
cells of the madhouse to bear the sweet and subtle voice of 
the gospel to the infuriate maniacs. They visited the miser- 
able lazar-house without the town, in which several poor 
lepers were dwelling ; they carefully tended them, wrapped 
them in clean sheets, and wooed them to be converted to 
Christ.* The gates of the jail at Cambridge were opened to 
them,-}- and they announced to the poor prisoners that word 
which giveth liberty. Some were converted by it, and 
longed for the day of their execution.^: Latimer, afterwards 
bishop of Worcester, was one of the most beautiful types of 
the Reformation in England. 

He was opposed by numerous adversaries. In the front 
rank were the priests, who spared no endeavours to retain 
souls. " Beware," said Latimer to the new converts, " lest 
robbers overtake you, and plunge you into the pope's prison 
of purgatory." After these came the sons and favourites 
of the aristocracy, worldly and frivolous students, who felt 
little disposition to listen to the gospel. "By yeomen's 
sons the faith of Christ is and hath been chiefly maintained 
in the church," || said Latimer. "Is this realm taught by 
rich men's sons? No, no; read the chronicles; ye shall 
find sometime noblemen's sons which have been unpreaching 
bishops and prelates, but ye shall find none of them learned 
men." He would have desired a mode of election which 
placed in the Christian pulpit, not the richest and most 
fashionable men, but the ablest and most pious. Tliis im- 
portant reform was reserved for other days. Lastly, the 

* Preaching at the lazar-cots, wrapping them in sheets. Foxe, Acts, 
iv. p. 620. Lond. 1846. 

t Latimer's Sermons, p. 335 (Park. Soc.) 

J She had such a savour, such a sweetness, and feeling, that she 
thought it long to the day of execution. Ibid. p. 180. 

Strype's Eccles. Memorials, iii. part i. p. 378. 

Latimer's Sermons, p. 102. 



WORLDLINESS AND BRUTALITY DALABER. 227 

evangelists of Cambridge came into collision with the bru- 
tality of many, to use Latimer's own expression. " What 
need have we of universities and schools ? " said the 
students of this class. The Holy Ghost " will give us al- 
ways what to say." " We must trust in the Holy Ghost,' 1 
replied Latimer, " but not presume on it. If you will not 
maintain universities, you shall have a brutality"* In 
this manner the Reformation restored to Cambridge gravity 
and knowledge, along with truth and charity. 

Yet Bilney and Latimer often turned their eyes towards 
Oxford, and wondered how the light would be able to pene- 
trate there. Wolsey provided for that. A Cambridge 
master-of-arts, John Clark, a conscientious man, of tender 
heart, great prudence, and unbounded devotion to his duty, 
had been enlightened by the word of God. Wolsey, who 
since 1523 had been seeking everywhere for distinguished 
scholars to adorn his new college, invited Clark among the 
first. This doctor, desirous of bearing to Oxford the light 
which God had given Cambridge, immediately began to 
deliver a course of divinity lectures, to hold conferences, and 
to preach in his eloquent manner. He taught every day.-f- 
Among the graduates and students who followed him was 
Anthony Dalaber, a young man of simple but profound 
feeling, who while listening to him had experienced in his 
heart the regenerating power of the gospel. Overflowing 
with the happiness which the knowledge of Jesus Christ 
imparted to him, he went to the cardinal's college, knocked 
at Clark's door, and said : " Father, allow me never to quit 
you more!" The teacher, beholding the young disciple's 
enthusiasm, loved him, but thought it his duty to try him : 
" Anthony," said he, " you know not what you ask. My 
teaching is now pleasant to you, but the time will come 
when God will lay the cross of persecution on you ; you will 
be dragged before bishops ; your name will be covered with 
shame in the world, and ah 1 who love you will be heart- 
broken on account of you Then, my friend, you will 

regret that you ever knew me." 

* Latimer's Sermons, p. 269. 

t Teach or preach, which he did daily. Foxe, Acis, v. p. 426. 



228 PERSECUTION SUSPENDED. 

Anthony believing himself rejected, and unable to bear 
the idea of returning to the barren instructions of the priests, 
fell on his knees, and weeping bitterly,* exclaimed : " Foi 
the tender mercy of God, turn me not away ! " Touched by 
his sorrow, Clark folded him in his arms, kissed him, and 
with tears in his eyes exclaimed : " The Lord give thee 

what thou askest! Take me for thy father, I take thee 

for my son." From that hour Anthony, all joy, was like 
Timothy at the feet of Paul. He united a quick under- 
standing with tender affections. When any of the students 
had not attended Clark's conferences, the master commis- 
sioned his disciple to visit them, to inquire into their doubts, 
and to impart to them his instructions. " This exercise did 
me much good," said Dalaber, " and I made great progress 
in the knowledge of Scripture." 

Thus the kingdom of God, which consists not irf forms, 
but in the power of the Spirit, was set up in Cambridge and 
Oxford. The alarmed schoolmen, beholding their most pious 
scholars escaping one after another from their teaching, 
called the bishops to their aid, and the latter determined to 
send agents to Cambridge, the focus of the heresy, to appre- 
hend the leaders. This took place in 1523 or the beginning 
of 1524. The episcopal officers had arrived, and were pro- 
ceeding to business. The most timid began to feel alarm, 
but Latimer was full of courage ; when suddenly the agents 
of the clergy were forbidden to go on, and this prohibition, 
strange to say, originated with Wolsey ; " upon what ground 
I cannot imagine," says Burnet.f Certain events were 
taking place at Rome of a nature to exercise great influence 
over the priestly councils, and which may perhaps explain 
what Burnet could not understand. 

* Foxe, Acts, v. p. 426. 

f History of the Reformation, i. p. 25. Lond. 1841. 



WOLSEY'S AMBITION. 229 



CHAPTER X. 

Wolsey seeks the Tiara Clement VII. is elected Wolsey's Dissimu- 
lation Charles offers France to Henry Pace's Mission on this Subject 
Wolsey reforms the Convents His secret Alliances Treaty between 
France and England Taxation and Insurrection False Charges 
against the Reformers Latimer's Defence Tenterden Steeple. 

ADRIAN VI. died on the 14th September 1523, before the 
end of the second year of his pontificate. Wolsey thought 
himself pope. At length he would no longer be the favour- 
ite only, but the arbiter of the kings of the earth ; and his 
genius, for which England was too narrow, would have 
Europe and the world for its stage. Already revolving 
gigantic projects in his mind, the future pope dreamt of the 
destruction of heresy in the west, and in the east the cessa- 
tion of the Greek schism, and new crusades to replant the 
cross on the walls of Constantinople. There is nothing that 
Wolsey would not have dared undertake when once seated 
on the throne of Catholicism, and the pontificates of Gregory 
VII. and Innocent III. would have been eclipsed by that of 
the Ipswich butcher's son. The cardinal reminded Henry 
of his promise, and the very next day the king signed a 
letter addressed to Charles the Fifth. 

Believing himself sure of the emperor, Wolsey turned all 
his exertions to the side of Rome. " The legate of England," 
said Henry's ambassadors to the cardinals, " is the very man 
for the present time. He is the only one thoroughly ac- 
quainted with the interests and wants of Christendom, and 
strong enough to provide for them. He is all kindness, and 
will share his dignities and wealth among all the prelates 
who support him." 

But Julio de' Medici himself aspired to the papacy, and 
as eighteen cardinal were devoted to him, the election could 
not take place without his support. " Rather Jthan yield," 
said he in the conclave, " I would die in this prison." A 
month passed away, and nothing was done. New intrigues 



230 ELECTION OP CLEMENT VII. 

were then resorted to : there were cabals for >V olsey, cabals 
for Medici. The cardinals were besieged : 

Into their midst, toy many a secret path, 
Creeps sly intrigue.* 

At length, on the 19th November 1523, the people col- 
lected under their windows, shouting : " No foreign pope." 
After forty-nine days' debating, Julio was elected, and accord- 
ing to his own expression, " bent his head beneath the yoke 
of apostolic servitude."-]- He took the name of Clement VII. 

Wolsey was exasperated. It was in vain that he pre- 
sented himself before St Peter's chair at each vacancy : a 
more active or more fortunate rival always reached it be- 
fore him. Master of England, and the most influential of 
European diplomatists, he saw men preferred to him who 
were his inferiors. This election was an event for the Re- 
formation. Wolsey as pope would, humanly speaking, have 
tightened the cords which already bound England so closely 
to Rome ; but Wolsey, rejected, could hardly fail to throw 
himself into tortuous paths which would perhaps contribute 
to the" emancipation of the Church. He became more crafty 
than ever ; declared to Henry that the new election was 
quite in conformity with his wishes,^ and hastened to con- 
gratulate the new pope. He wrote to his agents at Rome : 
" This election, I assure you, is as much to the king's and 
my rejoicing, consolation, and gladness, as possibly may be 

devised or imagined Ye shall show unto his holiness 

what joy, comfort, and gladness it is both to the king's high- 
ness and me to perceive that once in our lives it hath pleased 
God of his great goodness to provide such a pastor unto his 
church, as his grace and I have long inwardly desired ; who 
for his virtue, wisdom, and other high and notable qualities, 
we have always reputed the most able and worthy person to 

* Un conclave, by C. Delavigne. 

t Colla Bubjecimus jugo apostolicse servitutis. Rymer, Fcedera, vi. 
2, p. 7. 

J I take God to witness, I am more joyous thereof than if it had for- 
tuned upon my person. Wolsy to Henry VIII. Burnet, Records, 
p. cccxxyiii. (lond. 1841.) 



WOLSEY'S HATRED OP CHARLES v. 231 

be called to that dignity."* But the pope, divining his com- 
petitor's vexation, sent the king a golden rose, and a ring 
to Wolsey. " I am sorry," he said as he drew it from his 
finger, " that I cannot present it to his eminence in person.'' 
Clement moreover conferred on him the quality of legate 
for life an office which had hitherto been temporary only. 
Thus the popedora and England embraced each other, and 
nothing appeared more distant than that Christian revolu- 
tion which was destined very shortly to emancipate Britain 
from the tutelage of the Vatican. 

Wolsey's disappointed ambition made him suspend the 
proceedings of the clergy at Cambridge. He had revenge in 
his heart, and cared not to persecute his fellow-countrymen 
merely to please his rival ; and besides, like several popes, 
he had a certain fondness for learning. To send a few Lol- 
lards to prison was a matter of no difficulty ; but learned 

doctors this required a closer examination. Hence he 

gave Rome a sign of independence. And yet it was not 
specially against the pope that he began to entertain sinis- 
ter designs : Clement had been more fortunate than him- 
self ; but that was no reason why he should be angry with 

him Charles V. was the offender, and Wolsey swore a 

deadly hatred against him. Resolved to strike, he sought 
only the place where he could inflict the severest blow. To 
obtain his end, he resolved to dissemble his passion, and to 
distil drop by drop into Henry's mind that mortal hatred 
against Charles, which gave fresh energy to his activity. 

Charles discovered the indignation that lay hid under 
Wolsey's apparent mildness, and wishing to retain Henry's 
alliance, he made more pressing advances to the king. Hav- 
ing deprived the minister of a tiara, he resolved to offer the 
king a crown: this \vas, indeed, a noble compensation! 
" You are king of France," the emperor said, " and I under- 
take to win your kingdom for you.f Only send an ambas- 
sador to Italy to negotiate the matter." Wolsey, who could 
hardly contain his vexation, was forced to comply, in appear- 

* Wolsey to Secretary Pace. Gait's Wolsey, p. 381, Appendix. (Lend 
1846.) 
t Ellis' Letters, Second Series, p. 326, 327. 



232 PACE'S EMBASSY. 

ance at least, with the emperor's views. The king, indeed, 
seemed to think of nothing but his arrival at St Germain's, 
and commissioned Pace to visit Italy for this important 
business. Wolsey hoped that he would be unable to exe- 
cute his commission ; it was impossible to cross the Alps, 
for the French troops blockaded every passage. But Pace, 
who was one of those adventurous characters whom nothing 
can stop, spurred on by the thought that the king himself 
had sent him, determined to cross the Col di Tcnda. On 
the 27th July, he entered the mountains, traversed precipi- 
tous passes, sometimes climbing them on all-fours,* and 
often falling during the descent. In some places he could 
ride on horseback ; " but in the most part thereof I durst 
not either turn my horse traverse (he wrote to the king) for 
all the worldly riches, nor in manner look on my left hand, 
for the pronite and deepness to the valley." After this pas- 
sage, which lasted six days, Pace arrived in Italy worn out 
by fatigue. " If the king of England will enter France im- 
mediately byway of Normandy," said the constable of Bour- 
bon to him, " I will give him leave to pluck out both my 
eyes-J- if he is not master of Paris before All-Saints; and 
when Paris is taken, he will be master of the whole king- 
dom." But Wolsey, to whom these remarks were trans- 
mitted by the ambassador, slighted them, delayed furnishing 
the subsidies, and required certain conditions which were 
calculated to thwart the project. Pace, who was ardent and 
ever imprudent, but plain and straightforward, forgot him- 
self, and in a moment of vexation wrote to Wolsey : " To 
speak frankly, if you do not attend to these things, I shall 
impute to your grace the loss of the crown of France." 
These words ruined Henry's envoy in the cardinal's mind. 
Was this man, who owed everything to him, trying to sup- 
plant him? Pace in vain assured Wolsey that he should 

not take seriously what he had said ; but the bolt had hit. 
Pace was associated with Charles in the cruel enmity of the 
minister, and he was one day to feel its terrible effects. It 

* It made us creep of all-four. Pace to the king, Strype, vol. i. part 
ii. p. 27. 
t Cotton MSS., Vitellius, B. 6. p. 87. 



WOLSEY REFORMS THE MONASTERIES. 23b 

was not long before Wolsey was able to satisfy himself that 
the service Charles had desired to render the king of Eng- 
land was beyond the emperor's strength. 

No sooner at ease on one side, than Wolsey found himself 
attacked on another. This man, the most powerful among 
kings' favourites, felt at this time the first breath of disfavour 
blow over him. On the pontifical throne, he would no 
doubt have attempted a reform after the manner of Sixtus 
V. ; and wishing to rehearse on a smaller stage, and regen- 
erate after his own fashion the catholic church in England, 
he submitted the monasteries to a strict inquisition, patron- 
ized the instruction of youth, and was the first to set a great 
example, by suppressing certain religious houses, whose 
revenues he applied to his college in Oxford. Thomas 
Cromwell, his solicitor, displayed much skill and industry in 
this business,* and thus, under the orders of a cardinal of the 
Roman church, made his first campaign in a war of which 
he was in later days to hold the chief command. Wolsey 
and Cromwell, by their reforms, drew down the hatred of 
certain monks, priests, and noblemen, always the very humble 
servants of the clerical party. The latter accused the cardi- 
nal of not having estimated the monasteries at their just 
value, and of having, in certain cases, encroached on the 
royal jurisdiction. Henry, whom the loss of the crown of 
France had put in a bad humour, resolved, for the first time, 
not to spare his minister : " There are loud murmurs 
throughout this kingdom," he said to him ; " it is asserted 
that your new college at Oxford is only a convenient cloak 
to hide your malversations." -j- "God forbid," replied the 
cardinal, " that this virtuous foundation at Oxford, under- 
taken for the good of my poor soul, should be raised ex rapi- 
nis ! But, above all, God forbid that I should ever en- 
croach upon your royal authority." He then cunningly in- 
sinuated, that by his will he left all his property to the king. 
Henry was satisfied : he had a share in the business. 

Events of very different importance drew the king's at- 
tention to another quarter. The two armies, of the empire 

* Very forward and industrious. Foxe, Acts, T. p. 366. 
f Collier's Eocles. Hist. x. p. 20. 
Tfc. T. 11 



234 ALLIANCE BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND. 

and of France, were in presence before Pavia. Wolsey, who 
openly gave his right hand to Charles V., and secretly his 
left to Francis, repeated to his master: "If the emperor 
gains the victory, are you not his ally? and if Francis, am 
I not in secret communication with him ?"* " Thus," added 
the cardinal, " whatever happens, your Highness will have 
great cause to give thanks to Almighty God." 

On the 24th of February 1525, the battle of Pavia was 
fought, and the imperialists found in the French king's tent 
several of Wolsey's letters, and in his military chest and in 
the pockets of his soldiers the cardinal's corrupting gold. 
This alliance had been contrived by Giovanni Gioacchino, a 
Genoese master of the household to Louisa, regent of France, 
who passed for a merchant of Bologna, and lived in conceal- 
ment at Blackfriars. Charles now saw what he had to trust 
to ; but the news of the battle of Pavia had scarcely reached 
England, when, faithful in perfidy, Wolsey gave utterance to 
a feigned pleasure. The people rejoiced also, but they were 
in earnest. Bonfires were lighted in the streets of London ; 
the fountains ran wine, and the lord-mayor, attended by the 
aldermen, passed through the city on horseback to the sound 
of the trumpet. 

The cardinal's joy was not altogether false. He would 
have been pleased at his enemy's defeat ; but his victory 
was perhaps still more useful to him. 

He said to Henry : " The emperor is a liar, observing 
neither faith nor promise : the Archduchess Margaret is a 
woman of evil life ; -j- Don Ferdinand is a child, and Bourbon 
a traitor. Sire, you have other things to do with your 
money than to squander it on these four individuals. 
Charles is aiming at universal monarchy ; Pavia is the first 
step of this throne, and if England does not oppose him, he 
will attain it." Joachim having come privily to London, 
Wolsey prevailed upon Hemy to conclude between Eng- 
land and France an " indissoluble peace by land and sea." \ 

* By such communications as he set forth with France apart. State 
Papers, i. p. 158. 

t Milady Margaret was a ribaud. Cotton MSS. Vosp. C. 3, p. 55. 

Sincera fidelis, firma et indissolubilis pax. Rymer, Fcedera, p 
82, 33. 



KEW TAXES AND INSURRECTION. 235 

At last then he was in a position to prove to Charles that 
it is a dangerous thing to oppose the ambition of a priest. 

This was not the only advantage Wolsey derived from 
the triumph of his enemy. The citizens of London imagined 
that the king of England would be in a few weeks in Paris ; 
Wolsey, rancorous and grasping, determined to make them 
pay dearly for their enthusiasm. " You desire to conquer 
France," said he ; " you are right. Give me then for that 
purpose the sixth part of your property ; that is a trifle to 
gratify so noble an inclination." England did not think so ; 
this illegal demand aroused universal complaint. " We are 
English and not French, freemen and not slaves,"* was the 
universal cry. Henry might tyrannize over his court, but 
not lay hands on his subjects' property. 

The eastern counties rose in insurrection : four thousand 
men were under arms in a moment; and Henry was 
guarded in his own palace by only a few servants. It was 
necessary to break down the bridges to stop the insurgents.-}- 
Thc courtiers complained to the king; the king threw the 
blame on the cardinal ; the cardinal laid it on the clergy, 
who had encouraged him to impose this tax by quoting to 
him the example of Joseph demanding of the Egyptians the 
fifth part of their goods ; and the clergy in their turn ascribed 
the insurrection to the gospellers, who (said they) were stir- 
ring up a peasant war in England, as they had done in Ger- 
many. Reformation produces revolution : this is the favourite 
text of the followers of the pope. Violent hands must be laid 
upon the heretics. Non pluit Dens, due ad christianos.$ 

The charge of the priests was absurd ; but the people are 
blind whenever the gospel is concerned, and occasionally the 
governors are blind also. Serious reasoning was not neces- 
sary to confute this invention. " Here, by the way, I will 
tell you a merry toy," said Latimer one day in the pulpit. 
" Master More was once sent in commission into Kent to 

* Hall's Chronicle, p. 69G. If men should give their goods by a com- 
mission, then were it worse than the taxes of France ; and so England 
would be bond and not free. + Ibid. 

J "God sends no rain lead us against the Christians." Aery 

Ascribed by Augustine to the pagans of the first ages. 



236 THE EV ANGELICAL CHRISTIANS AND TENTERDEN STEEPLE. 

help to try out, if it might be, what was the cause of Good- 
win Sands and the shelf that stopped up Sandwich haven. 
He calleth the country afore him, such as were thought to 
be men of experience, and among others came in an old 
man with a white head, and one that was thought to be 
little less than one hundred years old. So Master More 
called the old aged man unto him, and said : Father, tell me, 
if you can, what is the cause of this great arising of the 
sands and shelves hereabout, that stop up Sandwich haven ? 
Forsooth, Sir, (quoth he) I am an old man, for I am well- 
nigh an hundred, and I think that Tenterden steeple is the 
cause of the Goodwin Sands. For I am an old man, Sir, 
and I may remember the building of Tenterden steeple, and 
before that steeple was in building, there was no manner of 
flats or sands." After relating this anecdote, Latimer slyly 
added: "Even so, to my purpose, is preaching of God's 
word the cause of rebellion, as Tenterden steeple was the 
cause Sandwich haven is decayed."* 

There was no persecution : there was something else to 
be done. Wolsey, feeling certain that Charles had ob- 
structed his accession to the popedom, thought only in what 
manner he might take his revenge. But during this time 
Tyndale also was pursuing his aim; and the year 1525, 
memorable for the battle of Pavia, was destined to be no 
less so in the British isles, by a still more important victory. 



CHAPTER XL 

Tyndale at Hamburg First two Gospels Embarrassment Tyndala 
at Wittemberg At Cologne The New Testament at Press Sudden 
Interruption Cochhcus at Cologne Rupert's Manuscripts Discovery 
of Cochlams His Inquiries His Alarm Rincke and the Senate's 
Prohibition Consternation and Decision of Tyndale Cochlaeus writes 
to England Tyndale ascends the Rhine Prints two Editions at 
Worms Tyndale's Prayer. 

THE ship which carried Tyndale and his MSS. cast anchor 

at Hamburg, where, since the year 1521, the gospel had 

* Latimer's Serans, vol. i. p. 251. 



TYNDALE AT HAMBURCJ. 237 

counted numerous friends. Encouraged by the presence of 
his brethren, the Oxford fellow had taken a quiet lodging in 
one of the narrow winding streets of that old city, and had 
immediately resumed his task. A secretary, whom he terms 
his " faithful companion,"* aided him in collating texts ; but 
it was not long before this brother, whose name is unknown 
to us, thinking himself called to preach Christ in places 
where He had as yet never been proclaimed, left Tyndale. 
A former friar-observant of the Franciscan order at Green- 
wich, having abandoned the cloister, and being at this time 
without resources, offered his services to the Hellenist. 
William Roye was one of those men (and they are always 
pretty numerous) whom impatience of the yoke alienates 
from Rome without their being attracted by the Spirit of 
God to Christ. Acute, insinuating, crafty, and yet of pleas- 
ing manners, he charmed all those who had mere casual 
relations with him. Tyndale, banished to the distant shores 
of the Elbe, surrounded by strange customs, and hearing 
only a foreign tongue, often thought of England, and was 
impatient that his country should enjoy the result of his 
labours : he accepted Roye's aid. The Gospels of Matthew 
and Mark, translated and printed at Hamburg, became, it 
would seem, the first fruits to England of his great task. 

But Tyndale was soon overwhelmed by annoyances. 
Roye, who was pretty manageable while he had no money, 
had become intractable now that his purse was less empty.-J- 
What was to be done ? The reformer having spent the ten 
pounds he had brought from England, could not satisfy the 
demands of his assistant, pay his own debts, and remove to 
another city. He became still more sparing and economical. 
The Wartburg, in which Luther had translated the New 
Testament, was a palace in comparison with the lodging in 
which the reformer of wealthy England endured hunger and 
cold, while toiling day and night to give the gospel to the 
English Christians. 

About the end of 1524, Tyndale sent the two Gospels to 
Monmouth ; and a merchant named John Collenbeke, hav- 

* Tyndale'lBDoctr. Treatises, p. 37. 
f Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. 49. 



238 DID TYNDALE MEET LUTHER? 

ing brought him the ten pounds he had left in the hands of 
his old patron, lie prepared to depart immediately. 

Where should he go ? Not to England ; he must com- 
plete his task before all things. Could he be in Luther's 
neighbourhood and not desire to see him ? He needed not 
the Saxon reformer either to find the truth, which he had 
already known at Oxford, or to undertake the translation of 
the Scriptures, which he had already begun in the vale of 
the Severn. But did not all evangelical foreigners flock to 
Wittemberg ? To remove all doubt as to the interview of 
the reformers, it would be desirable perhaps to find some 
trace at Wittemberg,* either in the university registers or in 
the writings of the Saxon reformers. Yet several contem- 
poraneous testimonies seem to give a sufficient degree of 
probability to this conference. Foxe tells us : " He had an 
interview with Luther and other learned men of that coun- 
try." { This must have been in the spring of 1525. 

Tyndale, desirous. of drawing nearer to his native country, 
tarncd his eyes towards the Rhine. There were at Cologne 
some celebrated printers well known in England, and among 
others Quentel and the Byrckmans. Francis Byrckman had 
warehouses in St Paul's churchyard in London, a circum- 
stance that might facilitate the introduction and sale of the 
Testament printed on the banks of the Rhine. This provi- 
dential circumstance decided Tyndale in favour of Cologne, 

* I requested a German divine to investigate this matter, but his re- 
searches were unsuccessful. 

f Mr Anderson, in his excellent work (Annals of the English Bible, 
rol. i. p. 47) disputes the interview between these two reformers, but his 
arguments do not convince me. We can understand how Luther, at tliat 
time busily engaged in his dispute ^:th Carlstadt, does not mention Tyn- 
dale's visit in his letters. But, besides Foxe, there are other conternpo- 
ranous authorities in favour of this fact. Cochlaeus, a German well 
informed on all the movements of the reformers, and whom we shall 
presently see on Tyndale's traces, says of him and Roye : " Duo Angli 
apostate, gui aliquamdiufuerant Vuitenbergai" (p. 123). And Sir Thomas 
More, having said that Tyndale had gone to see Luther, Tyndale was 
content to reply : " When Mr More saith Tyndale was confederate with 
Luther, that is not truth. ' Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue, p. 
147 (Park. Soc.) He denied the confederation, but not the visit. If Tyo- 
dale had not seen Luther, he would have beaii more explicit, and would 
probably have said that he had never even met him. 



TYNDALE AT COLOGNE. 239 

and thither he repaired with Roye and his MSS. Arrived 
in the gloomy streets of the city of Agrippina, he contem- 
plated its innumerable churches, and above all its ancient 
cathedral re-echoing to the voices of its canons, and was 
oppressed with sorrow as he beheld the priests and monks 
and mendicants and pilgrims who, from all parts of Europe, 
poured in to adore the pretended relics of the three wise men 
and of the eleven thousand virgins. And then Tyndale asked 
himself whether it was really in this superstitious city that 
the New Testament was to be printed in English. This was 
not all. The reform movement then at work in Germany 
had broken out at Cologne during the feast of Whitsuntide, 
and the archbishop had just forbidden all evangelical wor- 
ship. Yet Tyndale persevered, and submitting to the most 
minute precautions, not to compromise his work, he took an 
obscure lodging where he kept himself closely hidden. 

Soon however, trusting in God, he called on the printer, 
presented his manuscripts to him, ordered six thousand 
copies, and then, upon reflection, sank down to three thousand 
for fear of a seizure.* The printing went on ; one sheet fol- 
lowed another ; gradually the gospel unfolded its mysteries 
in the English tongue, and Tyndale could not contain him- 
self for very joy.-J- He saw in his mind's eye the triumph? 
of the Scriptures over all the kingdom, and exclaimed with 
transport : " Whether the king wills it or not, erelong all the 
people of England, enlightened by the New Testament, will 
obey the gospel." \ 

But on a sudden that sun whose earliest beams he had 
hailed with songs of joy, was hidden by thick clouds. One 
day, just as the tenth sheet had been thrown off, the printei 
hastened to Tyndale, and informed him that the senate ol 
Cologne forbade him to continue the work. Everything was 
discovered then. No doubt Henry VIII., who has burnt 
Luther's books, wishes to burn the New Testament also, to 
destroy Tyndale's manuscripts, and deliver him up to death. 
Who had betrayed him ? He was lost in unavailing corijec- 

* Sex millia sub przelum dari. Cochlaeus, p. 123. 

f Tanta ex ea spe lactitia Lutheranos invasit. Ibid. p. 124. 

J Cunctos Angliao populos, volente nolente rege. Ibid. p. 123. 



240 COCHL2EUS AT COLOGNE. 

tures, and one thing only appeared certain : alas I his vessel, 
which was moving onwards in full sail, had struck upon a 
reef! The following is the explanation of this unexpected 
incident. 

A man whom we have often met with in the course of 
this history,* one of the most violent enemies of the Refor- 
mation we mean Cochlseus had arrived in Cologne. The 
wave of popular agitation which iad stirred this city during 
the Whitsuntide holidays, had previously swept over Frank- 
fort during the festival of Easter ; and the dean of Notre- 
Dame, taking advantage of a moment when the gates of the 
city were open, had escaped a few minutes before the 
burghers entered his house to arrest him. On arriving at 
Cologne, where he hoped to live unknown under the shadow 
of the powerful elector, he had gone to lodge with George 
Lauer, a canon in the church of the Apostles. 

By a singular destiny the two most opposite men, Tyn- 
dale and Cochlseus, were in hiding in the same city ; they 
could not long remain there without coming into collision. 

On the right bank of the Rhine, and opposite Cologne, 
stood the monastery of Deutz, one of whose abbots, Rupert, 
who lived in the twelfth century, had said : " To be ignorant 
of Scripture is to be ignorant of Jesus Christ. This is the 
scripture of nations ! -j- This book of God, which is not 
pompous in words and poor in meaning like Plato, ought to 
be set before every people, and to proclaim aloud to the 
whole world the salvation of all." One day, when Cochlseus 
and his host were talking of Rupert, the canon informed the 
dean that the heretic Osiander of Nuremberg was in treaty 
with the abbot of Deutz about publishing the writings of 
this ancient doctor. Cochlseus guessed that Osiander was 
desirous of bringing forward the contemporary of St Ber- 
nard as a witness in defence of the Reformation. Hastening 
to the monastery he alarmed the abbot : " Intrust to me the 
manuscripts of your celebrated predecessor," he said ; " I 
will undertake to print them and prove that he was one of 
us." The monks placed them in his hands, stipulating for 

* Book ix. chapter zii. etc. 

f Scripture populorum. Opp. i. p. 641. 



COCHL-fiDa'3 DISCOVERY. 241 

an early publication, from which they expected no little re- 
nown.* Cochlaeus immediately went to Peter Quentel and 
Arnold Byrckman to make the necessary arrangements. 
They were Tyndale's printers. 

There Cochlaeus made a more important discovery thau 
that of Rupert's manuscripts. Byrckman and Quentel hav- 
ing invited him one day to meet several of their colleagues 
at dinner, a printer, somewhat elevated by wine, declared in 
his cups (to borrow the words of Cochlaeus) : f " Whether 
the king and the cardinal of York wish it or not, all Eng- 
land will soon be Lutheran." J Cochlaeus listened and grew 
alarmed ; he made inquiry, and was informed that two Eng- 
lishmen, learned men and skilled in the languages, were 
concealed at Cologne.f But all his efforts to discover more 
proved unavailing. 

There was no more repose for the dean of Frankfort ; his 
imagination fermented, his mind became alarmed. " What," 
said he, " shall England, that faithful servant of the pope- 
dom, be perverted like Germany ? Shall the English, the 
most religious people of Christendom,!) and whose king once 
ennobled himself by writing against Luther, shall they be 

invaded by heresy? Shall the mighty cardinal-legate of 

York be compelled to flee from his palace, as I was from 
Frankfort?" Cochlaeus continued his search; he paid fre- 
quent visits to the printers, spoke to them in a friendly 
tone, flattered them, invited them to visit him at the canon's ; 
but as yet he dared not hazard the important question ; it 
was sufficient for the moment to have won the good graces 
of the depositaries of the secret. He soon took a new step ; 
he was careful not to question them before one another; 
but he procured a private interview with one of them,^[ and 
supplied him plentifully with Rhine wine : he himself is 

* Cum monachi quieturi non erant, nisi edecentur open ills. Cochl. 
p. 124. 

t Audi vit eos aliquando inter pocula fiducialiter jactitare. Ibid. p. 125. 

J Velint nolint rex et cardinalis Angliae, totam Angliam brevi fora 
Lutheranam. Ibid. 

Duos ibi latitare Anglos eruditos, linguarumquo peritos. Ibid. 

|| In gente ilia religiosissima vereque Christiana. Ibid. p. 131. 

*JT Unua eorum in secretion colloqnio revelavit illi arcanum. Ibid. 

11* L 



242 THE SECRET BETRAYED. 

our informant.* Artful questions embarrassed the unwary 
printer, and at last the secret was disclosed. " The New 
Testament," Cochlseus learnt, " is translated into English ; 
three thousand copies are in the press ; fourscore pages in 
quarto are ready ; the expense is fully supplied by English 
merchants, who are secretly to convey the work when 
printed, and to disperse it widely through all England, be- 
fore the king or the cardinal can discover or prohibit it.-j- 
Thus will Britain be converted to the opinions of Lu- 
ther." t 

The surprise of Cochlaeus equalled his alarm ; he dis- 
sembled ; he wished to learn, however, where the two Eng- 
lishmen lay concealed ; but all his exertions proved ineffec- 
tual, and he returned to his lodgings filled with emotion. 
The danger was very great. A stranger and an exile, what 
can he do to oppose this impious undertaking? Where 
shall he find a friend to England, prepared to show hif zeal 
in warding off the threatened blow? He was bewildered. 

A flash of light suddenly dispelled the darkness. A per- 
son of some consequence at Cologne, Herman Rincke, a 
patrician and imperial councillor, had been sent on import- 
ant business by the Emperor Maximilian to Henry VII., 
and from that time he had always shown a great attach- 
ment to England. Cochlseus determined to reveal the fatal 
secret to him ; but, being still alarmed by the scenes at 
Frankfort, he was afraid to conspire openly against the Re- 
formation. He had left an aged mother and a little niece at 
home, and was unwilling to do anything which might 
compromise them. He therefore crept stealthily towards 
Rincke's house (as he tells us himself),|| slipped in secretly, 
and unfolded the whole matter to him. Rincke could not 
believe that the New Testament in English was printing at 
Cologne; however, he sent a confidential person to make 

* Rem omnem ut acceperat vini beneficio. Cochlseus, p. 13.. 
f- Opus excussum clam invecturi per totam Angliam latenter diaper- 
gerc vellent. Ibid, 

J Ad Lutheri partes trahenda est Anglia. Ibid. 
Metu et admiratione affectus. Ibid. 
|| Abiit igitur clam ad H. Rineke. Ibid. 



TYNDALE RESCUES HIS WORK. 243 

inquiries, who reported to him that Cochlseus's information 
was correct, and that he had found in the printing office a 
large supply of paper intended for the edition.* The patri- 
cian immediately proceeded to the senate, and spoke of 
Wolsey, of Henry VIIL, and of the preservation of the 
Romish church in England ; and that body which, under the 
influence of the archbishop, had long since forgotten the 
rights of liberty, forbade the printer to continue the work. 
Thus, then, there were to be no New Testaments for Eng- 
land ! A practised hand had warded off the blow aimed at 
Roman-catholicism ; Tyndale would perhaps be thrown into 
prison, and Cochlaeus enjoy a complete triumph. 

Tyndale was at first confounded. Were so many years 
of toil lost, then, for ever? His trial seemed beyond his 
strength.-}- " They are ravening wolves," he exclaimed, 
" they preach to others, Steal not, and yet they have robbed 
the sftul of man of the bread of life, and fed her with the 
shales [shells ?] and cods of the hope in their merits and 
confidencein their good works." J Yet Tyndale did not long 
remain cast down; for his faith was of that kind which 
would remove mountains. Is it not the word of God that 
is imperilled ? If he does not abandon himself, God will not 
abandon him. He must anticipate the senate of Cologne. 
Daring and prompt in all his movements, Tyndale bade 
Roye follow him, hastened to the printing office, collected 
(he sheets, jumped into a boat, and rapidly ascended the 
river, carrying with him the hope of England. 

When Cochlaeus and Rincke, accompanied by the officers 
of the senate, reached the printing office, they were sur- 
prised beyond measure. The apostate had secured the 

abominable papers! Their enemy had escaped like a 

bird from the net of the fowler. Where was he to be found 
now ? He would no doubt go and place himself under the 

* Ingentem papyri copiam ibi existere. Cochlaeus, p. 131. 

f Necessity and combrance (God is record) above strength. Tynd. 
Doctr. Tr. p. 390. 

J Tyndale, Expositions, p. 123 (Parker Society). 

Arreptis sccnm quaternionibus impressis aufugerunt navigio per 
Rhenum aeoendentea. Ooohl. p. 126. 



244 COCHL-SIUS WRITES TO HENRT. 

protection of some Lutheran prince, whither Cochlscus would 
take good care not to pursue him ; but there was one re- 
source left. These English books can do no harm in Ger- 
many ; they must be prevented reaching London. He wrote 
to Henry VIII., to Wolsey, and to the bishop of Rochester. 
" Two Englishmen," said he to the king, " like the two 
eunuchs who desired to lay hands on Ahasuerus, are plot- 
ting wickedly against the peace of your kingdom ; but I, 
like the faithful Mordecai,* will lay open their designs to 
you. They wish to send the New Testament in English to 
your people. Give orders at every seaport to prevent the 
introduction of this most baneful merchandise." f Such was 
the name given by this zealous follower of the pope to the 
word of God. An unexpected ally soon restored peace to 
the soul of Cochlseus. The celebrated Dr Eck, a champion 
of popery far more formidable than he was, had arrived at 
Cologne on his way to London, and he undertook to arouse 
the anger of the bishops and of the king. \ The eyes of the 
greatest opponents of the Reformation seemed now to be 
fixed on England. Eck, who boasted of having gained the 
most signal triumphs over Luther, would easily get the bet- 
ter of the humble tutor and his New Testament. 

During this time Tyndale, guarding his precious bales, 
ascended the rapid river as quickly as he could. He passed be- 
fore the antique cities and the smiling villages scattered along 
the banks of the Rhine amidst scenes of picturesque beauty. 
The mountains, glens, and rocks, the dark forests, the ruined 
fortresses, the gothic churches, the boats that passed and 
repassed each other, the birds of prey that soared over his 
head, as if they bore a mission from Cochlaeus nothing 
could turn his eyes from the treasure he was carrying with 
him. At last, after a voyage of five or six days, he reached 
Worms, where Luther, four years before, had exclaimed : 
"Here I stand, I can do no other; may God help me!" 

* He was indebted to me no less than Ahasuerus was indebted to Mor- 
decai. Annals of the Bible, i. p. 61. 

t Ut quam diligentissime prsecaverint in omnibus Angliae portubus, 
ne merx ilia perniciosissima inveheretur. Cochlaeus, p. 126. 

J Ad quern Doctor Eckius venit, dum in Angliam teoderet. Ibid. p. 109. 

See above, book rii chapter viii. 



TTKDALE ABRFVES AT WORMS. 245 

These words of the German reformer, so well known to 
Tyndale, were the star that had guided him to Worms. 
He knew that the gospel was preached in that ancient city. 
" The citizens are subject to fits of Lutheranism," said Coch- 
laeus.* Tyndale arrived there, not as Luther did, sur- 
rounded by an immense crowd, but unknown, and imagin- 
ing himself pursued by the myrmidons of Charles and of 
Henry. As he landed from the boat he cast an uneasy 
glance around him, and laid down his precious burden on 
the bank of the river. 

He had had time to reflect on the dangers which threatened 
his work. As his enemies would have marked the edition, 
some few sheets of it having fallen into their hands, he 
took steps to mislead the inquisitors, and began a new edi- 
tion, striking out the prologue and the notes, and substitut- 
ing the more portable octavo form for the original quarto. 
Peter Schoeffer, the grandson of Fust, one of the inventors of 
printing, lent his presses for this important work. The two 
editions were quietly completed about the end of the year 

1525. f 

Thus were the wicked deceived: they would have de- 
prived the English people of the oracles of God, and two 
editions were now ready to enter England. " Give dili- 
gence," said Tyndale to his fellow-countrymen, as he sent 
from Worms the Testament he had just translated, " unto 
the words of eternal life, by the which, if we repent and 
believe them, we are born anew, created afresh, and enjoy 
the fruits of the blood of Christ." J In the beginning of 

1526, these books crossed the sea by way of Antwerp or 
Rotterdam. Tyndale was happy; but he knew that the 
unction of the Holy Ghost alone could enable the people of 
England to understand these sacred pages ; and accord- 
ingly he followed them night and day with his prayers. 

* Ascendentes Wormatiam nbi plebs pleno furore lutherisabat. Coch- 
Ireus, p. 126. 

+ A copy of the octavo edition exists in the Museum of the Baptist Col- 
lege at Bristol. If it is compared with the quarto edition, a sensible pro- 
gress will be found in the orthography. Thus we read in the latter ; 
prophettes, synners, moostt, tekynge ; in the octavo we find, prophets, sin- 
ners, west, teking. Annals of the Bible, i. p. 70. Epiat. in init. 



246 TYNDALE'S PRAYER. 

" The scribes and pharisees," said he, " had thrust up the 
sword of the word of God in a scabbard or sheath of glosses, 
and therein had knit it fast, so that it could neither stick nor 
cut.* Now, God, draw this sharp sword from the scab- 
bard. Strike, wound, cut asunder, the soul and the flesh, so 
that man being divided in two, and set at variance with 
himself, may be in peace with thee to aU eternity!" 



CHAPTER XII. 

Worms and Cambridge St Paul resuscitated Latimer's Preaching 
Never Man spake like this Man Joy and Vexation at Cambridge 
Sermon by Prior Buckingham Irony Latimer's Reply to Bucking- 
ham The Students threatened Latimer preaches before the Bishop 
He is forbidden to preach The most zealous of Bishops Barnes the 
Restorer of Letters Bilney undertakes to convert him Barnes offers 
his Pulpit to Latimer Fryth's Thirst for God Christmas Eve, 1525 
Storm against Barnes Ferment in the Colleges Germany at Cam- 
bridgeMeetings at Oxford General Expectation. 

WHILE these works were accomplishing at Cologne and 
Worms, others were going on at Cambridge and Oxford. 
On the banks of the Rhine they were preparing the seed ; 
in England they were drawing the furrows to receive it. 
The gospel produced a great agitation at Cambridge. Bil- 
ney, whom we may call the father of the English Reforma- 
tion, since, being the first converted by the New Testament, 
he had brought to the knowledge of God the energetic Lati- 
mer, and so many other witnesses of the truth, Bilney did 
not at that time put himself forward, like many of those who 
had listened to him : his vocation was prayer. Timid before 
men, he was full of boldness before God, and day and night 
called upon him for souls. But while he was kneeling in his 
closet, others were at work in the world. Among these 

* Tyndale's Works, ii. p 378 ; or Expositions (Matthew), p. 131 
(Park. Soc.) 



WORMS AND CAMBRIDGE ST PAUL REVIVED. 247 

Stafford was particularly remarkable. " Paul is risen from 
the dead," said many as they heard him. And in fact Staf- 
ford explained with so much life the true meaning of the 
words of the apostle and of the four evangelists, * that these 
holy men, whose faces had been so long hidden under the 
dense traditions of the schools, -{ reappeared before the youth 
of the university such as the apostolic times had beheld 
them. But it was not only their persons (for that would 
have been a trifling matter), it was their doctrine which 
Stafford laid before his hearers. While the schoolmen of 
Cambridge were declaring to their pupils a reconciliation 
which was not yet worked out, and telling them that pardon 
must be purchased by the works prescribed by the church, 
Stafford taught that redemption was accomplished, that the 
satisfaction offered by Jesus Christ was perfect; and he 
added, that popery having revived the kingdom of the law, 
God, by the Reformation, was now reviving the kingdom of 
grace. The Cambridge students, charmed by their master's 
teaching, greeted him with applause, and, indulging a little 
too far in their enthusiasm, said to one another as they left 
the lecture-room : " Which is the most indebted to the 
other ? Stafford to Paul, who left him the holy epistles ; or 
Paul to Stafford, who has resuscitated that apostle and his 
holy doctrines, which the middle ages had obscured?" 

Above Bilney and Stafford rose Latimer, who, by the 
power of the Holy Ghost, transfused into other hearts the 
learned lessons of his master. \ Being informed of the 
work that Tyndale was preparing, he maintained from the 
Cambridge pulpits that the Bible ought to be read in the 
vulgar tongue. " The author of Holy Scripture," said he, 

"is the Mighty One, the Everlasting God himself! 

and this Scripture partakes of the might and eternity of its 

* He set forth in his lectures the native sense. Thomas Becon, ii. p. 
426. 

t Obscured through the darkness and mists of the papists. Ibid. 

J A private instructor to the rest of his brethren within the university. 
Foxe, 'Acts, vii. p. 438. 

He proved in his sermons that the Holy Scriptures ought to be read 
in the English tongue of all Christian people. Becon, vol. ii. p. 421 
(Park. Soo.) 



248 LATIMER S PREACHING. 

author. There is neither king nor emperor that is not 
bound to obey it. Let us beware of those bypaths of human 
tradition, filled of stones, brambles, and uprooted trees. Let 
us follow the stiaight road of the word. It does not concern 
us what the Fathers have done, but what they should have 
done."* 

A numerous congregation crowded to Latimer's preaching, 
and his hearers hung listening to his lips. One in particu- 
lar attracted attention. He was a Norfolk youth, sixteen 
years of age, whose features were lighted up with under- 
standing and piety. .This poor scholar had received with 
eagerness the truth announced by the former cross-bearer. 
He did not miss one of his sermons ; with a sheet of paper 
on his knees, and a pencil in his hand, he took down part of 
the discourse, trusting the remainder to his memory, -j- This 
was Thomas Becon, afterwards chaplain to Cranmer, arch- 
bishop of Canterbury. " If I possess the knowledge of God,'' 
said he, " I owe it (under God) to Latimer." 

Latimer had hearers of many sorts. By the side of those 
who gave way to their enthusiasm stood men " swelling, 
blown full, and puffed up like unto Esop's frog, with envy 
and malice against him," said Becon ; J these were the parti- 
sans of traditional Catholicism, whom curiosity had attracted, 
or whom their evangelical friends had dragged to the church. 
But as Latimer spoke, a marvellous transformation was 
worked in them; by degrees their angry features relaxed, 
their fierce looks grew softer; and, if these friends of the 
priests were asked, after their return home, what they thought 
of the heretic preacher, they replied, in the exaggeration of 
their surprise and rapture : " Nunquam sic locutus est homoj 
sicut hie homo I " (John vii. 46.) 

When he descended from the pulpit, Latimer hastened to 
practise what he had taught. He visited the narrow cham- 
bers of the poor scholars, and the dark rooms of the working 
classes : " he watered with good deeds whatsoever he had 

* We find his opinions upon that subject in a later sermon. Latimer's 
Sermons, p. 9R, 97 (Park. Soc.) 

t A poor scholar of Cambridge but a child of sixteen years. Be- 

ton'i Works, u. p. 424., Ibid. p. 425. 



JOT AND ANGER AT CAMBRIDGE. 249 

before planted with godly words,"* said the student who 
collected his discourses. The disciples conversed together 
with joy and simplicity of heart ; everywhere the breath of 
a new life was felt; as yet no external reforms had been 
effected, and yet the spiritual church of the gospel and of 
the Reformation was already there. And thus the recollec- 
tion of these happy times was long commemorated in the 
adage : 

When Master Stafford read, 

And Master Latimer preached, 

Then was Cambridge blessed.f 

The priests could not remain inactive : they heard speak 
of grace and liberty, and would have nothing to do with 
either. If grace is tolerated, will it not take from the hands 
of the clergy the manipulation of salvation, indulgences, 
penance, and all the rubrics of the canon law ? If liberty is 
conceded, will not the hierarchy, with all its degrees, pomps, 
violence, and scaffolds, be shaken? Rome desires no other 
liberty than that of free-will, which, exalting the natural 
strength of fallen man, dries up as regards mankind the 
springs of divine life, withers Christianity, and changes that 
heavenly religion into a human moralism and legal obser- 
vances. 

The friends of popery, therefore, collected their forces to 
oppose the new religion. " Satan, who never sleeps," says 
the simple chronicler, " called up his familiar spirits, and 
sent them forth against the reformers." Meetings were held 
in the convents, but particularly in that belonging to the 
Greyfriars. They mustered all their forces. An eye for an 
eye, and a tooth for a tooth, said they. Latimer extols in his 
sermons the blessings of Scripture ; we must deliver a ser- 
mon also to show its dangers. But where was the orator to 
be found who could cope with him ? This was a very em- 
barrassing question to the clerical party. Among the Grey- 
friars there was a haughty monk, adroit and skilful in little 
matters, and full at once of ignorance and pride : it was the 
prior Buckingham. No one had shown more hatred against 
the evangelical Christians, and no one was in truth a greater 
Becon's Works, ii. p. 425. f Ibid. 

L2 



250 THE PRIOR'S SERMON. 

stranger to the gospel. This was the man commissioned to 
set forth the dangers of the word of God. He was by no 
means familiar with the New Testament ; he opened it how- 
ever, picked out a few passages here and there which seemed 
to favour his thesis, and then, arrayed in his costliest robes, 
with head erect and solemn step already sure of victory, he 
went into the pulpit, combated the heretic, and with pomp- 
ous voice stormed against the reading of the Bible ;* it was 
in his eyes the fountain of all heresies and misfortunes. " If 
that heresy should prevail," he exclaimed, " there will be an 
end of everything useful among us. The ploughman, read- 
ing in the gospel that no man having put his hand to the 

plough should look back, would soon lay aside his labour 

The baker, reading that a little leaven leaveneth the whole 
lump, will in future make us nothing but very insipid bread ; 
and the simple man finding himself commanded to pluck out 
the right eye and cast it from thee, England, after a few years, 
will be a frightful spectacle ; it will be little better than a 
nation of blind and one-eyed men, sadly begging their bread 
from door to door."-J- 

This discourse moved that part of the audience for which 
it was intended. " The heretic is silenced," said the monks 
and clerks; but sensible people smiled, and Latimer was. 
delighted that they had given him such an adversary. Being 
of a lively disposition and inclined to irony, he resolved to lash 
the platitudes of the pompous friar. There are some ab- 
surdities, he thought, which can only be refuted by showing 
how foolish they are. Does not even the grave Tertullian 
speak of things which are only to be laughed at, for fear of 
giving them importance by a serious refutation ? J " Next 
Sunday I will reply to him," said Latimer. 

The church was crowded when Buckingham, with the 
hood of St Francis on his shoulders and with a vain-glorious 
air, took his place solemnly in front of the preacher. Lati- 

* With great pomp and prolixity. Gilpin's Life of Latimer, p. 8. 

f The nation full of blind beggars. Ibid. 

J Si et ridebitur alicubi materiis ipsis satisfiet, Multa sunt sic digna. 
revinci, ne gravitate adorentur. Contra Valentin : vi. See also Pascal's 
Provincials, Letter xi. 



LATIMER'S REPLY. 251 

mer began by recapitulating the least weak of his adver- 
sary's arguments ; then taking them up one by one, he 
turned them over and over, and pointed out all their ab- 
surdity with so much wit that the poor prior was buried in 
his own nonsense. Then turning towards the listening 
crowd, he exclaimed with warmth : " This is how your skil- 
ful guides abuse your understanding. They look upon you 
as children that must be for ever kept in leading-strings. 
Now, the hour of your majority has arrived ; boldly examine 
the Scriptures, and you will easily discover the absurdity of 
the teaching of your doctors." And then desirous, as Solo- 
mon has it, of answering a fool according to his folly, he 
added : " As for the comparisons drawn from the plough, 
the leaven, and the eye, of which the reverend prior has 
made so singular a use, is it necessary to justify these 
passages of Scripture ? Must I tell you what plough, what 
leaven, what eye is here meant ? Is not our Lord's teaching 
distinguished by those expressions which, under a popular 
form, conceal a spiritual and profound meaning ? Do not 
we know that in all languages and in all speeches, it is not 
on the image that we must fix our eyes, but on the thing 

which the image represents? For instance," he continued, 

and as he said these words he cast a piercing glance on the 
prior, " if we see a fox painted preaching in a friar's hood, 
nobody imagines that a fox is meant, but that craft and 
hypocrisy are described, which are so often found disguised 
in that garb."* At these words the poor prior, on whom 
the eyes of all the congregation were turned, rose and left 
the church hastily, and ran off to his convent to hide his 
rage and confusion among his brethren. The monks and 
their creatures uttered loud cries against Latimer. It was 
unpardonable (they said) to have been thus wanting in 
respect to the cowl of St Francis. But his friends replied : 
" Do we not whip children? and he who treats Scripture 
worse than a child, does he not deserve to be well flogged?" 
The Romish party did not consider themselves beaten. 
The heads of colleges and the priests held frequent con- 
ferences. The professors were desired to watch carefully 
* Gilpin's Life of Latimer, p. 10. 



252 THE STUDENTS THREATENED. 

over their pupils, and to lead them back to the teaching of 
the church by flattery and by threats. " We are putting 
our lance in rest," they told the students ; " if you become 
evangelicals, your advancement is at an end." But these 
open-hearted generous youths loved rather to be poor with 
Christ, than rich with the priests. Stafford continued to 
teach, Latimer to preach, and Bilney to visit the poor : the 
doctrine of Christ ceased not to be spread abroad, and souls 
to be converted. 

One weapon only was left to the schoolmen ; this was 
persecution, the favourite arm of Rome. " Our enterprise 
has not succeeded," said they ; " Buckingham is a fool. 
The best way of answering these gospellers is to prevent 
their speaking." Dr West, bishop of Ely, was ordinary of 
Cambridge ; they called for his intervention, and he ordered 
one of the doctors to inform him the next time Latimer 
was to preach ; " but," added he, " do not say a word to any 
one. I wish to come without being expected." 

One day as Latimer was preaching in Latin ad *lerum, 
the bishop suddenly entered the university church, attended 
by a number of priests. Latimer stopped, waiting respect- 
fully until West and his train had taken their places. " A 
new audience," thought he; "and besides an audience worthy 
of greater honour calls for a new theme. Leaving, there- 
fore, the subject I had proposed, I will take up one that 
relates to the episcopal charge, and will preach on these 
words : Christus existens Pontifex futurorum bonorum." 
(Hebrews ix. 11.) Then describing Jesus Christ, Latimer 
represented him as the " true and perfect pattern unto all 
other bishops."* There was not a single virtue pointed out 
in the divine bishop that did not correspond with some de- 
fect in the Romish bishops. Latimer's caustic wit had a 
free course at their expense ; but there was so much gravity 
in his sallies, and so lively a Christianity in his descriptions, 
that every one must have felt them to be the cries of a 
Christian conscience rather than the sarcasms of an ill- 
natured disposition. Never had bishop been taught by one 
of his priests like this man. " Alas ! " said many, " our 
Strype'f Eccles. Mem. iii. p. 369. 



LAT1MER PREACHES BEFORE THE BISHOP. 253 

bishops are not of that breed : they are descended from 
Annas and Caiaphas." West was not more at his ease 
than Buckingham had been formerly. He stifled his anger, 
however ; and after the sermon, said to Latimer with a gra- 
cious accent : " You have excellent talents, and if you would 

do one thing I should be ready to kiss your feet."* 

What humility in a bishop! " Preach in this same 

church," continued West, "a sermon against Martin 

Luther. That is the best way of checking heresy." Lati- 
mer understood the prelate's meaning, and replied calmly : 
." If Luther preaches the word of God, I cannot oppose him. 
But if he teaches the contrary, I am ready to attack him." 
" Well, well, Master Latimer," exclaimed the bishop, " I 

perceive that you smell somewhat of the pan.-}- One day 

or another you will repent of that merchandise." 

West having left Cambridge in great irritation against 
that rebellious clerk, hastened to convoke his chapter, and 
forbade Latimer to preach either in the university or in the 
diocese. " All that will live godly shall suffer persecution," 
St Paul had said; Latimer was now experiencing the 
truth of the saying. It was not enough that the name of 
heretic had been given him by the priests and their friends, 

and that the passers-by insulted him in the streets; the 

work of God was violently checked. " Behold then," he ex- 
claimed with a bitter sigh, " the use of the episcopal office 

to hinder the preaching of Jesus Christ!" Some few 

years later he sketched, with his usual caustic irony, the 
portrait of a certain bishop, of whom Luther also used fre- 
quently to speak : " Do you know," said Latimer, " who is 

the most diligentest bishop and prelate in all England ? 

I see you listening and hearkening that I should name him 

I will tell you It is the devil. He is never out of 

his diocese ; ye shall never find him out of the way ; call for 
him when you will, he's ever at home. He is ever at his 
plough. Ye shall never find him idle, I warrant you. Where 
the devil is resident there away with books and up with 
candles ; away with bibles and up with beads ; away with 

* I will kneel down and kiss your foot. Strype's Eccl. Mem. iii. p. 369. 
t Ibid. p. 870. 



254 EGBERT BARNES. 

the light of the gospel and up with the light of candles, yea 
at noondays ; down with Christ's cross, up with purgatory 
pickpurse ; away with clothing the naked, the poor, and im- 
potent, up with decking of images and gay garnishing of 
stocks and stones ; down with God's traditions and his most 

holy word Oh ! that our prelates would be as diligent to 

sow the corn of good doctrine as Satan is to sow cockle and 
darnel !"* Truly may it be said, " There was never such a 
preacher in England as he is."f 

The reformer was not satisfied with merely speaking : he 
acted. " Neither the menacing words of his adversaries nor 
their cruel imprisonments," says one of his contemporaries,^: 
" could hinder him from proclaiming God's truth." Forbid- 
den to preach in the churches, he went about from house to 
house. He longed for a pulpit, however, and this he ob- 
tained. A haughty prelate had in vain interdicted his 
preaching; Jesus Christ, who is above all bishops, is able, 
wlfen one door is shut, to open another. Instead of one great 
preacher there were soon two at Cambridge. 

An Augustine monk named Robert Barnes, a native of 
the county of Norfolk, and a great scholar, had gone to 
Louvain .to prosecute his studies. Here he received the 
degree of doctor of divinity, and having returned to Cam- 
bridge, was nominated prior of his monastery in 1523. It was 
his fortune to reconcile learning and the gospel in the uni- 
versity ; but by leaning too much to learning he diminished the 
force of the word of God. A great crowd collected every day 
in the Augustine convent to hear his lectures upon Terence, 
and in particular upon Cicero. Many of those who were 
offended by the simple Christianity of Bilney and Latimer, 
were attracted by this reformer of another kind. Coleman, 
Coverdalc, Field, Cambridge, Barley, and many other young 
men of the university, gathered round Barnes and proclaimed 
him " the restorer of letters." 

* Latimer's Sermons (Park. Soc.) vol. i. p. 70. Sermon of the Plough. 

t Ibid. p. 72. 

J He adds : Whatsoever he had once preached, he valiantly defended 
the same. Becon, vol. h. p. 424. 

The great restorer of good learning. Strype, i. p. 568 ; Foxe, Acts. 
T.p.415. 



HIS LECTURES. 255 

But the classics were only a preparatory teaching. The 
masterpieces of antiquity having aided Barnes to clear the 
soil, he opened before his class the epistles of St Paul. He 
did not understand their divine depth, like Stafford ; he was 
not, like him, anointed with the Holy Ghost; he differed 
from him on several of the apostle's doctrines, on justifica- 
tion by faith, and on the new creature ; but Barnes was an 
enlightened and liberal man, not without some degree of 
piety, and desirous, like Stafford, of substituting the teach- 
ing of Scripture for the barren disputations of the school. 
But they soon came into collision, and Cambridge long re- 
membered that celebrated discussion in which Barnes and 
Stafford contended with so much renown, employing no 
other weapons than the word of God, to the great astonish- 
ment of the blind doctors, and the great joy of the clear- 
sighted, says the chronicler.* 

Barnes was not as yet thoroughly enlightened, and the 
friends of the gospel were astonished that a man, a stranger 
to the truth, should deal such heavy blows against error. 
Bilney, whom we continually meet with when any secret 
work, a work of irresistible charity, is in hand, Bilney, 
who had converted Latimer, undertook to convert Barnes ; 
and Stafford, Arthur, Thistel of Pembroke, and Fooke of 
Benet's, earnestly prayed God to grant his assistance. The 
experiment was difficult : Barnes had reached that juste 
milieu, that " golden mean" of the humanists, that intoxica- 
tion of learning and glory, which render conversion more 
difficult. Besides, could a man like Bilney really dare to 
instruct the restorer of antiquity ? But the humble bachelor 
of arts, so simple in appearance, knew, like David of old, a 
secret power by which the Goliath of the university might 
be vanquished. He passed days and nights in prayer ; and 
then urged Barnes openly to manifest his convictions with- 
out fearing the reproaches of the world. After many conver- 
sations and prayers, Barnes was converted to the gospel of 
Jesus Christ, f Still, the prior retained something undecided 

* Marvellous in the sight of the great blind doctors. Foxe, Acts, v. 
p. 415. 

t Bilney converted Dr Barnes to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Foie, 
Acts, ir. p. WO. 



256 BARNES CONVERTED BY BILNEY JOHN FRYTH. 

in his character, and only half relinquished thai middle state 
with which he had begun. For instance, he appears to have 
always believed in the efficacy of sacerdotal consecration to 
transform the bread and wine into the body and blood of 
Christ. His eye was not single, and his mind was often 
agitated and driven to and fro by contrary thoughts : " Alas !" 
said this divided character one day, " I confess that my co- 
gitations be innumerable."* 

Barnes, having come to a knowledge of the truth, im- 
mediately displayed a zeal that was somewhat imprudent. 
Men of the least decided character, and even those who are 
destined to make a signal fall, are often those who begin 
their course with the greatest ardour. Barnes seemed pre- 
pared at this time to withstand all England. Being now 
united to Latimer by a tender Christian affection, he was in- 
dignant that the powerful voice of his friend should be lost 
to the church. " The bishop has forbidden you to preach,' ; 
he said to him, " but my monastery is not under episcopal 
hirisdiction. You can preach there." Latimer went into the 
pulpit at the Augustines', and the church could not contain 
the crowd that flocked to it. At Cambridge, as at Wittem- 
berg, the chapel of the Augustine monks was used for the 
first struggles of the gospel. It was here that Latimer de- 
livered some of his best sermons. 

A very different man from Latimer, and particularly from 
Barnes, was daily growing in influence among the English 
reformers : this was Fryth. No one was more humble than 
he, and on that very account no one was stronger. He was 
less brilliant than Barnes, but more solid. He might have 
penetrated into the highest departments of science, but he 
was drawn away by the deep mysteries of God's word ; the 
call of conscience prevailed over that of the understanding.-j- 
He did not devote the energy of his soul to difficult ques- 
tions ; he thirsted for God, for his truth, and for his love. 
Instead of propagating his particular opinions and forming 

* Foxe, Acts, v. p. 434. 

t Notwithstanding his other manifold and singular gifts and orna* 
ments of the mind, in him most pregnant. Tyndale and Frytli's Works, 
iii. p. 73. 



CHRISTMAS EVE, 1525. 257 

divisions, he clung only to the faith which saves, and ad- 
vanced the dominion of true unity. This is the mark of the 
great servants of God. Humble before the Lord, mild before 
men, and even in appearance somewhat timid, Fryth in the 
face of danger displayed an intrepid courage. " My learning 
is small," he said, " but the little I have I am determined to 
give to Jesus Christ for the building of his temple."* 

Latimer's sermons, Barnes's ardour, and Fryth's firmness, 
excited fresh zeal at Cambridge. They knew what was go- 
ing on in Germany and Switzerland; shall the English, ever 
in front, now remain in the rear ? Shall not Latimer, Bil- 
ney, Stafford, Barnes, and Fryth do what the servants of 
God are doing in other places ? 

A secret ferment announced an approaching crisis : every 
one expected some change for better or for worse. The 
evangelicals, confident in the truth, and thinking themselves 
sure of victory, resolved to fall upon the enemy simultane- 
ously on several points. The Sunday before Christmas, in 
the year 1525, was chosen for this great attack. While 
Latimer should address the crowds that continued to fill the 
Augustine chapel, and others were preaching in other places, 
Barnes was to deliver a sermon in one of the churches in the 
town. But nothing compromises the gospel so much as a 
disposition turned towards outward things. God, who grants 
his blessing only to undivided hearts, permitted this general 
assault, of which Barnes was to be the hero, to be marked 
by a defeat. The prior, as he went into the pulpit, thought 
only of "Wolsey. As the representative of the popedom in 
England, the cardinal was the great obstacle to the Reforma- 
tion. Barnes preached from the epistle for the day : Rejoice 
in the Lord alway.-^ But instead of announcing Christ and 
the joy of the Christian, he imprudently declaimed against 
the luxury, pride, and diversions of the churchmen, and 
everybody understood that he aimed at the cardinal. He 
described those magnificent palaces, that brilliant suite, 
those scarlet robes, and pearls, and gold, and precious stones, 

* That is very small, nevertheless that little. Tyndale and Fryth's 
Works, iii. p. 83. 
t Philippians iv. 4-7. 

VOL. V. 12 



258 BTOKM AGAINST BARNES. 

and all the prelate's ostentation, so little in keeping (said he) 
with the stable of Bethlehem. Two fellows of King's Col- 
lege, Robert Eidley and Walter Preston, relations of Ton- 
stall, bishop of London, who were intentionally among the 
congregation, noted down in their tablets the prior's impru- 
dent expressions. 

The sermon was scarcely over when the storm broke 
out. "These people are not satisfied with propagating 
monstrous heresies," exclaimed their enemies, "but they 
must find fault with the powers that be. To-day they 
attack the cardinal, to-morrow they will attack the king!" 
Ridley and Preston accused Barnes to the vice-chan- 
cellor. All Cambridge was in commotion. What ! Barnes 
the Augustine prior, the restorer of letters, accused as 

a Lollard! The gospel was threatened with a danger 

more formidable than a prison or a scaffold. The friends of 
the priests, knowing Barnes's weakness, and even his 
vanity, hoped to obtain of him a disavowal that would 
cover the evangelical party with shame. "What!" said 
these dangerous counsellors to him, " the noblest career was 

open to you, and would you close it? Do, pray, explain 

away your sermon." They alarmed, they flattered him ; 
and the poor prior was near yielding to their solicitations. 
" Next Sunday you will read this declaration," they said to 
him. Barnes -ran over the paper put into his hands, and 
saw no great harm in it. However he desired to show it to 
Bilney and Stafford. " Beware of such weakness," said 
these faithful men. Barnes then recalled his promise, and 
for a season the enemies of the gospel were silent. 

Its friends worked with increased energy. The fall from 
which one of their companions had so narrowly escaped 
inspired them with fresh zeal. The more indecision and 
weakness Barnes had shown, the more did his brethren flee 
to God for courage and firmness. It was reported, more- 
over, that a powerful ally was coming across the sea, and 
that the Holy Scriptures, translated into the vulgar tongue, 
were at last to be given to the people. Wherever the word 
was preached, there the congregation was largest. It was 
the seed-time of the church : all were busy in the fields to 



GERMANY AT CAMBRIDGE. 259 

prepare the soil and trace the furrows. Seven colleges at 
least were in full ferment: Pembroke, St John's, Queens', 
King's, Caius, Benet's, and Peterhouse. The gospel was 
preached at the Augustines', at Saint Mary's (the Univer- 
sity church,) and in other places, and when the bells rang to 
prayers, the streets were alive with students issuing from 
the colleges, and hastening to the sermon,* 

There was at Cambridge a house called the White Horse, 
so situated as to permit the most timid members of King's, 
Queens', and St John's Colleges, to enter at the rear without 
being perceived. In every age Nicodemus has had his fol- 
lowers. Here those persons used to assemble who desired 
to read the Bible and the works of the German reformers. 
The priests, looking upon Wittemberg as the focus of the 
Reformation, named this house Germany: the people will 
always have their bywords. At first the frequenters of the 
White Horse were called Sophists; and now, whenever a 
group of :: fellows" was seen walking in that direction, the 
cry was, "There are the Germans going to Germany." 
" We are not Germans," was the reply, " neither are we 
Romans." The Greek New Testament had made them 
Christians. The gospel-meetings had never been more fer- 
vent. Some attended them to communicate the new life 
they possessed ; others to receive what God had given to 
the more advanced brethren. The Holy Spirit united them 
all, and thus, by the fellowship of the saints, were real 
churches created. To these young Christians the word of 
God was the source of so much light, that they imagined 
themselves transported to that heavenly city of which the 
Scriptures speak, which had no need of the sun, for the glory 
of God did lighten it. " So oft as I was in the company of 
these brethren," said a youthful student of St John's, " me- 
thought I was quietly placed in the new glorious Jerusa- 
lem." f 

Similar things were taking place at Oxford. In 1524 and 
1525, Wolsey had successively invited thither several Cam- 
bridge fellows, and although only seeking the most able, lie 

* Flocked together in open street. Strype, Mem. i. p. 568. 
t Becon, ii. p. 42. 



260 MEETINGS AT OXFORD. 

found that he had taken some of the most pious. Besides 
John Clark, there were Richard Cox, John Fryer, Godfrey 
Harman, W. Betts, Henry Sumner, W. Baily, Michael 
Drumm, Th. Lawny, and, lastly, the excellent John Fryth. 
These Christians, associating with Clark, with his faithful 
Dalaber, and with other evangelicals of Oxford, held meet- 
ings, like their Cambridge brethren, at which God manifested 
his presence. The bishops made war upon the gospel ; the 
king supported them with all his power ; but the word had 
gained the victory ; there was no longer any doubt. The 
church was born again in England. 

The great movement of the sixteenth century had begun 
more particularly among the younger doctors and students 
at Oxford and Cambridge. From them it was necessary 
that it should be extended to the people, and for that end 
the New Testament, hitherto read in Latin and in Greek, 
must be circulated in English. The voices of these youthful 
evangelists were heard, indeed, in London and in the pro- 
vinces, but their exhortations would have been insufficient, 
if the mighty hand which directs all things had not made 
this Christian activity coincide with that holy work for 
which it had set Tyndale apart. While all was agitation in 
England, the waves of ocean were bearing from the conti- 
nent to the banks of the Thames those Scriptures of God, 
which, three centuries later, multiplied by thousands and by 
millions, and, translated into a hundred and fifty tongues, 
were to be wafted from the same banks to the ends of the 
world. If in the fifteenth century, and even in the early 
years of the sixteenth, the English New Testament had been 
brought to London, it would only have fallen into the hands 
of a few Lollards. Now, in every place, in the parsonages, 
the universities, and the palaces, as well as in the cottages 
of the husbandmen and the shops of the tradesmen, there 
was an ardent desire to possess the Holy Scriptures. The 
fiat lux was about to be uttered over the chaos of the church, 
and light to be separated from darkness by the word of 
God. 



BOOK XIX. 

TEDS ENGLISH NEW TESTAMENT AND THE COURT OF BOMB. 

CHAPTER I. 

Church and State essentially distinct Their fundamental Principles 
What restores Life to the Church Separation from Rome necessary 
Reform and Liberty The New Testament crosses the Sea Is hidden 
in London Garret's Preaching and Zeal Dissemination of Scripture 
What the People find in it The Effects it produces Tyndale's 
Explanations Roper, More's Son-in-law Garret carries Tyndale's 
Testament to Oxford Henry and his Valet The Supplication of the 
Beggars Two Sorts of Beggars Evils caused by Priests More's 
Supplications of the Souls in Purgatory. 

THE Church and the State are essentially distinct. They 
both receive their task from God, but that task is different 
in each. The task of the church is to lead men to God ; the 
task of the state is to secure the earthly development of a 
people in conformity with its peculiar character. There are 
certain bounds, traced by the particular spirit of each nation 
within which the state should confine itself; while the church, 
whose limits are co-extensive with the human race, has a 
universal character, which raises it above all national differ- 
ences. These two distinctive features should be maintained. 
A state which aims at universality loses itself; a church 
whose mind and aim are sectarian falls away. Neverthe- 
less, the church and the state, the two poles of social life, 
while they are in many respects opposed to one another, are 
far from excluding each other absolutely. The church has 
need of that justice, order, and liberty, which the state is 
bound to maintain ; but the state has especial need of the 
church. If Jesus can do without kings to establish big 



262 CHURCH AND STATE. 

kingdom, kings cannot do without Jesus, if they would have 
their kingdoms prosper. Justice, which is the fundamental 
principle of the state, is continually fettered in its progress 
by the internal power of sin ; and as force can do nothing 
against this power, the state requires the gospel in order tr 
overcome it. That country will always be the most pros- 
perous where the church is the most evangelical. These 
two communities having thus need one of the other, we 
must be prepared, whenever a great religious manifesta- 
tion takes place in the world, to witness the appearance on 
the scene not only of the little ones, but of the great ones also, 
of the state. We must not then be surprised to meet with 
Henry VIII., but let us endeavour to appreciate accurately 
the part he played. 

If the Reformation, particularly in England, happened 
necessarily to be mixed up with the state, with the world 
even, it originated neither in the state nor in the world. 
There was much worldliness in the age of Henry VIII., 
passions, violence, festivities, a trial, a divorce ; and some 
historians call that the history of the Reformation in Eng- 
land. We shall not pass by in silence these manifestations 
of the worldly life ; opposed as they are to the Christian life, 
they are in history, and it is not our business to tear them 
out. But most assuredly they are not the Reformation. 
From a very different quarter proceeded the divine light 
which then rose upon th human race. 

To say that Henry VIII. was the reformer of his people is 
to betray our ignorance of history. The kingly power in 
England by turns opposed and favoured the reform in the 
church ; but it opposed before it favoured, and much more 
than it favoured. This great transformation was begun and 
extended by its own strength, by the Spirit from on high. 

When the church has lost the life that is peculiar to it, it 
must again put itself in communication with its creative 
principle, that is, with the word of God. Just as the buckets 
of a wheel employed in irrigating the meadows have no 
sooner discharged their reviving waters, than they dip again 
into the stream to be re-filled, so every generation, void of 
the Spirit of Christ, must return to the divine source to be 



GOD'S SPIRIT CREATES THE CHURCH. 263 

again filled up. The primitive words which created the 
church have been preserved for us in the Gospels, the Acts, 
and the Epistles ; and the humble reading of these divine 
writings will create in every age the communion of saints. 
Gtd was the father of the Reformation, not Henry VIII. 
The visible world which then glittered with such brightness ; 
those princes and sports, those noblemen, and trials and 
laws, far from effecting a reform, were calculated to stifle it. 
But the light and the warmth came from heaven, and the 
new creation was completed. 

In the reign of Henry VIII. a great number of citizens, 
priests, and noblemen possessed that degree of cultivation 
which favours the action of the holy books. It was suffi- 
cient for this divine seed to be scattered on the well-prepared 
soil for the work of germination to be accomplished. 

A time not less important also was approaching that in 
which the action of the popedom was to come to an end. 
The hour had not yet struck. God was first creating within 
by his word a spiritual church, before he broke without by 
bis dispensations the bonds which had so long fastened 
England to the power of Rome. It was jjis good pleasure 
first to give truth and life, and then liberty. It has been 
said that if the pope had consented to a reform of abuses 
and doctrines, on condition of his keeping his position, the 
religious revolution would not have been satisfied at that 
price, and that after demanding ^reform, the next demand 
would have been for liberty. The only reproach that can 
be made to this assertion is, that it is superabundantly 
true. Liberty was an integral part of the Reformation, 
and one of the changes imperatively required was to with- 
draw religious authority from the pope, and restore it to the 
word of God. In the sixteenth century there was a great 
outpouring of the Christian life in France, Italy, and Spain ; 
it is attested by martyrs without number, and history shows 
that to transform these three great nations, all that the gos- 
pel wanted was liberty.* "If we had set to work two 
months later," said a grand inquisitor of Spain who had 

* Geddes's Martyrology Gonsalvi, Mart. Hisp. Llorente, Inquia. 
M'Crie, Ref. in Spain. 



264 ARRIVAL OF THE NEW TESTAMENTS. 

dyed himself in the blood of the saints, " it would have been 
too late : Spain would have been lost to the Roman church." 
We ma}' therefore believe that if Italy, France, and Spain 
had had some generous king to check the myrmidons of tUe 
pope, those three countries, carried along by the renovating 
power of the gospel, would have entered upon an era of 
liberty and faith. 

The struggles of England with the popeiom began shortly 
after the dissemination of the English New Testament by 
Tyndale. The epoch at which we are arrived accordingly 
brings in one view before our eyes both the Testament of 
Jesus Christ and the court of Rome. We can thus study 
the men (the reformers and the Romanists) and the works 
they produce, and arrive at a just valuation of the two great 
principles which dispute the possession of authority in the 
church. 

It was about the close of the year 1525 ; the English New 
Testament was crossing the sea ; five pious Hanseatic mer- 
chants had taken charge of the books. Captivated by the 
Holy Scriptures tjiey had taken them on board their ships, 
hidden them among their merchandise ; and then made sail 
from Antwerp for London. 

Thus those precious pages were approaching England, 
which were to become its light and the source of its great- 
ness. The merchants, whose zeal unhappily cost them 
dear, were not without alarm. Had not Cochlaeus caused 
orders to be sent to every port to prevent the entrance of the 
precious cargo they were bringing to England? They 
arrived and cast anchor; they lowered the boat to reach 
the shore ; what were they likely to meet there ? Ton- 
stall's agents, no doubt, and Wolsey's, and Henry's, ready 
to take away their New Testaments! They landed and 
soon again returned to the ship ; boats passed to and fro, 
and the vessel was unloaded. No enemy appeared ; and no 
one seemed to imagine that these ships contained so great a 
treasure. 

Just at the time this invaluable cargo was ascending the 
river, an invisible hand had dispersed the preventive guard. 



THOMAS GARRET. 265 

Tonstall, bishop of London, had been sent to Spain ; Wolsey 
was occupied in political combinations with Scotland, France, 
and the Empire ; Henry VIII., driven from his capital by 
an unhealthy winter, was passing the Christmas holidays at 
Eltham ; and even the courts of justice, alarmed by an ex- 
traordinary mortality, had suspended their sittings. God 
if we may so speak, had sent his angel to remove th( 
guards. 

Seeing nothing that could stop them, the five merchants, 
whose establishment was at the Steelyard in Thames Street, 
hastened to conceal their precious charge in their ware- 
houses. But who will receive them ? Who will undertake 
to distribute these Holy Scriptures in London, Oxford, Cam- 
bridge, and all England ? It is a little matter that they 
have crossed the sea. The principal instrument God was 
about to use for their dissemination was an humble servant 
of Christ. 

In Honey Lane, a narrow thoroughfare adjoining Cheap- 
side, stood the old church of All Hallows, of which Robert 
Forman was rector. His curate was a plain man, of lively 
imagination, delicate conscience, and timid disposition, but 
rendered bold by his faith, to which he was to become a mar- 
tyr. Thomas Garret, for that was his name, having be- 
lieved in the gospel, earnestly called his hearers to repent- 
ance ;* he urged upon them that works, however good they 
might be in appearance, were by no means capable of justi- 
fying the sinner, and that faith alone could save him.-{- He 
maintained that every man had the right to preach the word 
of God ;$ and called those bishops pharisees who persecuted 
Christian men. Garret's discourses, at once so quickening 
and so gentle, attracted great crowds ; and to many of his 
hearers, the street in which he preached was rightly named 
Honey Lane, for there they found the honey out of the rock. 
But Garret was about to commit a fault still more heinous 

* Earnestly laboured to call us to repentance. Becon, iii p. 1 1. 
t Quod opera nostra quautumvis bona in specie nihil cunducunt ad 
justificationem nee ad meritum, sed sola fides. Foxc, Acli, v. p. 428. 
$ Every man may preach the word of God. Ibid. 
Psalm Ixxxi. 16. 

12* If 



260 WHAT MEN FOUND IN THE SCRIPTURES. 

in the eyes of the priests than preaching faith. The Hanse 
merchants were seeking some sure place where they might 
store up the New Testaments and other books sent from 
Germany ; the curate offered his house, stealthily trans- 
ported the holy deposit thither, hid them in the most secret 
corners, and kept a faithful watch over this sacred library.* 
He did not confine himself to this. Night and day he 
studied the holy books, he held gospel Meetings, read the 
word and explained its doctrines to the citizens of London. 
At last, not satisfied with being at once student, librarian, 
and preacher, he became a trader, and sold the New Testa- 
ment to laymen, and even to priests and monks, so that the 
Holy Scriptures were dispersed over the whole realm.-}- This 
humble and timid priest was then performing alone the 
biblical work of England. 

And thus the word of God, presented by Erasmus to the 
learned in 1517, was given to the people by Tyndale in 1526. 
In the parsonages and in the convent cells, but particularly 
in shops and cottages, a crowd of persons were studying the 
New Testament. The clearness of the Holy Scriptures struck 
each reader. None of the systematic or aphoristic forms of 
the school were to be found there : it was the language of 
human life which they discovered in those divine writings : 
here a conversation, there a discourse ; here a narrative, and 
there a comparison ; here a command, and there an argu- 
ment ; here a parable and there a prayer. It was not all doc- 
trine or all history ; but these two elements mingled together 
made an admirable whole. Above all, the life of our Saviour, 
so divine and so human, had an inexpressible charm which 
captivated the simple. One work of Jesus Christ explained 
another, and the great facts of the redemption, birth, death, 
and resurrection of the Son of God, and the sending of the 
Holy Ghost, followed and completed each other. The au- 
thority of Christ's teaching, so strongly contrasting with the 
doubts of the schools, increased the clearness of his dis- 
courses to his readers ; for the more certain a truth is, the 

* Having the said books in his custody. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 428. 
t Dispersing abroad of the said books within this realm. Ibid. p. 428. 
\e also Strype, Cranmer's Mem. p. 81. 



WHAT MEN FOUND IN THE SCRIPTURES. 267 

more distinctly it strikes the mind. Academical explana- 
tions were not necessary to those noblemen, farmers, and 
citizens. It is to me, for me, and of me that this book 
speaks, said each, one. It is I whom all tbtse promises and 

teachings concern. This fall and this restoration they 

are mine. That old death and this new life I have 

passed through them. That/esA and that spirit I know 

them. This law and this grace, this faith, these works, this 

slavery, this glory, this Christ and this Belial all are 

familiar to me. It is my own history that I find in this book. 
Thus by the aid of the Holy Ghost each one had in his own 
experience a key to the mysteries of the Bible. To under- 
stand certain authors and certain philosophers, the intellec- 
tual life of the reader must be in harmony with theirs ; so 
must there be an intimate affinity with the holy books to 
penetrate their mysteries. " The man that has not the Spirit 
of God," said a reformer, " does not understand one jot or 
tittle of the Scripture."* Now that this condition was ful- 
filled, the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. 

Such at that period were the hermeneutics of England. 
Tyndale had set the example himself by explaining many of 
the words which might stop the reader. " The New Testa- 
ment I " we may suppose some fanner saying, as he took up 
the book; "what Testament is that ?"" Christ," replied 
Tyndale in his prologue, " commanded his disciples before 
his death to publish over all the world his last will, which is 
to give all his goods unto all that repent and believe.-J- He 
bequeaths them his righteousness to blot out their sins 
his salvation to overcome their condemnation ; and this is 
why that document is called the Testament of Jesus Christ." 

" The law and the gospel," said a citizen of London, in his 
shop; "what is that?" "They are two keys" answered 
Tyndale. " The law is the key which shuts up all men 
under condemnation, and the gospel is the key which opens 

Nullus homo unnm iota in Scripturis sacris videt, nisi qui spiritura 
Dei habet. Luther, De servo arbitrio, Witt. ii. p. 424. 

t Tyndale and Fryth's Works (ed. Russell), vol. ii. p. 491. The 
" Pathway unto the Holy Scripture" is the prologue to the quarto Testa- 
ment, with a few changes of little importance. 



268 KOPER, MOEE'S SON-IN-LAW. 

the door and lets them out. Or, if you like it, they are two 
salves. The law, sharp and biting, driveth out the disease 
and killeth it ; while the gospel, soothing and soft, softens 
the wound and brings life."* Every on^ understood and 
read, or rather devoured the inspired pages ; and the hearts 
of the elect (to use Tyndale's words), warmed by the love of 
Jesus Christ, began to melt like wax.f 

This transformation was observed to take place even in 
the most catholic families. Roper, More's son-in-law, hav- 
ing read the New Testament, received the truth. " I have 
no more need," said he, " of auricular confession, of vigils, 
or of the invocation of saints. The ears of God are always 
open to hear us. Faith alone is necessary to salvation. I 

believe and I am saved Nothing can deprive me of 

God's favour." J 

The amiable and zealous young man desired to do more. 
" Father," said he one day to Sir Thomas, " procure for me 
from the king, who isvery fond of you, a license to preach. 
God hath sent me to instruct the world." More was uneasy. 
Must this new doctrine, which he detests, spread even to his 
children ? He exerted all his authority to destroy the work 
begun in Roper's heart. " What," said he with a smile, " is 
it not sufficient that we that are your friends should know 
that you are a fool, but you would proclaim your folly to 
the world? Hold your tongue: I wiH debate with you no 
longer." The young man's imagination was struck, but his 
heart had not been changed. The discussions having 
ceased, the father's authority being restored, Roper became 
less fervent in his faith, and gradually he returned to popery, 
of which he was afterwards a zealous champion. 

The humble curate of All Hallows having sold the New 
Testament to persons living in London and its neighbour- 
hood, and to many pious men who would carry it to the 
farthest parts of England, formed the resolution to introduce 
it into the University of Oxford, that citadel of traditional 
Catholicism. It was there he had studied, and he felt to- 
wards that school the affection which a son bears to his 

' Tyndale and Fryth's Works (ed. Russell), vol. ii. p. 503. 
+ Ibid. p. 500. J More'a Life, p. 134. 



HENRY Vm. AND HIS VALET. 269 

mother: he set out with his books.* Terror occasionally 
seized him, for he knew that the word of God had many 
deadly enemies at Oxford ; but his inexhaustible zeal over- 
came his timidity. In concert with Dalaber, he stealthily 
offered the mysterious book for sale ; many Students bought 
it, and Garret carefully entered their names in his register. 
This was in January 1526 ; an incident disturbed this 
Christian activity. 

One morning when Edmund Moddis, one of Henry's 
valets-de-chambre, was in attendance on his master, the 
prince, who was much attached to him, spoke to him of the 
new books come from beyond the sea. " If your grace," 
said Moddis, " would promise to pardon me and certain in- 
dividuals, I would present you a wonderful book which is 
dedicated to your majesty ."{ " Who is the author?" " A 
lawyer of Gray's Inn named Simon Fish, at present on the 
continent." "AVhat is he doing there?" "About three 
years ago, Mr Row, a fellow-student of Gray's Inn, composed 
for a private theatre a drama against my lord the cardinal." 
The king smiled ; when his minister was attacked, his own 
yoke seemed lighter. " As no one was willing to represent 
the character employed to give the cardinal his lesson," con- 
tinued the valet, "Master Fish boldly accepted it. The 
piece produced a great effect ; and my lord being informed 
of this impertinence, sent the police one night to arrest Fish. 
The latter managed to escape, crossed the sea, joined 
one Tyndale, the author of some of the books so much 
talked of; and, carried away by his friend's example, he 
composed the book of which I was speaking to your grace." 
"What's the name of it?" " The Supplication of the 
Beggars" "Where did you see it?" "At two of your 
tradespeople's, George Elyot and George Robinson :f it 
your grace desires it, they shall bring it you." The king 
appointed the day and the hour. 

The book was written for the king, and everybody read 

* And brought with him Tyndale's first translation of the New Testa- 
aent in English. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 421. 

f His grace should see such a book as it was a marvel to hear of. 
lhid.ir. p. 658. J Ibid. 



270 SUPPLICATION OF THE BEGGARS. 

it but the king himself. At the appointed day, Moddis ap- 
peared with Elyot and Robinson, who were not entirely 
without fear, as they might be accused of proselytism even 
in the royal palace. The king received them in his private 
apartments.* "What do you want?" he said to them. 
" Sir," replied one of the merchants, " we are come about an 
extraordinary book that is addressed to you." " Can one of 
you read it to me?" " Yes, if it so please your grace," re- 
plied Elyot. " You may repeat the contents from memory," 

rejoined the king "but, no, read it. all; that will be 

better. I am ready." Elyot began, 

" THE SUPPLICATION OF THE BEGGARS." 
" To the king our sovereign lord, 

" Most lamentably complaineth of their woeful misery, 
unto your highness, your poor daily bedesmen, the wretched 
hideous monsters, on whom scarcely, for horror, any eye 
dare look ; the foul unhappy sort of lepers and other sore 
people, needy, impotent, blind, lame, and sick, that live only 
by alms; how that their number is daily sore increased, 
that all the alms of all the well-disposed people of this your 
realm are not half enough to sustain them, but that for very 
constraint they die for hunger. 

" And this most pestilent mischief is come upon your said 
poor bedesmen, by the reason that there hath, in the time of 
your noble predecessors, craftily crept into this your realm, 
another sort, not of impotent, but of strong, puissant, and 
counterfeit, holy and idle beggars and vagabonds, who by 
all the craft and wiliness of Satan are now increased not 
only into a great number, but also into a kingdom." 

Henry was very attentive. Elyot continued : 

" These are not the shepherds, but the ravenous wolves 
going in shepherds' clothing, devouring the flock : bishops, 
abbots, priors, deacons, archdeacons, suffragans, priests, 

monks, canons, friars, pardoners, and sumners The 

goodliest lordships, manors, lands, and territories are theirs. 
Besides this, they have the tenth part of all the corn, 
meadow, pasture, grass, wood, colts, calves, lambs, pigs, 

* Foxe, Acts. iv. p. 658 



EVILS CAUSED BY THE PRIESTS. 271 

geese, and chickens. Over and besides, the tenth part of 
every servant's wages, the tenth part of wool, milk, honey, 
wax, cheese, and butter. The poor wives must be account- 
able to them for every tenth egg, or else she getteth not her 

rights [t. e. absolution] at Easter Finally, what get 

they in a year? Sumtoa totalis: 430,333, 6s. 8d. ster- 
ling, whereof not four hundred years past they had not a 
penny 

" What subjects shall be able to help their prince, that be 
after this fashion yearly polled ? What good Christian people 
can be able to succour us poor lepers, blind, sore, and lame, 

that be thus yearly oppressed? The ancient Romans 

had never been able to have put all the whole world under 
their obeisance, if they had had at home such an idle sort of 
cormorants." . . . . 

No subject could have been found more likely to captivate 
the king's attention. " And what doth all this greedy sort 
of sturdy idle holy thieves with their yearly exactions that 
they take of the people ? Truly nothing, but translate all 
rule, power, lordship, authority, obedience, and dignity from 
your grace unto them. Nothing, but that all your subjects 

should fall into disobedience and rebellion Priests and 

doves make foul houses ; and if you will ruin a state, set up 

in it the pope with his monks and clergy Send these 

sturdy loobies abroad in the world to take them wives of 
their own, and to get their living with their labour in the 

sweat of their faces Then shall your commons increase in 

riches; then shall matrimony be much better kept; then 
shall not your sword, power, crown, dignity, and obedience 
of your people be translated from you." 

When Elyot had finished reading, the king was silent, 
sunk in thought. The true cause of the ruin of the state 
had been laid before him ; but Henry's mind was not ripe 
for these important truths. At last he said, with an uneasy 
manner : " If a man who desires to pull down an old wall, 
begins at the bottom, I fear the upper part may chance to 
fall on his head."* Thus then, in the king's eyes, Fish by 

* The upper part thereof might chance to fall upon his head. Foxe, 
Acts, iv. p. 658. 



272 SUPPLICATIONS OP THE SOULS IN PURGATORY. 

attacking the priests was disturbing the foundations of reli- 
gion and society. After this royal verdict, Henry rose, took 
the book, locked it up in his desk, and forbade the two mer- 
chants to reveal to any one the fact of their having read it 
to him. 

Shortly after the king had received this copy, on Wednes- 
day the 2d of February, the feast of Candlemas, a number of 
persons, including the king himself, were to take part in the 
procession, bearing wax tapers in their hands. During the 
night this famous invective was scattered about all the 
streets through which the procession had to pass. The 
cardinal ordered the pamphlet to be seized, and immediately 
waited upon the king. The latter put his hand under his 
robe, and with a smile took out the so much dreaded work, 
and then, as if satisfied with this proof of independence, he 
gave it up to the cardinal. 

While Wolsey replied to Fish by confiscation, Sir Thomas 
More with greater liberality, desiring that press should reply 
to press, published The Supplications of the Souls in Purga- 
tory. " Suppress," said they, " the pious stipends paid to 
the monks, and then Luther's gospel will come in, Tynd ale's 
Testament will be read, heresy will preach, fasts will be 
neglected, the saints will be blasphemed, God will be of- 
fended, virtue will be mocked of, vice will run riot, and 
England will be peopled with beggars and thieves."* The 
Souls in Purgatory then call the author of the Beggars' 
Supplication "a goose, an ass, a mad dog." Thus did 
superstition degrade More's noble genius. Notwithstanding 
the abuse of the souls in purgatory, the New Testament was 
daily read more and more in England. 

* Supplication of the Souls in Purgatory. More's Works. 



COUNCIL OF BISHOPS. 273 



CHAPTER II. 



The two Authorities Commencement of the Search Garret at Oxford 
His Flight His Return and Imprisonment Escapes and takes 
Refuge with Dalaber Garret and Dalaber at Prayer The Magnifi- 
cat Surprise among the Doctors dart's Advice Fraternal Love at 
Oxford Alarm of Dalaber His Arrest and Examination He is 
tortured Garret and twenty Fellows imprisoned The Cellar Con- 
demnation and Humiliation. 

WOLSEY did not stop with Fish's book. It was not that 
"miserable pamphlet" only that it was necessary to hunt 
down ; the New Testament in English had entered the king- 
dom by surprise; there was the danger. The gospellers, 
who presumed to emancipate man from the priests, and put 
him in absolute dependence on God, did precisely the reverse 
of what Rome demands.* The cardinal hastened to as- 
semble the bishops, and these (particularly Warham and. 
Tonstall, who had long enjoyed the jests launched against 
superstition) took the matter seriously when they were 
shown that the New Testament was circulating throughout 
England. These priests believed with "VVolsey, that the au- 
thority of the pope and of the clergy was a dogma to which 
all others were subordinate. They saw in the reform an up- 
rising of the human mind, a desire of thinking for themselves, 
of judging freely the doctrines and institutions, which the 
nations had hitherto received humbly from the hands of 
the priests. The new doctors justified their attempt at en- 
franchisement by substituting a new authority for the old. 
It was the New Testament that compromised the absolute 
power of Rome. It must be seized and destroyed, said the 
bishops. London, Oxford, and above all Cambridge, those 
three haunts of heresy, must be carefully searched. Defini- 
tive orders were issued on Saturday, 3d February .1520, and 
the work began immediately. 

* Actus merit or ius est in potestate hominis. Duns Scot us in Sen tent, 
lib. 1. diss. 17. 

1*2 



274 COMMENCEMENT OP THE SEAHCH GAKKK'f's FLIGHT. 

The first visit of the inquisitors was to Honey Lane, to the 
house of the curate of All Hallows. They did not find Gar- 
ret ; they sought after him at Monmouth's, and throughout 
the city, but he could not be met with.* " He is gone to 
Oxford to sell his detestable wares," the inquisitors were in- 
formed, and they set off after him immediately, determined 
to burn the evangelist and his books ; "so burning hot," says 
an historian, " was the charity of these holy fathers." f 

On Tuesday, the 6th of February, Garret was quietly sell- 
ing his books at Oxford, and carefully noting down his sales 
in his register, when two of his friends ran to him exclaim- 
ing, " Fly I or else you will be taken before the cardinal, and 

thence to the Tower." The poor curate was greatly 

agitated. " From whom did you learn that ? " " From 
Master Cole, the clerk of the assembly, who is deep in the 
cardinal's favour." Garret, who saw at once that the affair 
was serious, hastened to Anthony Dalaber, who held the 
stock of the Holy Scriptures at Oxford ; others followed him ; 
the news had spread rapidly, and those who had bought the 
book were seized with alarm, for they knew by the history 
of the Lollards what the Romish clergy could do. They took 
counsel together. The brethren, " for so did we not only 
call one another, but were in deed one to another," says 
Dalaber,^: decided that Garret should change his name ; that 
Dalaber should give him a letter for his brother, the rector 
of Stalbridge, in Dorsetshire, who was in want of a curate ; 
and that, once in this parish, he should seek the first oppor- 
tunity of crossing the sea. The rector was in truth a " mad 
papist" (it is Dalaber's expression), but that did not alter 
their resolution. They knew of no other resource. Anthony 
wrote to him hurriedly ; and. on the morning of the 7th of 
February, Garret left Oxford without being observed. 

Having provided for Garret's safety, Dalaber next thought 
of his own. He carefully concealed in a secret recess of his 
chamber, at St Alban's Hall, Tyndale's Testament, and the 
works of Luther, CEcolampadius, and others, on the word of 
God. Then, disgusted with the scholastic sophisms which 

* He was searched for through all London. Foxe, Acts, v. p. 421. 
t Ibid. J Ibid. 



HIS RETURN AND IMPRISONMENT. 275 



he heard in that college, he took with him the New Testa- 
ment and the Commentary on the Gospel of St Luke, by 
Lambert of Avignon, the second edition of which had just 
been published at Strasburg,* and went to Gloucester col- 
lege, where he intended to study the civil law, not caring to 
have anything more to do with the church. 

During this time, poor Garret was making his way into 
Dorsetshire. His conscience could not bear the idea of being, 
although for a short time only, the curate of a bigoted priest, 
of concealing his faith, his desires, and even his name. 
He felt more wretched, although at liberty, than he could 
have been in Wolsey's prisons. It is better, he said within 
himself, to confess Christ before the judgment-seat, than to 
seem to approve of the superstitious practices I detest. He 
went forward a little, then stopped and then resumed his 
course. There was a fierce struggle between his fears and 
his conscience. At length, after a day and a half spent in 
doubt, his conscience prevailed ; unable to endure any longer 
the anguish that he felt, he retraced his steps, returned to 
Oxford, which he entered on Friday evening, and lay down 
calmly in his bed. It 'was barely past midnight when Wol- 
sey's agents, who had received information of his return, 
arrived, and dragged him from his bed,-}- and delivered him 
up to Dr Cottisford, the commissary of the university. The 
latter locked him up in one of his rooms, while London and 
Higdon, dean of Frideswide, "two arch papists" (as the 
chronicler terms them), announced this important capture to 
the cardinal. They thought popery was saved, because a 
poor curate had been taken. 

Dalaber, engaged in preparing his new room at Gloucester 
college, had not perceived all this commotion.^ On Saturday, 
at noon, having finished his arrangements, he double-locked 
his door, and began to read the Gospel according to St Luke. 
All of a sudden he hears a knock. Dalaber made no reply ; 
it is no doubt the commissary's officers. A louder knock 
was given ; but he still remained silent. Immediately after, 
there was a third knock, as if the door would be beaten in. 

* In LUCID Evangclium Commentarii, nuac secundo recogniti et lo- 
cupletati. Argentorati, 1525. f Foxe, T. p. 422. J Ibid. 



276 GARKET TAKES REFUGE WITH DALABER. 



" Perhaps somebody wants me," thought Dalaber. He laid 
his book aside, opened the door, and to his great surprise 
saw Garret, who, with alarm in every feature, exclaimed, 
" I am a lost man ! They have caught me I" Dalaber, who 
thought his friend was with his brother at Stalbridge, could 
not conceal his astonishment, and at the same time he cast an 
uneasy glance on a stranger who accompanied Garret. He 
was one of the college servants who had led the fugitive 
curate to Dalaber's new room. As soon as this man had 
gone away, Garret told Anthony everything : " Observing 
that Dr Cottisford and his household had gone to prayers, I 

put back the bolt of the lock with my finger and here I 

am." "Alas! Master Garret," replied Dalaber, the im- 
prudence you committed in speaking to me before that young 
man has ruined us both !" At these words, Garret, who had 
resumed his fear of the priests, now that his conscience was 
satisfied, exclaimed with a voice interrupted by sighs and 
tears :* " For me.rcy's sake, help me ! Save me !" Without 
waiting for an answer, he threw off his frock and hood, 
begged Anthony to give him a sleeved coat, and thus dis- 
guised, he said : " I will escape into Wales, and from there, 
if possible, to Germany and Luther." 

Garret checked himself ; there was something to be done 
before he left. The two friends fell on their knees and prayed 
together; they called upon God to lead his servant to a 
secure retreat. That done, they embraced each other, their 
faces bathed with tears, and unable to utter a word.-}- 

Silent on the threshold of his door, Dalaber followed both 
with eyes and ears his friend's retreating footsteps. Having 
heard him reach the bottom of the stairs, he returned to his 
room, "lock ed the door, took out his New Testament, and 
placing it before him, read on his knees the tenth chapter of 
the Gospel of St Matthew, breathing many a heavy sigh : 

Ye shall be brought before governors and kings for my 

sake but fear them not ; the very hairs of your head are 

all numbered. This reading having revived his courage, 
Anthony, still on his knees, prayed fervently for the fugitive 

* With deep sighs and plenty of tears. Foxe, v. p. 422 
f That we all bewet both our faces. Ibid. p. 423. 



THE MAGNIFICAT. 277 

and for all his brethren : " God, by thy Holy Spirit endue 
with heavenly strength this tender and new-born little flock 
in Oxford.* Christ's heavy cross is about to be laid on the 
weak shoulders of thy poor sheep. Grant that they may- 
bear it with godly patience and unflinching zeal !" 

Rising from his knees, Dalaber put away his book, folder 
up Garret's hood and frock, placed them among his o\vn 
clothes, locked his room-door, and proceeded to the Cardinal': 
College, (now Christ Church,) to tell Clark and the other 
brethren what had happened.-}- They were in chapel : the 
evening service had begun ; the dean and canons, in full 
oostume, were chanting in the choir. Dalaber stopped at 
the door listening to the majestic sounds of the organ at 
which Taverner presided, and to the harmonious strains of 
the choristers. They were singing the Magnificat : My soul 

doth magnify the Lord lie hathholpen his servant Israel. 

It seemed to Dalaber that they were singing Garret's deliv- 
erance. But his voice could not join in their song of praise. 
" Alas !" he exclaimed, " all my singing and music is turned 
into sighing and musing." J 

As he listened, leaning against the entrance into the choir. 
Dr Cottisford, the university commissary, arrived with hasty 
step, " bareheaded, and as pale as ashes." He passed An- 
thony without noticing him, and going straight to the dean 
appeared to announce some important and unpleasant news. 
" I know well the cause of his sorrow," thought Dalaber as 
he watched every gesture. The commissary had scarcely 
finished his report when the dean arose, and both left the 
choir with undisguised confusion. They had only reached 
the middle of the ante-chapel when Dr London ran in, puf- 
fing and chafing and stamping, " like a hungry and gfcedy 
lion seeking his prey." All three stopped, questioned each 
other, and deplored their misfortune. Their rapid and eager 
movements indicated the liveliest emotion : London above 
all could not restrain himself. He attacked the commissary, 
and blamed him for his negligence, so that at last Cottisford. 
burst into tears. " Deeds, not tears," said the fanatical 

Foie.v. p. 423. + Ibid. J Ibid. Ibid. p. 424. 



278 RAGE OP THE THREE DOCTORS. 

London ; and forthwith they despatched officers and spies 
along every road. 

Anthony having left the chapel hurried to Clark's to tell 
him of the escape of his friend. " We are walking in the 
midst of wolves and tigers," replied Clark ; " prepare for per- 
secution. Prudentia serpentina et simplicitas columbina (the 
wisdom of serpents and the harmlessness of doves) must be 
our motto. God, give us the courage these evil times 
require." All in the little flock were delighted at Garret's 
deliverance. Sumner and Betts, who had come in, ran off 
to tell it to the other brethren in the college, * and Dalaber 
hastened to Corpus Christi. All these pious young men felt 
themselves to be soldiers in the same army, travellers in the 
same company, brothers in the same family. Fraternal love 
nowhere shone so brightly in the days of the Reformation 
as among the Christians of Great Britain. This is a feature 
worthy of notice. 

Fitzjames, Udal, and Diet were met together in the rooms 
of the latter, at Corpus Christi College, when Dalaber ar- 
rived. They ate their frugal meal, with downcast eyes and 
broken voices, conversing of Oxford, of England, and of the 
perils hanging over them.-]- Then rising from table they fell 
on their knees, called upon God for aid, and separated, Fitz- 
james taking Dalaber with him to St Alban's Hall. They 
were afraid that the servant of Gloucester College had be- 
trayed him. 

The disciples of the gospel at Oxford passed the night in 
great anxiety. Garret's flight, the rage of the priests, the 
dangers of the rising church, the roaring of a storm that 
filled the air and re-echoed through the long cloisters all 
impressed them with terror. On Sunday, the llth of Fe- 
bruary, Dalaber, who was stirring at five in the morning, 
set out for his room in Gloucester College. Finding the 
gates shut, he walked up and down beneath the walls in the 
mud, for it had rained all night. As he paced to and fro 
along the solitary street in the obscure dawn, a thousand 

To tell unto our other brethren ; (for there were divers else in tha< 
college.) Foxe, v. p. 424. 
t Considering onr state and peril nt hand. Ibid. 



DALABER'S ALAEM. . 279 

thoughts alarmed his mind. It was known, he said to him- 
self, that he had taken part in Garret's flight ; he would be 
arrested, and his friend's escape would be revenged on him.* 
He was weighed down by sorrow and alarm; he sighed 
heavily ; -j- he imagined he saw Wolsey's commissioners 
demanding the names of his accomplices, and pretending to 
draw up a proscription list at nis dictation ; he recollected 
that on more than one occasion cruel priests had extorted 
from the Lollards the names of their brethren, and terrified 
at the possibility of such a crime, he exclaimed ; " God, I 

swear to thee that I will accuse no man, I will tell 

nothing but what is perfectly well known." J 

At last, after an hour of anguish, he was able to enter the 
college. He hastened in, but when he tried to open his door, 
he found that the lock had been picked. The door gave way 
to a strong push, and what a sight met his eyes ! his bed- 
stead overturned, the blankets scattered on the floor, his 
clothes all confusion in his wardrobe, his study broken into 
and left open. He doubted not that Garret's dress had be- 
trayed him; and he was gazing at this sad spectacle in alarm, 
when a monk who occupied the adjoining rooms came and 
told him what had taken place : " The commissary and two 
proctors, armed with swords and bills, broke open your door 
in the middle of the night. They pierced your bed-straw 
through and through to make sure Garret was not hidden 
there ; they carefully searched every nook and corner, but 
were not able to discover any traces of the fugitive." At 

these words Dalaber breathed again but the monk had 

not ended. il I have orders," he added, " to send you to the 
prior." Anthony Dunstan, the prior, was a fanatical and 
avaricious monk ; and the confusion into which this mes- 
sage threw Dalaber was so great, that he went just as he 
was, all bespattered with mud, to the rooms of his su- 
perior. 

The prior, who was standing with his face towards the 

* My musing head being full of forecasting cares. Foxe, v. p. 424. 

f My sorrowful heart flowing with doleful sighs. Ibid. 

J I fully determined in my conscience before God that I would accuse 
no man. Ibid. 

With bills and swords thrusted througfi my bed-straw. Ibid. p. 425. 



280 DALABER INTERROGATED PUT TO THE TORTURE. 

door, looked at Dalaber from head to foot as he came in. 
" Where did you pass the night?" he asked. " At St Al- 
ban's Hall with Fitzjames." The prior with a gesture of in- 
credulity continued: "Was not Master Garret with you 
yesterday?" "Yes." "Where is he now?" "I do not 
know." During this examination, the prior had remarked a 
large double gilt silver ring on Anthony's finger, with the 
initials A. D.* "Show me that," said the prior. Dalaber 
gave him the ring, and the prior believing it to be of solid 
gold, put it on his own finger, adding with a cunning leer : 
" This ring is mine : it bears my name. A is for Anthony, 
and D for Dunstan." " Would to God," thought Dalaber, 
" that I were as well delivered from his company, as I am 
sure of being delivered of my ring." 

At this moment the chief beadle, with two or three of the 
commissary's men, entered and conducted Dalaber to the 
chapel of Lincoln College, where three ill-omened figures 
were standing beside the altar : they were Cottisford, Lon- 
don, and Higdon. " Where is Garret?" asked London; and 
pointing to his disordered dress, he continued : " Your shoes 
and garments covered with mud prove that you have been 
out all night with him. If you do not say where you have 
taken him, you will be sent to the Tower." " Yes," added 
Higdon, " to Little-ease [one of the most horrible dungeons 
in the prison], and you will be put to the torture, do you 
hear?" Then the three doctors spent two hours attempting 
to shake the young man by flattering promises and frightful 
threats ; but all was useless. The commissary then gave a 
sign, the officers stepped forward, and the judges ascended 
a narrow staircase leading to a large room situated above the 
commissary's chamber. Here Dalaber was deprived of his 
purse and girdle, and his legs were placed in the stocks, so 
that his feet were almost as high as his head.-j- When that 
was done, the three doctors devoutly went to mass. 

Poor Anthony, left alone in this frightful position, recol- 
lected the warning Clark had given him two years before. 

* Then had he spied on my fore-finger a big ring of silver, very well 
double-gilted. Foxe, v. p. 425. 
t Ibid. p. 426 



GAF.RET AND OTHERS IMPRISONED. 281 

He groaned heavily and cried to God:* "0 Father! that 
my suffering may be for thy glory, and for the consolation of 
my brethren ! Happen what may, I will never accuse one 
of them." After this noble protest, Anthony felt an increase 
of peace in his heart ; but a new sorrow was reserved for 
him. 

Garret, who had directed his course westwards, with the 
intention of going to Wales, had been caught at Hinksey, a 
short distance from Oxford. He was brought back, and 
thrown into the dungeon in which Dalaber had been placed 
after the torture. Their gloomy presentiments were to be 
more than fulfilled. 

In fact Wolscy was deeply irritated at seeing the college 
[Christ Church], which he had intended should be " the most 
glorious in the world," made the haunt of heresy, and the 
young men, whom he had so carefully chosen, become dis- 
tributors of the New Testament. By favouring literature, 
he had had in view the triumph of the clergy, and literature 
had on the contrary served to the triumph of the gospel. He 
issued his orders without delay, and the university was 
filled with terror. John Clark, John Fryth, Henry Sumner, 
William Betts, Richard Taverner, Richard Cox, Michael 
Drumm, Godfrey Harman, Thomas Lawney, Radley, and 
others besides of Cardinal's College ; Udal, Diet, and others 
of Corpus Christi ; Eden and several of his friends of Mag- 
dalene; Goodman, William Bayley, Robert Ferrar, John 
Salisbury of Gloucester, Barnard, and St Mary's Colleges ; 
were seized and thrown into prison. Wolsey had promised 
them glory; he gave them a dungeon, hoping in this man- 
ner to save the power of the priests,, and to repress that 
awakening of truth and liberty which was spreading from 
the continent to England. 

Under Cardinal's College there was a deep cellar sunk in 
the earth, in which the butler kept his salt fish. Into tin's 
hole these young men, the choice of England, were thrust. 
The dampness of this cave, the corrupted air they breathed, 
the horrible smell given out by the fish, seriously affected 
the prisoners, already weakened by study. Their hearts were 

Foxe, v. p. 427. 
VOL. V. 13 



282 CONDEMNATION AND HUMILIATION. 

bursting with groans, their faith was shaken, and the most 
mournful scenes followed each other in this foul dungeon. 
The wretched captives gazed on one another, wept, and 
prayed. This trial was destined to be a salutary one to 
them: "Alas!" said Fryth on a subsequent occasion, *' I 
see that besides the word of God, there is indeed a second 

purgatory but it is not that invented by Rome ; it is the 

cross of tribulation to which God has nailed us."* 

At last the prisoners were taken out one by one and 
brought before their judges ; two only were released. The 
first was Betts, afterwards chaplain to Anne Boleyn : they 
had not been able to find any prohibited books in his room, 
and he pleaded his cause with great talent. The other was 
Taveruer; he had hidden Clark's books under his school-room 
floor, where they had been discovered ; but his love for the 
arts saved him : " Pshaw ! he is only a musician," said the 
cardinal. 

All the rest were condemned. A great fire was kindled 
at the top of the market-place ;f a long procession was mar- 
shalled, and these unfortunate men were led out, each bear- 
ing a fagot. When they came near the fire, they were com- 
pelled to throw into it the heretical books that had been 
found in their rooms, after which they were taken back to 
their noisome prison. There seemed to be a barbarous plea- 
sure in treating these young and generous men so vilely. 
In other countries also, Rome was preparing to stifle in the 
flames the noblest geniuses of France, Spain, and Italy. 
Such was the reception letters and the gospel met with from 
popery in the sixteenth century. Every plant of God's must 
be beaten by the wind, even at the risk of its being uprooted ; 
if it receives only the gentle rays of the sun, there is reason 
to fear that it will dry up and wither before it produces fruit. 
Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it alideth 
alone. There was to arise one day a real church in England, 
for the persecution had begun. 

We have to contemplate still further trials. 

* God naileth us to the cross to heal our infirmities. Tyndale and 
Fryth's Works, iii. p. 91 (ed. Russell). 

t There was made a great fire upon the top of Carfax. Foxe, v. 
p. 428. 



CAMBRIDGE. 283 



CHAPTER III. 

Persecution at Cambridge Barnes arrested A grand Search Barnes 
at Wolsey's Palace Interrogated by the Cardinal Conversation be- 
tween Wolsey and Barnes Barnes threatened with the Stake His 
Fall and public Penance Richard Bayfield His Faith and Imprison- 
ment Visits Cambridge Joins Tyndale -The Confessors in the Cellar 
at Oxford Four of them die The rest liberated. 

CAMBRIDGE, which had produced Latimer, Bilney, Stafford, 
and Barnes, had at first appeared to occupy the front rank 
in the English reformation. Oxford by receiving the crown 
of persecution seemed now to have outstripped the sister 
university. And yet Cambridge was to have its share of 
suffering. The investigation had begun at Oxford on Mon- 
day the oth of February, and on the very same day two of 
Wolsey's creatures, Dr Capon, one of his chaplains, and 
Gibson, a sergeant-at-arms, notorious for his arrogance, left 
London for Cambridge. Submission, was the pass-word of 
popery. " Yes, submission," was responded from every part 
of Christendom by men of sincere piety and profound under- 
standing ; " submission to the legitimate authority against 
which Roman-catholicism has rebelled." According to their 
views the traditionalism and pelagianism of the Romish 
church had set up the supremacy of fallen reason in opposi- 
tion to the divine supremacy of the word and of grace. The 
external and apparent sacrifice of self which Roman-catholi- 
cism imposes, obedience to a confessor or to the pope, ar- 
bitrary penance, ascetic practices, and celibacy, only served 
to create, and so to strengthen and perpetuate, a delusion as 
to the egotistic preservation of a sinful personality. When 
the Reformation proclaimed liberty, so far as regarded or- 
dinances of human invention, it was with the view of .bring- 
ing man's heart and life into subjection to their real Sove- 
reign. The reign of God was commencing; that of the priests 
must needs come to an end. No man can serve two masters. 



284 SEARCH FOR THE HERETICAL BOOKS. 

Such were the important truths which gradually dawned 
upon the world, and which it became necessary to extinguish 
without delay. 

On the day after their arrival in Cambridge, on Tuesday 
the 6th of February, Capon and Gibson went to the convo- 
cation house, where several of the doctors -were talking to- 
gether. Their appearance caused some anxiety among the 
spectators, who looked upon the strangers with distrust. 
On a sudden Gibson moved forward, put his hand on Barnes, 
and arrested him in the presence of his friends.* The latter 
were frightened, and this was what the sergeant wanted. 
"What!" said they, "the prior of the Augustines, the re- 
storer of letters in Cambridge, arrested by a sergeant-!" This 
was not all. Wolsey's agents were to seize the books come 
from Germany, and their owners ; Bilney, Latimer, Stafford, 
Arthur, and their friends, were all to be imprisoned, for they 
possessed the New Testament. Thirty members of the uni- 
versity were pointed out as suspected ; and some miserable 
wretches, who had been bribed by the inquisitors, offered to 
show the place in every room where the prohibited books 
were hidden. But while the necessary preparations were 
making for this search, Bilney, Latimer, and their colleagues 
being warned in time, got the books removed ; they were 
taken away not only by the doors but by the windows, even 
by the roofs, and anxious inquiry was made for sure places 
in which they could be concealed. 

This work was hardly ended, when the vice-chancellor 01 
the university, the sergeant-at-arms, Wolsey's chaplain, the 
proctors, and the informers began their rounds. They opened 
the first room, entered, searched, and found nothing. They 
passed on to the second, there was nothing. The sergeant 
was astonished, and grew angry. On reaching the third 
room, he ran directly to the place that had been pointed out, 
still there was nothing. The same thing occurred every- 
where ; never was inquisitor more mortified. He dared not 
lay hftnds on the persons of the evangelical doctors ; his or- 
ders bore that he was to seize the books and their owners. 

" Suddenly arrested Barnes openly ia the convocation house to make 
all others afraid. Foxc, v. p. 416. 



BARNES IN WOLSEY*S PALACE. 85 

13ut as no books were found, there could be no prisoners. 
Luckily there was one man (the prior of the Augustines) 
against whom there were particular charges. The sergeant 
promised to compensate himself at Barnes's expense for his 
useless labours. 

The next day Gibson and Capon set out for London with 
Barnes. During this mournful journey the prior, in great 
agitation, at one time determined to brave all England, and 
at another trembled like a leaf. At last their journey was 
ended ; the chaplain left his prisoner at Parnell's house, 
close by the stocks.* Three students (Coverdale, Goodwin, 
and Field) had followed their master to cheer him with their 
tender affection. 

On Thursday (8th February) the sergeant conducted 
Barnes to the cardinal's palace at Westminster ; the wretched 
prior, whose enthusiasm had given way to dejection, waited 
all day before he could be admitted. What a day ! 
Will no one come to his assistance? Doctor Gardiner, 
Wolsey's secretary, and Fox, his steward, both old friends 
of Barnes, passed through the gallery in the evening, and 
went up to the prisoner, who begged them to procure 
him an audience with the cardinal. When night had come, 
these officers introduced the prior into the room where their 
master was sitting, and Barnes, as was customary, fell on his 
knees before him. " Is this the Doctor Barnes who is ac- 
cused of heresy?" asked Wolsey, in a haughty tone, of Fox 
and Gardiner. They replied in the affirmative. The car- 
dinal then turning to Barnes, who was still kneeling, said to 
him ironically, and not without reason : " What, master 
doctor, had you not sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach 
the people ; but my golden shoes, my poleaxes, my pillars, 
my golden cushions, my crosses, did so sore offend you, that 
you must make us a laughing-stock, ridiculum caput, 
amongst the people ? We were jollily that day laughed to 
scorn. Verily it was a sermon more fit to be preached on a 
stage than in a pulpit; for at the last you said I wore a 
pair of red gloves I should say bloody gloves (quoth you) 

Eh ! what think you, master doctor? " Barnes, wishing 

Foie, v. p. 416. 



286 INTERROGATED BY THE CARDINAL. ' 

to elude these embarrassing questions, answered vaguely : 
" I spoke nothing hut the truth out of the Scriptures, accord- 
ing to my conscience and according to the old doctors.'' 
He then presented to the cardinal a statement of his teach- 
ing. 

Wolsey received the papers with a smile : " Oh, ho!" said 
he as he counted the six sheets, " I perceive you intend to 
stand to your articles and to show your learning." " With 
the grace of God," said Barnes. Wolsey then began to read 
them, and stopped at the sixth article, which ran thus : " I 
will never believe that one man may, by the law of God, be 
bishop of two or three cities, yea, of a whole country, for it 
is contrary to St Paul, who saith : / have left thee behind, to 
set in every city a bishop." Barnes did not quote correctly, 
for the apostle says : " to ordain elders in every city."* 
Wolsey was displeased at this thesis : " Ah ! this touches 
me," he said : " Do you think it wrong (seeing the ordinance 
of the church) that one bishop should have so many cities 
underneath him?" " I know of no ordinance of the church," 
Barnes replied, " as concerning this thing, but Paul's saying 
only." 

Although this controversy interested the cardinal, the 
personal attack of which he had to complain touched him 
more keenly. " Good," said Wolsey ; and then with a con- 
descension hardly to be expected from so proud a man, he 
deigned almost to justify himself. " You charge me with 
displaying a royal pomp ; but do you not understand that, 
being called to represent his majesty, I must strive by these 
means to strike terror into the wicked?" "It is not your 
porno or your poleaxes," Barnes courageously answered, 

" that will save the king's person God will save him, 

who said : Per me rcges regnant." Barnes, instead of pro- 
fiting by the cardinal's kindness to present an humble justi- 
fication, as Dean Colet had formerly done to Henry VIII. 
dared preach him a second sermon to his face. Wolsey fel-t 
the colour mount to his cheeks. " Well, gentlemen," said 
he, turning to Fox and Gardiner, " you hear him ! Is this 
the wise and learned man of whom you spoke to me?" 

* K} Kraff-rnirr.s Kara, ir'o\it rjs<rCi/Tjst>f. Titus i. 5. 



BARNES FAIJLS. 287 

At these words both steward and secretary fell on their 
kr.ees, saying : " My lord, pardon him for mercy's sake." 
" Can you find ten or even six doctors of divinity willing to 
gwear that you are free from heresy?" asked Wolsey. 
Barnes offered twenty honest men, quite as learned as him- 
self, or even more so. " I must have doctors in divinity, 
men as old as yourself." " That is impossible," said the 
prior. " In that case you must be burnt," continued the 
cardinal. "Let him be taken to the Tower." Gardiner 
and Fox offering to become his sureties, "Wolsey permitted 
him to pass the night at Parnell's. 

" It is no time to think of sleeping," said Barnes as he 
entered the house, " we must write." Those harsh and 
terrible words, you must be burnt, resounded continually in 
his ears. He dictated all night to his three young friends a 
defence of his articles. 

The next day he was taken before the chapter, at which 
Clarke, bishop of Bath, Standish, and other d6ctors were 
present His judges laid before him a long statement, and 
said to him : " Promise to read this paper in public, without 
omitting or adding a single word." It was then read to him 
" would die first," was his reply. " Will you abjure or be 
burnt alive?" said his judges ; "take your choice." The 
alternative was dreadful. Poor Barnes, a prey to the 
deepest agony, shrank at the thought of the stake; then, 
suddenly his courage revived, and he exclaimed : " I would 
rather be burnt than abjure." Gardiner and Fox did all they 
could to persuade him. " Listen to reason," said they 
craftily : " your articles are true ; that is not the question. 
\Ve want to know whether by your death you will let 
error triumph, or whether you would rather remain to defend 
the truth, when better days may come." 

They entreated him ; they put forward the most plausible 
motives ; from time to time they uttered the terrible words 
burnt alive ! His blood froze in his veins ; he knew not 

what he said or did they placed a paper before him 

they put a pen in his hand his head was bewildered, he 
signed his name with a deep sigh. This unhappy man was 
destined at a later period to be a faithful martyr of Jesus 



288 PUBLIC PENANCE OF BARNES. 

Christ; but he had not yet learnt to "resist even unto 
blood." Barnes had fallen. 

On the following morning (Sunday, llth February) a 
solemn spectacle was preparing at St Paul's. Before day- 
break, all were astir in the prison of the poor prior ; and at 
eight o'clock, the knight-marshal with his tipstaves, and the 
warden of the Fleet prison with his billmen, conducted 
Barnes to St Paul's, along with four of the Hanse mer- 
chants who had first brought to London the New Testament 
of Jesus Christ in English. The fifth of these pious mer- 
chants held an immense taper in his hands. A persevering 
search had discovered that it was these men to whom Eng- 
land Avas indebted for the so much dreaded book ; their 
warehouses were surrounded and their persons arrested. 
On the top of St Paul's steps was a platform, and on the 
platform a throne, and on the throne the cardinal, dressed in 
scarlet like a " bloody antichrist," says the chronicler. On 
his head glittered the hat of which Barnes had spoken so 
ill ; around him were thirty-six bishops, abbots, priors, and 
all his doctors, dressed in damask and satin ; the vast cathe- 
dral was full. The bishop of Rochester having gone into a 
pulpit placed at the top of the steps, Barnes and the mer- 
chants, each bearing a fagot, were compelled to kneel and 
listen to a sermon intended to cure these poor creatures of 
that taste for insurrection against popery which was begin- 
ning to spread in every quarter. The sermon ended, the 
cardinal mounted his mule, took his station under a magni- 
ficent canopy, and rode off. After this Barnes and his five 
companions walked three times round a fire, lighted before 
the cross at the north gate of the cathedral. The dejected 
prior, with downcast head, dragged himself along, rather 
than walked. After the third turn, the prisoners threw 
their fagots into the flames; some "heretical" books also 
were flung in ; and the bishop of Rochester having given 
absolution to the six penitents, they were led back to 
prison to be kept there during the lord cardinal's pleasure. 
Barnes could not weep now ; the thought of his relapse, and 
of the effects so guilty an example might produce, had de- 
prived him of all moral energy. In the month of August, 



THE MONK OF BURY. 289 

be was led out of prison and confined in the Augustine con- 
vent. 

Barnes was not the only man at Cambridge upon whom 
the blow had fallen. Since the year 1520, a monk named 
Richard Bayfield had been an inmate of the abbey of 'Bury 
St Edmunds. His affability delighted every traveller. One 
day, when engaged as chamberlain in receiving Barnes, who 
had come to visit Dr Ruffam, his fellow-student at Lou- 
vain, two men entered the convent. They were pious per- 
sons, and of great consideration in London, where they 
carried on the occupation of brick making, and had risen to 
be wardens of their guild. Their names were Maxwell and 
Stacy, men " well grafted in the doctrine of Christ," says the 
historian, who had led many to the Saviour by their con- 
^ersation and exemplary life. Being accustomed to travel 
:nce a-year through the counties to visit their brethren, and 
extend a knowledge of the gospel, they used to lodge, ac- 
cording to the usages of the time, in the convents and 
abbeys. A conversation soon arose between Barnes, Stacy, 
and Maxwell, which struck the lay-brother. Barnes, who 
had observed his attention, gave him, as lie was leaving the 
convent, a New Testament in Latin, and the two brick- 
makers added a New Testament in English, with The 
Wicked Mammon, and The Obedience of a Christian Man. 
The lay-brother ran and hid the books in his cell, and for 
two years read them constantly. At last he was discovered, 
and reprimanded ; but he boldly confessed his faith. Upon 
this the monks threw him into prison, set him in the stocks, 
put a gag in his mouth, and cruelly whipped him, to pre- 
vent his speaking of grace.* The unhappy Bayfield re- 
mained nine months in this condition. 

When Barnes repeated his visit to Bury at a later period, 
he did not find the amiable chamberlain at the gates of the 
abbey. Upon inquiry he learnt his condition, and imme- 
diately took steps to procure his deliverance. Dr Ruffam 
came to his aid : " Give him to me," said Barnes, " I will 
take him to Cambridge." The prior of the Augustines was at 
that time held in high esteem ; his request was granted, in 
* Foxe, iv. p. 681. 
13* 



290 PERSECUTION AT OXFORD. 

the hope that he would lead back Bayfield to the doctrines 
of the church. But the very reverse took place : intercourse 
with the Cambridge brethren strengthened the young monk's 
faith. On a sudden his happiness vanished. Barnes, his 
friend and benefactor, was carried to London, and the monks 
of Bury St Edmunds, alarmed at the noise this affair created, 
summoned him to return to the abbey. But Bayfield, re- 
solving to submit to their yoke no longer went to London, 
and lay concealed at Maxwell and Stacy's. One day, having 
left his hiding-place, he was crossing Lombard street, when 
he met a priest named Pierson and two other religious of 
his order, with whom he entered into a conversation which 
greatly scandalized them. " You must depart forthwith," 
said Maxwell and Stacy to him on his return. Bayfield 
received a small sum of money from them, went on board a 
ship, and as soon as he reached the continent, hastened to 
find Tyndale. During this time scenes of a very different 
nature from those which had taken place at Cambridge, but 
not less heartrending, were passing at Oxford. 

The storm of persecution was raging there with more vio- 
lence than at Cambridge. Clark and the other confessors of 
the name of Christ were still confined in their under-ground 
prison. The air they breathed, the food they took (and they 
ate nothing but salt fish*), the burning thirst this created, 
the thoughts by which they were agitated, all together com- 
bined to crush these noble-hearted men. Their bodies 
wasted day by day; they wandered like spectres up and 
down their gloomy cellar. Those animated discussions in 
which the deep questions then convulsing Christendom were 
so eloquently debated were at an end ; they were like shadow 
meeting shadow. Their hollow eyes cast a vague and hag- 
gard glance on one another, and after gazing for a moment 
they passed on without speaking. Clark, Sumner, Bayley, 
and Goodman, consumed by fever, feebly crawled along, lean- 
ing against their dungeon walls. The first, who was also the 
eldest, could not walk without the support of one of his fel- 
low-prisoners. Soon he was quite unable to move, and lay 
stretched upon the damp floor. The brethren gathered round 
* Fox* T. p. 5. 



THE CONFESSORS IN THE CELLAR AT OXFORD. 291 

him, sought to discover in his features whether death was 
not about to cut short the days of him who had brought 
many of them to the knowledge of Christ. They repeated 
to him slowly the words of Scripture, and then knelt down 
by his side and uttered a fervent prayer. 

Clark, feeling his end draw near, asked for the commun- 
ion. The jailers conveyed his request to their master ; the 
noise of the bolts was soon heard, and a turnkey, stepping 
into the midst of the disconsolate band, pronounced a cruel 
no .' * On hearing this, Clark looked towards heaven, and 
exclaimed with a father of the church : Crede et manducasti, 
Believe and thou hast eaten. 7 He was lost in thought : he 
contemplated the crucified Son of God ; by faith he ate and 
drank the flesh and blood of Christ, and experienced in his 
inner life the strengthening action of the Redeemer. Men 
might refuse him the host, but Jesus had given him his 
body ; and from that hour he felt strengthened by a living 
union with the King of heaven. 

Not alone did Clark descend into the shadowy valley: 
Sumner, Bayley, and Goodman were sinking rapidly. Death, 
the gloomy inhabitant of this foul prison, had taken posses- 
sion of these four friends. J: Their brethren addressed fresh 
solicitations to the cardinal, at that time closely occupied 
in negotiations with France, Rome, and Venice. He found 
means, however, to give a moment to the Oxford martyrs ; 
and just as these Christians were praying over their four 
dying companions, the commissioner came and informed 
them, that " his lordship, of his great goodness, permitted 
the sick persons to be removed to their own chambers." 
Litters were brought, on which the dying men were placed 
and carried to their rooms ; j| the doors were closed again 
upon those whose lives this frightful dungeon had not yet 
attacked. 

It was the middle of August. The wretched men who 

* Not be suffered to receive the communion, being in prison. Foxo, 
v. p. 428. 

t Ibid. Habe fidem et tecum est quern non vides, says Augustine in 
another place. See Senn. 235, 272. Tract. 26, Evan. Joh. 

J Taking their death in the same prison. Foxe, v. p. 5. 

State Papers, i. p. 169. || Foxe, v. p. 6. 



292 DEATH OF FOUR PRISONERS THE OTHERS SET AT LIBERTY. 

had passed six months in the cellar were transported in vain 
to their chambers and their beds ; several members of the 
university ineffectually tried by their cares and their tender 
charity to recall them to life. It was too late. The severi- 
ties of popery had killed these noble witnesses. The ap- 
proach of death soon betrayed itself ; their blood grew cold, 
their limbs stiff, and their bedimmed eyes sought only Jesus 
Christ, their everlasting hope. Clark, Sumner, and Bayley 
died in the same week. Goodman followed close upon 
them.* 

This unexpected catastrophe softened Wolsey. He was 
cruel only as far as his interest and the safety of the church 
required. He feared that the death of so many young 
men would raise public opinion against him, or that these 
catastrophes would damage his college ; perhaps even some 
sentiment of humanity may have touched his heart. " Set 
the rest at liberty," he wrote to his agents, " but upon con- 
dition that they do not go above ten miles from Oxford." 
The university beheld these young men issue from their 
living tomb pale, wasted, weak, and with faltering steps. 
At that time they were not men of mark ; it was their youth 
that touched the spectators' hearts ; but in after-years they 
all occupied an important place in the church. They were 
Cox, who became bishop of Ely, and tutor to Edward the 
Prince Royal ; Drumm, who under Cranmer became one of 
the six preachers at Canterbury ; Udal, afterwards master 
of Westminster and Eton schools ; Salisbury, dean of Nor- 
wich, and then bishop of Sodor and Man, who in all his 
wealth and greatness often recalled his frightful prison at 
Oxford as a title to glory ; Ferrar, afterwards Cranmer's 
chaplain, bishop of St David's, and a martyr even unto 
death, after an interval of thirty years ; Fryth, Tyndale's 
friend, to whom this deliverance proved only a delay ; and 
several others. When they came forth from their terrible 
dungeon, their friends ran up to them, supported their fal- 
tering steps, and embraced them amidst floods of tears. 
Fryth quitted the university not long after and went to 

* Foxe, T. p. 5. 



LUTHER'S LETTER TO THE KING HENRY'S WRATH. 293 

Flanders.* Thus was the tempest stayed which had so 
fearfully ravaged Oxford. But the calm was of no long 
duration ; an unexpected circumstance became perilous to 
the cause of the Reformation. 



CHAPTER IV. 



Luther's Letter to the King Henry's Anger His Reply Luther's Re- 
solution Persecutions Barnea escapes Proclamations against the 
New Testament W. Roy to Caiaphas Third Edition of the New 
Testament The Triumph of Law and Liberty Hackett attacks the 
Printer Hackett's Complaints A Seizure The Year 1526 in Eng- 
land. 

HENRY was still under the impression of the famous Suppli- 
cation of the Beggars, when Luther's interference increased 
his anger. The letter which, at the advice of Christiern, 
king of Denmark, this reformer had written to him in Sep- 
tember 1525, had miscarried. The Wittemberg doctor hear- 
ing nothing of it, had boldly printed it, and sent a copy to 
the king. " I am informed," said Luther, " that your Ma- 
jesty is beginning to favour the gospel, f and to be disgusted 
with the perverse race that fights against it in your noble 

kingdom It is true that, according to Scripture, the kings 

of the earth take counsel together against the Lord, and we 
cannot, 'consequently, expect to see them favourable to the 
truth. How fervently do I wish that this miracle may be 
accomplished in the person of your Majesty." J 

We may imagine Henry's wrath as he read this letter. 
" What ! " said he, " does this apostate monk dare print a 
letter addressed to us, without having even sent it, or at the 



Tyndale and Fryth's Works, iii. p. 75 (edit. Russell), 
f Majestatem tuam ctepisse fayere Evangelio. Cochla-us. p. 136. 
t Huic miraculo in Majestate tua quam opto ex totis me'lullis. Ibid, 
p. 127. 



294 HENRY'S REPLY. 

least without knowing if we have ever received it? And 

as if that were not enough, he insinuates that we are among 

his partisans He wins over also one or two wretches, 

born in our kingdom, and engages them to translate the 
New Testament into English, adding thereto certain pre- 
faces and poisonous glosses." Thus spoke Henry. The idea 
that' his name should be associated with that of the Wittem- 
berg monk called all the blood into his face. He will reply 
right royally to such unblushing impudence. He summoned 
Wolsey forthwith. " Here ! " said he, pointing to a passage 
concerning the prelate, " here ! read what is said of you ! " 
And then he read aloud : " Illud monstrum et publicum odium 
Dei et hominum, cardinalis Eboracensis, pestis ilia regni tui. 
You see, my lord, you are a monster, an object of hatred 
both to God and man, the scourge of my kingdom!" The 
king had hitherto allowed the bishops to do as they pleased, 
and observed a sort of neutrality. He now determined to 
lay it aside and begin a crusade against the gospel of Jesus 
Christ, but he must first answer this impertinent letter. He 
consulted Sir Thomas More, shut himself in his closet, and 
dictated to his secretary a reply to the reformer : " You are 
ashamed of the book you have written against me," he said, 
" I would counsel you to be ashamed of all that you have 
written. They are full of disgusting errors and frantic 
heresies ; and are supported by the most audacious obsti- 
nacy. Your venomous pen mocks the church, insults the 
fathers, abuses the saints, despises the apostles, dishonours 
the holy virgin, and blasphemes God, by making him the 

author of evil And after all that, you claim to be an 

author whose like does not exist in the world." * 

" You offer to publish a book in my praise I thank you 1 

You will praise me most by abusing me ; you will dis- 
honour me beyond measure if you praise me. I say with 
Seneca : Tarn turpe tibi sit laudari a turpibus, quam si lau- 
deris ob turpia."-^ 

* Tantus autor haberi postulas, quantus nee hodic quisquam sit. Coch- 
Iseus, p. 127. 

t Let it be as disgraceful to you to be praised by the vile, as if you 
wore praised for vih deeds. 



LUTHER'S FIRMNESS. 295 

This letter, -written by the Icing of the English to the Icing 
of the heretics* was immediately circulated throughout Eng- 
land bound up with Luther's epistle. Henry, by publishing 
it, put his subjects on their guard against the unfaithful 
translations of the New Testament, which were besides 
about to be burnt everywhere. " The grapes seem beauti- 
ful," he said, " but beware how you wet your lips with the 
wine made from them, for the adversary hath mingled poison 
with it." 

Luther, agitated by this rude lesson, tried to excuse him- 
self. " I said to myself, There are twelve hours in the day. 
Who knows ? perhaps I may find one lucky hour to gain 
the king of England. I therefore laid my humble epistle 
at his feet ; but alas ! the swine have torn it. I am willing 

to be silent but as regards my doctrine, I cannot impose 

silence on it. It must cry aloud, it must bite. If any king 
imagines he can make me retract my faith, he is a dreamer. 
So long as one drop of blood remains in my body, I shall 
say NO. Emperors, kings, the devil, and even the whole 
universe, cannot frighten me when faith is concerned. I 
claim to be proud, very proud, exceedingly proud. If my 
doctrine had no other enemies than the king of England, 
Duke George, the pope and their allies, all these soap- 
bubbles one little prayer would long ago have worsted 

them all. Where are Pilate, Herod, and Caiaphas now ? 
Where are Nero, Domitian, and Maximilian ? Where are 

Arius, Pelagius, and Manes? Where are they? Where 

all our scribes and all our tyrants will soon be. But Christ ? 
Christ is the same always. 

" For a thousand years the Holy Scriptures have not 
shone in the world with so much brightness as now.-|- I wait 
in peace for my last hour ; I have done what I could. 
princes, my hands are clean from your blood ; it will fall on 
your own heads." 

Bowing before the supreme royalty of Jesus Christ, Luther 

* Rex Anglorum Regi haereticornm scribit. Strype, Mem. i. p. 91. 
The title of the pamphlet was Litterarvm quibus inmctus Pr. Henrietta 
VIII. etc. etc . respondit ad qnandam Epistolam M. Luihcri ad se missani. 

f Als in t&nsend Jahren nicht gewesen ist. Lnth. Opp. zix. p. 501 



296 PERSECUTIONS. 

spoke thus boldly to King Henry, who contested the rights of 
the word of God. 

A letter written against the reformer was not enough for 
the bishops. Profiting by the wound Luther had inflicted 
on Henry's self-esteem, they urged him to put down this 
revolt of the human understanding, which threatened (as they 
averred) both the popedom and the monarchy. They com- 
menced the persecution. Latimer was summoned before 
Wolsey, but his learning and presence of mind procured his 
dismissal. Bilney also, who had been ordered to London, 
received an injunction not to preach Luther's doctrines. " I 
will not preach Luther's doctrines, if there are any pecu- 
liar to him," he said ; " but I can and I must preach the 
doctrine of Jesus Christ, although Luther should preach it 
too." And finally Garret, led into the presence of his 'judges, 
was seized with terror, and fell before the cruel threats of the 
bishop. When restored to liberty, he fled from place to 
place,* endeavouring to hide his sorrow, and to escape from 
the despotism of the priests, awaiting the moment when he 
should give his life for Jesus Christ. 

The adversaries of the Reformation were not yet satisfied. 
The New Testament continued to circulate, and depots were 
formed in several convents. Barnes, a prisoner in the Au- 
gustine monastery in London, had regained his courage, and 
loved his Bible more and more. One day about the end of 
September, as three or four friends were reading in his 
chamber, two simple peasants, John Tyball and Thomas 
Hilles, natives of Bumpstead in Essex, came in. " How 
did you come to a knowledge of the truth ? " asked Barnes. 
They drew from their pockets some old volumes containing 
the Gospels, and a few of the Epistles in English. Barnes 
returned them with a smile. " They are nothing," he told 
them, " in comparison with the new edition of the New Tes- 
tament,"-}- a copy of which the two peasants bought for three 
shillings and twopence. " Hide it carefully," said Barnes. 
When this came to the ears of the clergy, Barnes was rc- 

* Foxe, v. p. 428. 

t Which books he did little regard, and made a twit of it. Tybali's 
Confession in Bible Annals, i. p. 184. 



BARNES ESCAPES ROY's SATIRE. 207 

moved to Northampton to be burnt at the stake ; but he 
managed to escape ; his friends reported that he was 
drowned ; and while strict search was making for him 
during a whole week along the seacoast, he secretly went 
on board a ship, and was carried to Germany. " The car- 
dinal will catch him even now," said the bishop of London, 
"whatever amount of money it iray cost him." When 
Barnes was told of this, he remarkec : " I am a poor simple 
wretch, not worth the tenth penny they will give for me. 

Besides, if they burn me, what will they gain by it? 

The sun and the moon, fire and water, the stars and the ele- 
ments yea, and also stones shall defend this cause against 
them, rather than the truth should perish" Faith had re- 
turned to Barnes's feeble heart. 

His escape added fuel to the wrath of the clergy. They 
proclaimed, throughout the length and breadth of England, 
that the Holy Scriptures contained an infectious poison,* 
and ordered a general search after the word of God. On the 
24th of October 1526, the bishop of London enjoined on his 
archdeacons to seize all translations of the New Testament 
in English with or without glosses ; and, a few days later, 
the archbishop of Canterbury issued a mandate against all 
the books which should contain " any particle of the New 
Testament."f The primate remembered that a spark was 
sufficient to kindle a large fire. 

On hearing of this order, William Roy, a sarcastic writer, 
published a violent satire, in which figured Judas (Standish), 
Pilate (Wolsey), and Caiaphas (Tonstall). The author 
exclaimed with energy : 

God, of his goodness, grudged not to die, 

Man to deliver from deadly damnation ; 
Whose will is, that we should know perfectly 

What he here hath done for our salvation. 

O cruel Caiaphas ! full of crafty conspiration, 
How durst thou give them false judgment 
To burn God's word the Holy Testament. 

* Libri pestiferum virus in re continentes, in promiscuam provincue 
Cant, multitudinem sunt disporsi Wilkius, Concilia, iii. p. 706. 
+ Vel aliqnam ejus particular. Ibid. 

J Satire of W. Roy, p-i.ii ted u the Harl. Misc. vol. is. p. 77, (ed. 180K). 

N 2 



298 THIRD EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

The efforts of Caiaphas and his colleagues were indeed 
useless : the priests were undertaking a work beyond their 
strength. If by some terrible revolution all social forms 
should be destroyed in the world, the living church of the 
elect, a divine institution in the midst of human institutions, 
would still exist by the power of God, like a rock in the 
midst of the tempest, and would transmit to future genera- 
tions the seeds of Christian life and civilisation. It is the 
same with the word, the creative principle of the church. 
It cannot perish here below. The priests of England had 
something to learn on this matter. 

While the agents of the clergy were carrying out the 
archiepiscopal mandate, and a merciless search was making 
everywhere for the New Testaments from Worms, a new 
edition was discovered, fresh from the press, of a smaller and 
more portable, and consequently more dangerous size. It 
was printed by Christopher Eyndhoven of Antwerp, who 
had consigned it to his correspondents in London. The 
annoyance of the priests was extreme, and Hackett, tile 
agent of Henry VIII. in the Low Countries, immediately 
received orders to get this man punished. " We cannot 
deliver judgment without inquiry into the matter," said the 
lords of Antwerp ; " we will therefore have the book trans- 
lated into Flemish." " God forbid," said Hackett in alarm, 
" What ! would you also on your side of the ocean translate 
this book into the language of the people ?" "Well then," 
said one of the judges, less conscientious than his colleagues, 
" let the king of England send us a copy of each of the books 
he has burnt, and we will burn them likewise." Hackett 
wrote to Wolsey for them, and as soon as they arrived the 
court met again. Eyndhoven's counsel called upon the pro- 
secutor to point out the heresies contained in the volume. 
The margrave (an officer of the imperial government) shrank 
from the task, and said to Hackett, " I give up the busi- 
ness !" The charge against Eyndhoven was dismissed. 

Thus did the Reformation awaken in Europe the slumber- 
ing spirit of law and liberty. By enfranchising thought 
from the yoke of popery, it prepared the way for other en- 
franchisements ; and by restoring the authority of the word 



THE YEAB 1526 IN ENGLAND. 299 

of God, it brought back the reign of the law among nations 
long the prey of turbulent passions anil arbitrary power. 
Then, as at all times, religious society forestalled civil so- 
ciety, and gave it those two great principles of order and 
liberty, which popery compromises or annuls. It was not 
in vain that the magistrates of a Flemish city, enlightened 
by the first dawn of the Reformation, set so noble an ex- 
ample; the English, who were very numerous in the Hanse 
Towns, thus learnt once more the value of that civil and 
religious liberty which is the time-honoured right of Eng- 
land, and of which they were in after-years to give other 
nations the so much needed lessons. 

" Well then," said Hackett, who was annoyed at their 
setting the law above his master's will, " I will go and buy 
all these books, and send them to the cardinal, that he may 
burn them." With these words he left the court. But his 
anger evaporating,* he set oft" for Malines to complain to the 
regent and her council of the Antwerp decision. " What!" 
said he, " you punish those who circulate false money, and 
you will not punish still more severely the man who coins 
it? in this case, he is the printer." " But that is just the 
point in dispute," they replied; "we are not sure the money 
is false" " How can it be otherwise," answered Henry's 
agent, "since the bishops of England have declared it so?" 
The imperial government, which was not very favourably 
disposed towards England, ratified Eyndhoven's acquittal, 
but permitted Hackett to burn all the copies of the New 
Testament he could seize. He hastened to profit by this 
concession, and began hunting after the Holy Scriptures, 
while the priests eagerly came to his assistance. In their 
view, as well as in that of their English colleagues, the su- 
preme decision in matter of faith rested not with the word 
of God but with the pope ; and the best means of securing 
this privilege to the pontiff was to reduce the Bible to ashes. 

Notwithstanding these trials, the year 1526 was a memo- 
rable one for England. The English New Testament had 
been circulated from the shores of the Channel to the bor- 
ders of Scotland, and the Reformation had begun in that 

* My choler was descended. Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 129. 



300 WOLSEY DESIRES TO BE REVENGED. 

island by the word of God. The revival of the sixteenth 
century was in no country less than in England the emana- 
tion of a royal mandate. But God, who had disseminated 
the Scriptures over Britain, in defiance of the rulers of the 
nation, was about to make use of their passions to remove 
the difficulties which opposed the final triumph of his plans. 
We here enter upon a new phasis in the history of the Re- 
formation ; and having studied the work of God in the faith 
of the little ones, we proceed to contemplate the work of 
man in the intrigues of the great ones of the earth. 



CHAPTER V. 

Wolsey desires to be revenged The Divorce suggested Henry's Senti- 
ments towards the Queen Wolsey's first Steps Longland's Proceed- 
ings Refusal of Margaret of Valois Objection of the Bishop of Tar- 
bes Henry's Uneasiness Catherine's Alarm Mission to Spain. 

WOLSEY, mortified at not being able to obtain the pontifical 
throne, to which he had so ardently aspired, and being espe- 
cially irritated by the ill-will of Charles V., meditated a 
plan which, entirely unsuspected by him, was to lead to the 
enfranchisement of England from the papal yoke. " They 
laugh at me, and thrust me into the second rank," he had 
exclaimed. " So be it ! I will create such a confusion in 

the world as has not been seen for ages I will do it, even 

should England be swallowed up in the tempest!"* De- 
sirous of exciting imperishable hatred between Henry VIII. 
and Charles V., he had undertaken to break the marriage 
which Henry VII. and Ferdinand the Catholic had planned 
to unite for ever their families and their crowns. His 
hatred of Charles was not his only motive. Catherine had 
reproached him for his dissolute Hfe,f and he had sworn to 
be revenged. There can be no doubt about Wolsey's share 

* Sandoval, i. p. 358. Rauke, Deutsche Gesch. iii. p. 17 
f Malos oderat mores. Polyd. Virg. p. 685. 



THE DIVORCE SUGGESTED. SOi 

in the matter. " The first terms of the divorce were put 
forward by me," he told the French ambassador. " I did 
it," he added, " to cause a lasting separation between the 
houses of England and Burgundy."* The best informed 
writers of the sixteenth century, men of the most opposite 
parties, Pole, Polydore Virgil, Tyndale, Meteren, Pallavicini, 
Sanders, and Roper, More's son-in-law, all agree in point- 
ing to Wolsey as the instigator of that divorce, which has 
become so famous.-j- lie desired to go still farther, and 
after inducing the king to put away his queen, he hoped to 
prevail on the pope to depose the emperor.^ It was not his 
passion for Anne Boleyn, as so many of the Romish fabu- 
lists have repeated, but the passion of a cardinal for the 
triple crown which gave the signal of England's emancipa- 
tion. Offended pride is one of the most active principles of 
human nature. 

"Wolsey's design was a strange one, and difficult of execu- 
tion, but not impossible. Henry was living apparently on 
the best terms with Catherine ; on more than one occasion 
Erasmus had spoken of the royal family of England as the 
pattern of the domestic virtues. But the most ardent of 
Henry's desires was not satisfied ; he had no son ; those 
whom the queen had borne him had died in their infancy, 
and Mary alone survived. The deaths of these little chil- 
dren, at all times so heartrending, were particularly so in 
the palace of Greenwich. It appeared to Catherine that 
the shade of the last Plantagenet, immolated on her mar- 
riage-altar, came forth to seize one after another the heirs 
she gave to the throne of England, and to carry them away 
to his tomb. The queen shed tears almost unceasingly, and 
implored the divine mercy, while the king cursed his un- 

* Le Grand, Hist, du divorce, Preuves, p. 186. 

t Instigator et auctor concilii existimabatur (Pole, Apology). He 
was furious mad, and imagined this divorcement between the king and 
the queen (Tyndale's Works, i. p. 465). See also Sanderus, 7 and 9 ; 
Polyd. Virg. p. 685 ; Meteren, Hist, of the Low Countries, p 20 ; Palla- 
vicini, Cone. Trident, i. p. 203, etc. A contrary assertion of Wolsey's 
hao been adduced against these authorities in the Pamphleteer, No. 4'2, 
p. 336 ; but a slight acquaintance with his history soon teaches us that 
veracity was the least of his virtues. 

Le Grand, Hist, du divorce, Preuves, p. 65, 69. 



302 HENRY'S SENTIMENTS TOWARDS THE QUEEN. 

happy fate. The people seemed to share in the royal sor- 
row ; and men of learning and piety (Lon gland was among 
their number)* declared against the validity of the marriage. 
They said that " the papal dispensations had no force when 
in opposition to the law of God." Yet hitherto Henry had 
rejected every idea of a divorce.-j- 

The times had changed since 1509. The king had loved 
Catherine ; her reserve, mildness, and dignity, had charmed 
him. Greedy of pleasure and applause, he was delighted to 
see his wife content to be the quiet witness of his joys and 
of his triumphs. But gradually the queen had grown older, 
her Spanish gravity had increased, her devout practices were 
multiplied, and her infirmities, become more frequent, had left 
the king no hope of having a son. From that hour, even while 
continuing to praise her virtues, Henry grew cold towards 
her person, and his love -by degrees changed into repug- 
nance. And then he thought that the death of his children 
might be a sign of God's anger. This idea had taken hold 
of him, and induced him to occupy apartments separate from 
the queen's.:}: 

Wolsey judged the moment favourable for beginning the 
attack. It was in the latter months of 1526, when calling 
Longland, the king's confessor, to him, and concealing his 
principal motive, he said : " You know his majesty's anguish. 
The stability of his crown and his everlasting salvation 
seem to be compromised alike. To whom can I unbosom 
myself, if not to you, who must know the inmost secrets of 
his soul?" The two bishops resolved to awaken Henry to 
the perils incurred by his union with Catherine ; but Long- 
land insisted that Wolsey should take the first steps. 

The cardinal waited upon the king, and reminded him of 
his scruples before the betrothal ; he exaggerated those en- 
tertained by the nation, and speaking with unusual warmth, 



* Jampridem conjugium regium, veluti infirmum. Polyd. Virg p. G85. 

f- That matrimony which the king at first seemed not disposed to an- 
nul. Strype, i. p. 135. 

J Burnet, vol. i. p. 20 (London, 1841). Letter from Grynseus to Bucer. 
Strype, i. p. 135. 

Quamprimum regi patefaciendum. Polyd. Virg. p. 685. 



WOLSEY'S FIRST STEPS PROPOSES MARGARET. 303 

he entreated the king to remain no longer in such danger :* 
" The holiness of your life and the legitimacy of your succes- 
sion are at stake." " My good father," said Henry, " you 
would do well to consider the weight of the stone that you 
have undertaken to move.f The queen is a woman of such 
exemplary life that I have no motive for separating from 
her." 

The cardinal did not consider himself beaten ; three days 
later he appeared before the king accompanied by the bishop 
of Lincoln. " Most mighty prince," said the confessor, who 
felt bold enough to speak after the cardinal, " you cannot, 
like Herod, have your brother's wife.J I exhort and con- 
jure you, as having the care of your soul, to submit the 
matter to competent judges." Henry consented, and per- 
haps not unwillingly. 

It was not enough for Wolsey to separate Henry from 
the emperor ; he must, for greater security, unite him to 
Francis I. The king of England shall repudiate the aunt of 
Charles V., and then marry the sister of the French king. 
Proud of the success he had obtained in the first part of his 
plan, Wolsey entered upon the second. " There is a prin- 
cess," he told the king, " whose birth, graces, and talents 
charm all Europe. Margaret of Valois, sister of King Fran- 
cis, is superior to all of her sex, and no one is worthier of 
your alliance." || Henry made answer that it was a serious 
matter, requiring deliberate examination. Wolsey, how- 
ever, placed in the king's hands a portrait of Margaret, and 
it has been imagined that he even privily caused her senti- 
ments to be sounded. Be that as it may, the sister of 
Francis I. having learnt that she was pointed at as the fu- 
ture queen of England, rebelled at the idea of taking from an 
innocent woman a crown she had Avorn so nobly. " The 

* Vehcmenter oral ne se patiatur in tanto versari discrimine. Polyd. 
Virg. p. 685. 

t Bone pater, Tide beno qualo saxum suo loco jacens movero coneris. 
Ibid. 

Like another Herodes. More 'a Life, p. 129. 

Ipsecuide salute animae tuae cura est,hortor,rogo, persuadeo, Folyd. 
Virg. p. 686. 

y Mulier prater cseteras digna matrimonio tuo. 



304 COMMISSION OF INQUIRY. 

French king's sister knows too much of Christ to consent 
unto such wickedness," said Tyndale.* Margaret of Valois 
replied : " Let me hear no more of a marriage that can be 
effected only at the expense of Catherine of Aragon's happi- 
ness and life."f The woman who was destined in future 
years to fill the throne of England was then residing at Mar- 
garet's court. Shortly after this, on the 24th of January 
1527, the sister of Francis I. married Henry d'Albret, king 
of Navarre. 

Henry VIIL, desirous of information with regard to his 
favourite's suggestion, commissioned Fox, his almoner, Pace, 
dean of St Paul's, and Wakefield, professor of Hebrew at 
Oxford, to study the passages of Leviticus and Deutero- 
nomy which related to marriage with a brother's wife. 
Wakefield, who had no wish to commit himself, asked whe- 
ther Henry was for or against the divorce.:j: Pace replied to 
this servile hebraist that the king wanted nothing but the 
truth. 

But who would take the first public step in an undertak- 
ing so hazardous ? Every one shrank back ; the terrible 
emperor alarmed them all. It was a French bishop that 
hazarded the step ; bishops meet us at every turn in this 
affair of the divorce, with which bishops have so violently re- 
proached the Reformation. Henry, desirous of excusing Wol- 
* sey, pretended afterwards that the objections of the French 
prelate had preceded those of Longland and the cardinal. 
In February 1527, Francis I. had sent an embassy to 
London, at the head of which was Gabriel de Grammont, 
bishop of Tarbes, with the intention to procure the hand of 
Mary of England. Henry's ministers having inquired whe- 
ther the engagement of Francis with the queen-dowager of 
Portugal did not oppose the commission with which the 
French bishop was charged, the latter answered : " I will 
ask you in turn what has been done to remove the im- 
pediments which opposed the marriage of which the Princess 

* Works (ed. Russell), i. p. 464. 

f- Princeps ilia, mulier optima, noluerit quicqnam audire de nuptiis, 
quae nuptiso non possunt conjungi sine miserabili Catharinse casu atquo 
adeo interitu. Polyd. Virg. p. 687. 

t Utrum staret ad te an contra te 1 Le Grand, Preuves, p. 2. 



HENRY'S UNEASINESS. 305 

Mary is issue."* They laid before the ambassador the dis- 
pensation of Julius II., which he returned, saying, that the 
bull was not sufficient, seeing that such a marriage was for- 
bidden jure divino ;f and he added : " Have you English a 
different gospel from ours?"| 

The king, when he heard these words (as he informs us 
himself), was filled with fear and horror. Three of the most 
respected bishops of Christendom united to accuse him of 
incest ! He began to speak of it to certain individuals : 
" The scruples of my conscience have been terribly in- 
creased (he said) since the bishop spoke of this matter be- 
fore my council in exceedingly plain words." || There is no 
reason to believe that these terrible troubles of which the 
king speaks were a mere invention on his part. A disputed 
succession might again plunge England into civil war. 
Even if no pretenders should spring up, might they not see a 
rival house, a French prince for instance, wedded to Henry's 
daughter, reigning over England ? .The king, in his anxiety, 
had recourse to his favourite author, Thomas Aquinas, and 
this angel of the schools declared his marriage unlawful. 
Henry next opened the Bible, and found this threat against 
the man who took his brother's wife : " He shall be child- 
less ! " The denunciation increased his trouble, for he had 
no heir. In the midst of this darkness a new perspective 
opened before him. His conscience might be unbound ; his 
desire to have a younger wife might be gratified ; he might 
have a son ! The king resolved to lay the matter before 

* What had been here provided for taking away the impediment of 
that marriage. (State Papers, i. p. 199.) Le Grand, (i. p. 17,) dis- 
credits the objections of the bishop of Tarbes ; but this letter from Wol- 
sey to Henry VIII. establishes them incontrovertibly. And besides, Du 
Bellay, in a letter afterwards quoted by Le Grand himself, states the 
matter still more strongly than Wolsey. 

+ Wherewith the pope could not dispense, nisi ex urgentissima causa. 
Wolsey to Henry VIII., dated 8th July. State Papers, i. p. 199. 

Anglos, qui tuo impcrio subsunt, hoc idem evangelium colerc quod nos 
colimus. Sanders, 12. 

Quae oratio quanto metu ac horrore animum nostrum turbaverit. 
Henry's speech to the Lord Mayor and common council at his palace of 
Bridewell, 8th November 1528. Hal), p. 754 ; Wilkins, Concil. iii. p. 714. . 

|| Du Bellay's letter in I.e Grand. Prenves, p. 218. 

VOL. V. 14 



306 CATHERINE'S ALARM. 

a commission of lawyers, and this commission soon wrote 
volumes.* 

During all this time Catherine, suspecting no evil, was 
occupied in her devotions. Her heart, bruised by the death 
of her children and by the king's coldness, sought consola- 
tion in prayer both privately and in the royal chapel. She 
would rise at midnight and kneel down upon the cold 
stones, and never missed any of the canonical services. But 
one day (probably in May or June 1527) some officious per- 
son informed her of the rumours circulating in the city and 
at court. Bursting with anger and alarm, and all in tears, 
she hastened to the king, and addressed him with the bit- 
terest complaints.-! Henry was content to calm her by 
vague assurances ; but the unfeeling Wolsey, troubling him- 
self still less than his master about Catherine's emotion, 
called it, with a smile, " a short tragedy." 

The offended wife lost no time : it was necessary that the 
emperor should be informed promptly, surely, and accurately 
of this unprecedented insult. A letter would be insufficient, 
even were it not intercepted. Catherine therefore deter- 
mined to send her servant Francis Philip, a Spaniard, to her 
nephew ; and to conceal the object of his journey, they pro- 
ceeded, after the tragedy, to play a comedy in the Spanish 
style. " My mother is sick and desires to see me," said 
Philip. Catherine begged the king to refuse her servant's 
prayer; and Henry, divining the stratagem, resolved to 
employ trick against trick.J " Philip's request is very pro- 
per," he made answer; and Catherine, from regard to her 
husband, consented to his departure. Henry meantime had 
given orders that, " notwithstanding any safe-conduct, the 
said Philip should be arrested and detained at Calais, in 
such a manner, however, that no one should know whence 
the stoppage proceeded." 

It was to no purpose that the queen indulged in a cul- 

* So as the books excrescunt in magna Tolumina. Wolsey to Henry 
VIII. State Papers, i. p. 200. 

t The queen hath broken with your grace thereof. State Papers, i. 
p. 200. 

t The king's highness knowing great collusion and dissimulation be- 
tween them, doth also dissemble. Knight to Wolsev Tbid, p. 215. 



THE SECRET BETRAYED. 307 

pable dissimulation ; a poisoned arrow had pierced her 
heart, and her words, her manners, her complaints, her 
tears, the numerous messages she sent, now to one and now 
to another, betrayed the secret which the king wished still 
to conceal.* Her friends blamed her for this publicity ; men 
wondered what Charles would say when he heard of his 
aunt's distress; they feared that peace would be broken; 
but Catherine, whose heart was " rent in twain," was not to 
be moved by diplomatic considerations. Her sorrow did 
not check Henry ; with the two motives which made him 
eager for a divorce the scruples of his conscience and the 
desire of an heir was now combined a third still more 
forcible. A woman was about to play an important part in 
the destinies of England. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Anne Boleyn appointed Maid of Honour to Catherine Lord Percy be- 
comes attached to her Wolsey separates them Anne enters Mar- 
garet's Household Siege of Rome ; Cromwell Wolsey's Intercession 
for the Popedom He demands the Hand of Hence of France for 
Henry Failure Anne reappears at Court Repels the King's Ad- 
Tances Henry's Letter He resolves to accelerate the Divorce Two 
Motives which induce Anne to refuse the Crown Wolsey a Opposi- 
tion. 

ANNE BOLEYN, who had been placed by her father at the 
court of France, had returned to England with Sir Thomas, 
then ambassador at Paris, at the time that an English 
army made an incursion into Normandy (1522). It would 
appear that she was presented to the queen about this 
period, and appointed one of Catherine's maids of honour. 
The following year was a memorable one to her from her 
first sorrow. 

By her behaviour, manner, words, and messages sent to diverse, 
hath published, divulged, &c. State Papers, i. p. 200. 



308 ANNE BOLEYN AND LORD PERCY. 

Among the young noblemen in the cardinal's household 
was Lord Percy, eldest son of the Earl of Northumberland. 
While Wolsey was closeted with the king, Percy was 
accustomed to resort to the queen's apartments, where he 
passed the time among her ladies. He soon felt a sincere 
passion for Anne, and the young maid of honour, who had 
been cold to the addresses of the gentlemen at the court of 
Francis, replied to the affections of the heir of Northumber- 
land. The two young people already indulged in day- 
dreams of a quiet, elegant, and happy life in their noble 
castles of the north ; but such dreams were fated to be of 
short duration. 

Wolsey hated the Norfolks, and consequently the Bo- 
leyns. It was to counterbalance their influence that he had 
been first introduced at court. He became Angry, therefore, 
when he saw one of his household suing for the hand of the 
daughter, and niece of his enemies. Besides, certain parti- 
sans of the clergy accused Anne of being friendly to the 

Reformation.* It is generally believed that even at this 

period Wolsey had discovered Henry's eyes turned compla- 
cently on the young maid of honour, and that this induced 
him to thwart Percy's love ; but this seems improbable. Of 
all the women in England, Anne was the one whose influ- 
ence Wolsey would have had most cause to fear, and he 
really did fear it ; and he would have been but too happy 
to see her married to Percy. , It has been asserted that 
Henry prevailed on the cardinal to thwart the affection of 
the two young people ; but in that case did he confide to 
Wolsey the real motive of his opposition ? Did the latter 
entertain criminal intentions? Did he undertake to yield 
up to dishonour the daughter and niece of his political ad- 
versaries ? This would be horrible, but it is possible, and 
may even be deduced from Cavendish's narrative ; yet we 
will hope that it was not so. If it were, Anne's virtue suc- 
cessfully baffled the infamous plot. 

But be that as it may, one day when Percy was in at- 
tendance upon the cardinal, the latter rudely addressed 
him : " I marvel at your folly, that you should attempt to 
* Meteren's Hist, of the Low Countries, folio, 5>< . 



ANNE IN MARGARET'S HOUSEHOLD. 309 

contract yourself with that girl without your father's or the 
king's consent. I command you to break with her." Percy 
burst into tears, and besought the cardinal to plead his 
cause. " I charge you to resort no more into her company," 
was Wolsey's cold reply,* after which he rose up and left 
the room. Anne received an order at the same time to 
leave the court. Proud and bold, and ascribing her misfor- 
tune to Wolsey's hatred, she exclaimed as she quitted the 
palace, " I will be revenged for this insult." But she had 
scarcely taken up her abode in the gothic halls of Hever 
Castle, when news still more distressing overwhelmed her. 
Percy was married to Lady Mary Talbot. She wept long 
and bitterly, and vowed against the young nobleman who 
had deserted her a contempt equal to her hatred of the car- 
dinal. Anne was reserved for a more illustrious, but more 
unhappy fate. 

This event necessarily rendered her residence in this 
country far from attractive to Anne Boleyn. " She did not 
stay long in England," says Burnet, following Camden : 
" she served Queen Claude of France till her death, and 
after that she was taken into service by King Francis' 
sister." Anne Boleyn, lady-in-waiting to Margaret of Va- 
lois, was consoled at last. She indulged in gaieties with all 
the vivacity of her age, and glittered among the youngest 
and the fairest at all the court festivities. 

In Margaret's house she met the most enlightened men of 
the age, and her understanding and heart were developed 
simultaneously with the graces. She began to read, with- 
out thoroughly understanding it, the holy book in which 
her mistress (as Brantome informs us) found consolation 
and repose, and to direct a few light and- passing thoughts 
to that " mild Emanuel," to whom Margaret addressed such 
beautiful verses. 

At last Anne returned definitively to England. It has 
been asserted that the queen-regent, fearing that Henry 
after the balUe of Pavia would invade France, had sent 
Anne to London to dissuade him from it. But it was a 

* Cavendish's Wolaey, p. 123. Cavendish was present at this conver- 
sation. 



310 CAPTURE OF ROME CROMWELL. 

stronger voice than hers which stopped the king of England. 
" Remain quiet," wrote Charles V. to him ; " I have the 
stag in my net, and we have only to think of sharing the 
spoils." Margaret of Valois having married the king of 
Navarre at the end of January 1527, and quitted Paris and 
her brothers court, it is supposed that Sir Thomas Boleyn 
who was unwilling that his daughter should take up her 
abode in the Pyrenees, recalled her to England probably in 
the winter or spring of the same year. " There is not the 
least evidence that she came to it earlier," says a modern 
author.* She appeared once more at court, and the niece of 
the duke of Norfolk soon eclipsed her companions, " by her 
excellent gesture and behaviour," -J- as we learn from a con- 
temporary unfriendly to the Boleyns. All the court was 
struck by the regularity of her features, the expression of 
her eyes, the gentleness of her manners, and the majesty of 
her carriage. J " She was a beautiful creature," says an 
old historian, " well proportioned, courteous, amiable, very 
agreeable, and a skilful musician." 

While entertainments were following close upon each 
other at the court of Henry VIII., a strange rumour filled 
all England with surprise. It was reported that the im- 
perialist soldiers had taken Rome by assault, and that some 
Englishmen were among those who had mounted the breach. 
One Thomas Cromwell was specially named || the man 
who nearly twenty years before had obtained certain indul- 
gences from Julius II., by offering him some jars of English 
confectionary. This soldier carried with him the New Tes- 
tament of Erasmus, and he is said to have learnt it by 
heart during the campaign. Being gay, brave, and intelli- 
gent, he entertained, from reading the gospel and seeing 
Rome, a great aversion for the policy, superstitions, and dis- 
orders of the popedom. The day of the 7th May 1527 de- 
cided the tenor of his life. To destroy the papal power 

* Turner, Hist. Henry VIII. ii. p. 185. 
t Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, p. 120. 

J Memoirs of Sir Thomas Wyatt, in Cavendish's Life of Wolsey, p, 
424. 

Metercn's Hist, of the Low Countries, folio, 20. 
y Foxe, vol. v. p. 365. 



WOLSEY'S EMBASSY TO FRANCE. 311 

became his dominant idea. On returning to England he 
entered the cardinal's household. 

However, the captive pope and cardinals wrote letters 
" filled with tears and groans."* Full of zeal for the papacy, 
Wolsey ordered a public fast. "The emperor will never 
release the pope, unless he be compelled," he told the king. 
" Sir, God has made you defender of the faith ; save the 
church and its head ! " " My lord," answered the king with 
a smile, " I assure you that this war between the emperor 
and the pope is not for the faith, but for temporal posses- 
sions and dominions." 

But Wolsey would not be discouraged ; and, on the 3d of 
July, he passed through the streets of London, riding a 
richly caparisoned mule, and resting his feet on gilt stirrups, 
while twelve hundred gentlemen accompanied him on horse- 
back. He was going to entreat Francis to aid his master 
in saving Clement VII. He had found no difficulty in pre- 
vailing upon Henry ; Charles talked of carrying the pope to 
Spain, and of permanently establishing the -apostolic see in 
that country .-j- Now, how could they obtain the divorce 
from a Spanish pope? During the procession, Wolsey 
seemed oppressed with grief, and even shed tears ; J but he 
soon raised his head and exclaimed : " My heart is inflamed, 
and I wish that it may be said of the pope per secula sem- 
piterna, 

M Rediit Henrici octavi virtute serena." 

Desirous of forming a close union between France and 
England for the accomplishment of his designs, he had cast 
his eyes on the Princess Renee, daughter of Louis XII., and 
sister-in-law to Francis I., as the future wife of Henry 
VIII. Accordingly the treaty of alliance between the two 
crowns having been signed at Amiens on the 18th of August 
(1527), Francis, with his mother and the cardinal, pro- 
ceeded to Compiegne, and there Wolsey, styling Charles the 

* Plenas lacrymarum et miseriae. State Papers, vol. i. 
f- The see apostolic should perpetually remain in Spain. Ibid. i. p 
227. 
I saw the lord cardinal weep very tenderly. Cavendish, p. 151. 



312 HE DEMANDS KENEE FOR THE KING. 

most obstinate defender of Lutheranism,* promising " per- 
petual conjunction on the one hand [between France and 
England], and perpetual disjunction on the other" [between 
England and Germany],f demanded Renee's hand for King 
Henry. Staffileo, dean of Rota, affirmed that the pope had 
been able to permit the marriage between Henry and 
Catherine only by an error of the keys of St Peter.J This 
avowal, so remarkable on the part of the dean of one of the 
first jurisdictions of Rome, induced Francis' mother to listen 
favourably to the cardinal's demand. But whether this 
proposal was displeasing to Renee, who was destined on a 
future day to profess the pure faith of the Gospel with 
greater earnestness than Margaret of Valois, or whether 
Francis was not over-anxious for a union that would have 
given Henry rights over the duchy of Brittany, she was 
promised to the son of the Duke of Ferrara. It was a check 
to the cardinal ; but it was his ill fortune to receive one still 
more severe on his return to England. 

The daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, (who had been 
created Viscount Rochford in 1525,) was constantly at court, 
" where she flourished in great estimation and favour," says 
Cavendish, "having always a private indignation against 
the cardinal for breaking off the pre-contract made between 
Lord Percy and her," little suspecting that Henry had had 
any share in it. Her beauty, her graceful carriage, her 
black hair, oval face, and bright eyes, her sweet voice in 
singing, her skill and dignity in the dance, her desire to 
please, which was not entirely devoid tof coquetry, her 
sprightliness, the readiness of her repartees, and above all 
the amiability of her character, won every heart. She 
brought to Greenwich and to London the polished manners 
of the court of Francis I. Every day (it was reported) she 
invented a new style of dress, and set the fashion in Eng- 
land. But to all these qualities, she added modesty, and 

* Omnium maxime dolosus et haeresis Lutherianae fautor acerrimus. 
State Papers, i. p. 274. 

f Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves, i. p. 186. 

J Nisi clave errante. State Papers, i. p. 272. 

For all this while she knew nothing of the king's intended purpose, 
said one of his adversaries. Cavendish's Wolsey, p. 129. 



ANNE BOLEYN'S SUCCESS REJECTS THE KING. 313 

even imposed it on others by her example. The ladies of 
the court, who had hitherto adopted a different fashion (says 
her greatest enemy), covered the neck and bosom as she 
did;* and the malicious, unable to appreciate Anne's mo- 
tives, ascribed this modesty on the young lady's part to a 
desire to hide a secret deformity, f Numerous admirers 
once more crowded round Anne Boleyn, and among others, 
one of the most illustrious noblemen and poets of England, 
Sir Thomas Wyatt, a follower of Wickliffe. He, howeves, 
was not the man destined to replace the son of the Percies. 

Henry, absorbed in anxiety about his divorce from Ca- 
therine, had become low-spirited and melancholy. The 
laughter, songs, repartees, and beauty of Anne Boleyn 
struck and captivated him, and his eyes were soon fixed 
complacently on the young maid of honour. Catherine was 
more than forty years' old, and it was hardly to be expected 
that so susceptible a man as Henry would have made, ns 
Job says, a covenant with his eyes not to think upon a maid. 
Desirous of showing his admiration, he presented Anne, ac- 
cording to usage, with a costly jewel; she accepted and 
wore it, and continued to dance, laugh, and chatter as be- 
fore, without attaching particular importance to the royal 
present. Henry's attentions became more continuous ; and 
he took advantage of a moment when he found Anne alone 
to declare his sentiments. With mingled emotion and alarm, 
the young lady fell trembling at the king's feet, and ex- 
claimed, bursting into tears : " I think, most noble and wor- 
thy king, your majesty speaks these words in mirth to prove 

me I will rather lose my life than my virtue." J Henry 

gracefully replied, that he should at least continue to hope. 
But Anne, rising up, proudly made answer : " I understand 
not, most mighty king, how you should retain any such 

* Ad illius imitationem reliqure regiaa ancillrc colli ct pcctoris supe- 
riora, quse antea nuda gestabant, operire coeperunt. Sanders, p. 16. 

t See Sanders, ibid. It is useless to refute Sanders' stories. We re- 
fer our readers to Burnet's Hist, of the Reformation, to Lord Herbert's 
Life of Henry VIII., to Wyatt, and others. We need only read Sanders 
to estimate at their true value the foul calumnies, as these writers term 
them, of the man whom they style the Roman legendary. 

J Sloane MSS. No. 2495; Turner's Hist. En*, ii, p. 1.9fi. 

H* o 



314 ANNE QUITS THE COURT. 

hope ; your wife I cannot be, both in respect of mine own 
unworthiness, and also because you have a queen already. 
Your mistress I will not be." Anne kept her word. She 
continued to show the king, even after this interview, all 
the respect that was due to him ; but on several occasions 
she proudly, violently even, repelled his advances.* In this 
age of gallantry, we find her resisting for nearly six years all 
the seductions Henry scattered round her. Such an exam- 
ple is not often met with in the history of courts. The books 
she had read in Margaret's' palace gave her a secret strength. 
All looked upon her with respect ; and even the queen treated 
her with- politeness. Catherine showed, however, that she 
had remarked the king's preference. One day, as she was 
playing at cards with her maid of honour, while Henry was 
in the room, Anne frequently holding the king, she said: 
" My Lady Anne, you have good hap to stop ever at a 
king ; but you are not like others, you will have all or none." 
Anne blushed : from that moment Henry's attentions ac- 
quired more importance ; she resolved to withdraw from 
them, and quitted the court with Lady Rochford. 

The king, who was not accustomed to resistance, was ex- 
tremely grieved; and having learnt that Anne would not 
return to the court either with or without her mother, sent a 
courier to Hever with a message and a letter for her. If we 
recollect the manners of the age of Henry VIII., and how 
far the men, in their relations with the gentler sex, were 
strangers to that reserve which society now imposes upon 
them, we cannot but be struck by the king's respectful tone. 
He writes thus in French : 

" As the time seems to me very long since I heard from 
you or concerning your health, the great love I have for you 
has constrained me to send this bearer to be better informed 
both of your health and pleasure ; particularly, because 
since my last parting with you, I have been told that you 
have entirely changed the mind in which I left you, and 
that you neither mean to come to court with your mother 
nor any other way ; which report, if true, I cannot enough 
* Tanto vehemcntius preces regias ilia repulit. Sanders, p. 17. 



HENRT'3 LETTER TO ANNE. 315 

marvel at, being persuaded in my own mind that I have 
never committed any offence against you ; arid it seems 
hard, in return for the great love I bear you, to be kept at a 
distance from the person and presence of the woman in the 
world that I value the most. And if you love me with as 
much affection as I hope you do, I am sure the distance of 
our two persons would be equally irksome to you, though 
this does not belong so much to the mistress as to the ser- 
vant. 

" Consider well, my mistress, how greatly your absence 
afflicts me. I hope it is not your will that it should be so ; 
but if I heard for certain that you yourself desired it, I 
could but mourn my ill-fortune, and strive by degrees to 
abate of my great folly. 

" And so for lack of time I make an end of this rude let- 
ter, beseeching you to give the bearer credence in all he will 
tell you from me. Written by the hand of your entire ser 
vant, " H. R.."* 

X 

The word servant (serviteur) employed in this letter ex- 
plains the sense in which Henry used the word mistress. In 
the language of chivalry, the latter term expressed a person 
to whom the lover had surrendered his heart. 

It would seem that Anne's reply to this letter was the 
same she had made to the king from the very first; and 
Cardinal Pole mentions more than once her obstinate re- 
fusal of an adulterous love.f At last Henry understood 
Anne's virtue; but he was far from abating of his great 
folly, as he had promised. That tyrannical selfishness, which 
the prince often displayed in his life, was shown particularly 

* Pamphleteer, No. 42, p. 347. It is difficult to fix the order and 
chronology of Henry's letters to Anne Boleyn. This is the second in the 
Vatican Collection, but it appears to us to be of older date. It is con- 
sidered as written in May 1528 ; we are inclined to place it in the au- 
tumn of 1527. The originals of these letters, chiefly in old French, are 
still preserved in the Vatican, having been stolen from the royal cabinet 
and conveyed thither. 

f Concubina enim tna fieri pudica mulier nolebat, uxor volebat. Ilia 
cujus amore rex deperibat, pertinacissime negabat sui corporis potcsta- 
tem. Polus ad Regem, p. 176. Cardinal PC e is a far more trustworthy 
authority than Sanders. 



816 HENRY PROPOSES MARRIAGE. 

in his amours. Seeing that he could not attain his end by 
illegitimate means, he determined to break, as quickly as 
possible, the bonds which united him to the queen. Anne's 
virtue was the third cause of Henry's divorce. 

His resolution being once taken, it must needs be carried 
out. Henry having succeeded in bringing Anne back to 
court, procured a private interview with her, offered her his 
crown, and seizing her hand, took off one of her rings. But 
Anne, who would not be the king's mistress, refused also to 
be his wife. The glory of a crown could not dazzle her, said 
Wyatt, and two motives in particular counterbalanced all the 
prospects of greatness which were set before her eyes. The 
first was her respect for the queen : " How could I injure a 
princess of such great virtue ?" she exclaimed.* The second 
was the fear that a union with " one that was her lord and 
her king," would not give her that freedom of heart and that 
liberty which she would enjoy by marrying a man of the 
same rank with herself, f 

Yet the noblemen and ladies of Henry's court whispered 
to one another that Anne would certainly become queen of 
England. Some were tormented by jealousy; others, her 
friends, were delighted at the prospect of a rapid advance- 
ment. Wolsey's enemies in particular were charmed at the 
thought of ruining the favourite. It was at the very mo- 
ment when all these emotions were so variously agitating 
the court that the cardinal, returning from his embassy to 
Francis, re-appeared in London, where an unexpected blow 
struck him. 

Wolsey was expressing his grief to Henry at having failed 
in obtaining either Margaret or Eenee for him, when the 
king interrupted him : " Console yourself, I shall marry 
Anne Boleyn." The cardinal remained speechless for a 
moment. What would become of him, if the king placed 
the crown of England on the head of the daughter and niece 
of his greatest enemies? What would become of the 
church, if a second Anne of Bohemia should ascend the 

* Tho love she bare even to the queen whom she served, that was also 
a personage of great virtue. Wyatt, Mem. of A. B. p. 428. 
f Ibid. 



WOLSEY 8 OPPOSITION LETTER TO THE POPE. 317 

throne? Wolsey threw himself at the feet of his master, 
and entreated him to renounce so fatal a project.* It was 
then no doubt that he remained (as he afterwards said) an 
hour or two on his knees before the king in his privy cham- 
ber,-}- but without prevailing on Henry to give up his design. 
Wolsey, persuaded that if he continued openly to oppose 
Henry's will, he would for ever lose his confidence, dissem- 
bled his vexation, waiting an opportunity to get rid of this 
unfortunate rival by some intrigue. He began by writing to 
the pope, informing him that a young lady, brought up by 
the queen of Navarre, and consequently tainted by the Lu- 
theran heresy, had captivated the king's heart ;J and from 
that hour Anne Boleyn became the object of the hatred and 
calumnies of Rome. But at the same time, to conceal his 
intentions, Wolsey received Henry at a series of splendid 
entertainments, at which Anne outshone all the ladies of the 
court. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Bilney's Preaching His Arrest Arthur's Preaching and Imprisonment 
Bilney's Examination Contest between the Judge and the Prisoner 
Bilney's Weakness and Fall His Terrors Two Wants Arrival of 
the Fourth Edition of the New Testament Joy among the Believers. 

WHILE these passions were agitating Henry's palace, the 
most moving scenes, produced by Christian faith, were 
stirring the nation. Bilney, animated by that courage 
which God sometimes gives to the weakest men, seemed to 
have lost his natural timidity, and preached for a time with 
an energy quite apostolic. He taught that all men should 
first acknowledge their sins and condemn them, and then 
hunger and thirst after that righteousness which Jesus 

" Whose persuasion to the contrary, made to the king upon his knees. 
Cavendish, p. 204. t Ibid. p. 388. 

t Metcren, Hist, of tho Low Countries, folio, 20. 



318 BILNEY'S CHBISTIAN ACTIVITY. 

Christ gives.* To this testimony borne to the truth, he added 
his testimony against error. " These five hundred years," 
he added, " there hath been no good pope ; and in all the 
times past we can find but fifty : for they have neither preached 
nor lived well, nor conformably to their dignity ; wherefore, 
unto this day, they have borne the keys of simony."-}- 

As soon as he descended from the pulpit, this pious 
scholar, with his friend Arthur, visited the neighbouring 
towns and villages. " The Jews and Saracens would long 
ago have become believers," he once said at Wilsdon, " had 
it not been for the idolatry of Christian men in offering can- 
dles, wax, and money to stocks and stones." One day when 
he visited Ipswich, where there was a Franciscan convent, 
he exclaimed : " The cowl of St Francis wrapped round a 

dead body hath no power to take away sins Ecce agnus 

Dei qui tollit peccata mundi." (John i. 29.) The poor 
monks, who were little versed in Scripture had recourse to 
the Almanac to convict the Bible of error. " St Paul did 
rightly affirm," said Friar John Brusierd." that there is but 
one mediator of God and man, because as yet there was no 
saint canonized or put into the calendar." " Let us ask of 
the Father in the name of the Son," rejoined Bilney, " and 
he will give unto us." " You are always speaking of the 
Father and never of the saints" replied the friar ; " you are 
like a man who has been looking so long upon the sun, that 
he can see nothing else.":}: As he uttered these words the 
monk seemed bursting with anger. " If I did not know that 
the saints would take everlasting vengeance upon you, I 
would surely with these nails of mine be your death." 
Twice in fact did two monks pull him out of his pulpit. He 
was arrested and taken to London. 

Arthur, instead of fleeing, began to visit the flocks which 
his friend had converted. " Good people," said he, " if- 1 
should suffer persecution for the preaching of the gospel, 
there are seven thousand more that would preach it as I do 
now. Therefore, good people! good people!" (and he re- 

* Ut omnes priraum peccata sua agnoscant et damnent, deinde esuriant 
ct Bitiant justitiam illam. Foxe, iv. p. 634. 
+ Ibid. p. 627. J Ibid, p 629. Ibid. p. 630. 



BI1JSEY AND AKTUUK BEFORE THE BISHOPS. 319 

peated these words several times in a sorrowful voice,) 
" think not that if these tyrants and persecutors put a man 
to death, the preaching of the gospel therefore is to be for- 
saken. Every Christian man, yea every layman, is a priest. 
Let our adversaries preach by the authority of the cardinal ; 
others by the authority of the university ; others by the 
pope's ; we will preach by the authority of God. It is not 
the man who brings the word that saves the soul, but the 
word which the man brings. 1 Neither bishops nor popes 
have the right to forbid any man to preach the gospel ;* and 
if they kill him he is not a heretic but a martyr."-^ The 
priests were horrified at such doctrines. In their opinion, 
there was no God out of their church, no salvation out of 
their sacrifices. Arthur was thrown into the same prison as 
Bilney. 

On the 27th of November 1527, the cardinal and the arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, with a great number of bishops, 
divines, and lawyers, met in the chapter-house of West- 
minster, when Bilney and Arthur were brought before 
them. But the king's prime minister thought it beneath 
his dignity to occupy his time with miserable heretics. Wol- 
sey had hardly commenced the examination, when he rose, 
saying : " The affairs of the realm call me away ; all such 
as are found guilty you will compel them to abjure, and 
those who rebel you will deliver over to the secular power." 
After a few questions proposed by the bishop of London, the 
two accused men were led back to prison. 

Abjuration or death that was Wolsey's order. But the 
conduct of the trial was confided to Tonstall; Bilney con- 
ceived some hope.J " Is it possible," he said to himself, 
" that the bishop of London, the friend of Erasmus, will 

gratify the monks? I must tell him that it was the 

Greek Testament of his learned master that led me to the 
faith." Upon which the humble evangelist, having obtained 
paper and ink, set about writing to the bishop from his 
gloomy prison those admirable letters which have been trans- 
mitted to posterity. Tonstall, who was not a cruel man, 

Foxe, iv. p. 623. 

t Collyer's Church History, ii. p. 26. 

* In talem nnnc mo judicem incidissa gr&tulor. Foxo, ST. p. 68S. 



320 TONSTALL DESIRES TO SAVE BILNEY. 

was deeply moved, and then a strange struggle took place : 
a judge wishing to save the prisoner, the prisoner desiring 
to give up his life. Tonstall, by acquitting Bilney, had no 
desire to compromise himself. " Submit to the church," said 
the bishop, " for God speaks only through it." But Bilney, 
who knew that God speaks in the Scriptures, remained in- 
flexible. "Very well, then," said Tonstall, taking up the 
prisoner's eloquent letters, " in discharge of my conscience I 
shall lay these letters before 1 the court." He hoped, per- 
haps, that they would touch his colleagues, but he was 
deceived. He determined, therefore, to make a fresh attempt. 
On the 4th of December, Bilney was brought again before 
the court. " Abjure your errors," said Tonstall. Bilney 
refusing by a shake of the head, the bishop continued : " Re- 
tire into the next room and consider." Bilney withdrew, 
and returning shortly after with joy beaming in his eyes, 
Tonstall thought he had gained the victory. " You will 
return to the church, then?" said he The doctor an- 
swered calmly: " Fiat judicium in nomine Domini."* " Be 
quick," continued the bishop, " this is the last moment, and 
you will be condemned." " Hcec est dies quam fecit Do- 
minus," answered Bilney, " exultemus et Icetemur in ea I " 
(Ps. cxviii. 24.) Upon this Tonstall took off his cap, and 

said: " In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti 

Exsurgat Deus et dissipentur inimici ejus I " (Ps. Ixviii. 1.) 
Then making the sign of the cross on his forehead and on 
his breast, he gave judgment : " Thomas Bilney, I pronounce 
thee convicted of heresy." He was about to name the 

penalty a last hope restrained him; he stopped: "For 

the rest of the sentence we take deliberation until to-mor- 
row." Thus was the struggle prolonged between two men, 
one of whom desired to walk to the stake, the other to bar 
the way as it were with his own body. 

"Will you return to the unity of the church?" asked 
Tonstall the next day. " I hope I was never separated from 
the church," answered Bilney. " Go and consult with some 
of your friends," said the bishop, who was resolved to save 
his life ; " I will give you till one o'clock in the afternoon." 
Tn the afternoon Bilney made the same answer. "I will 
* Let judgment be done in the name.of tha Lotfi 



BILNEY'S STRUGGLE. 321 

give you two nights' respite to deliberate," said the bishop ; 
" on Saturday, at nine o'clock in the forenoon, the court will 
expect a plain definitive answer." Tonstall reckoned on the 
night with its dreams, its anguish, and its terrors, to bring 
about Bilney's recantation. 

This extraordinary struggle occupied many minds both in 
court and city. Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII. watched 
with interest the various phases of this tragic history. What 
will happen ? was the general question. Will he give way ? 
Shall we see him live or die? One day and two nights 
still remained ; everything was tried to shake the Cambridge 
doctor. His friends crowded to his prison ; he *was over- 
whelmed with arguments and examples ; but an inward 
struggle, far more terrible than those without, agitated the 
pious Bilney. " Whoever will save his soul shall lose it," 
Christ had said. That selfish love of his soul, which is 
found even in the advanced Christian, that self, which after 
his conversion had been not absorbed, but overruled by the 
Spirit of God, gradually recovered strength in his heart, in 
the presence of disgrace and death. His friends who wished 
to save him, not understanding that the fallen Bilney would 
be Bilney no longer, conjured him with tears to have pity on 
himself; and by these means his firmness was overcome. 
The bishop pressed him, and Bilney asked himself: " Can a 
young soldier like me know the rules of war better than 
an old soldier like Tonstall? Or can a poor silly sheep 
know his way to the fold better than the chief pastor 
of London ? " * His friends quitted him neither night 
nor, day, and, entangled by their fatal affection, he be- 
lieved at last that he had found a compromise which would 
set his conscience at rest. "I will preserve my life," he 
said, " to dedicate it to the Lord." This delusion had 
scarcely laid hold of his mind before his views were con- 
fused, his faith was veiled ; the Holy Ghost departed from 
him ; God gave him over to his carnal thoughts, and under 
the pretext of being useful to Jesus Christ for many years, 
Bilney disobeyed him at the present moment. Being led 
before the bishops on the morning of Saturday the 7th of 
Foxe, iv. p. 638. 

c2 



322 BILNEY'S FALL HIS SPIRITUAL TERROHS. 

December, at nine o'clock, he fell (Arthur had fallen be- 
fore him), and whilst the false friends who had misled him 
hardly dared raise their eyes, the living church of Christ in 
England uttered a cry of anguish. " If ever you come in 
danger," said Latimer, " for God's quarrel, I would advise 
you, above all things, to abjure all your friendships ; leave 
not one unabjured. It is they that shall undo you, and not 
your enemies. It was his very friends that brought Bilney 
to it." * 

On the following day (Sunday, 8th December), Bilney was 
placed at the head of a procession, and the fallen disciple, 
bareheaded, with a fagot on his shoulders, stood in front of 
St Paul's cross, while a priest from the pulpit exhorted him 
to repentance ; after which he was led back to prison. 

What a solitude for the wretched man ! At one time the 
cold darkness of his cell appeared to him as a burning fire ; 
at another he fancied he heard accusing voices crying to 
him in the silence of the night. Death, the very enemy he 
had wished to avoid, fixed his icy glance upon him and filled 
him with fear. He strove to escape from the horrible 
spectre, but in vain. Then the friends who had dragged him 
into this abyss crowded round and endeavoured to console 
him ; but if they gave utterance to any of Christ's gentle 
promises, Bilney started back with affright and shrank to the 
farthest part of the dungeon, with a cry " as though a man 
had run him through the heart with a sword." f Having 
denied the word of God, he could no longer endure to hear 
it. The curse of the Apocalypse : Ye mountains, hide me 
from the wrath of the Lamb ! was the only passage of Scrip- 
ture in harmony with his soul. His mind wandered, the 
blood froze in his veins, he sank under his terrors ; he lost 
all sense, and almost his life, and lay motionless in the arms 
of his astonished friends. " God," exclaimed those unhappy 
individuals who had caused his fall, " God, by a just judg- 
ment, delivers up to the tempests of their conscience all who 
deny his truth." 

This was not the only sorrow of the church. As soon as 
Richard Bayfield, the late chamberlain of Bury, had joined 

* Latimer's Sermons (Parker's Society), p. 222. t Ibid. 



BAYFIELD ARRESTED. 323 

Tyndale and Fryth, he said to them : " I am at your dis- 
posal ; you shall be my head and I will be your hand ; I 
will sell your books and those of the German reformers in 
the Low Countries, France, and England." It was not long 
indeed before he returned to London. But Pierson, the 
priest whom he had formerly met in Lombard Street, found 
him again, and accused him to the bishop. The unhappy 
man was brought before Tonstall. " You are charged," said 
the prelate, " with having asserted that praise is due to God 
alone, and not to saints or creatures."* Bayfield acknowl- 
edged the charge to be true. " You are accused of main- 
taining that every priest may preach the word of God by 
the authority of the gospel without the license of the pope 
or cardinals." This also Bayfield acknowledged. A pen- 
ance was imposed on him ; and then he was sent back to 
his monastery with orders to show himself there on the 25th 
of April. But he crossed the sea once more, and hastened 
to join Tyndale. 

The New Testaments, however, sold by him and others, 
remained in England. At that time the bishops subscribed 
to suppress the Scriptures, as so many persons have since 
done to circulate them ; and, accordingly, a great number of 
the copies brought over by Bayfield and his friends were 
bought up.-{- A scarcity of food was erelong added to the 1 
scarcity of the word of God ; for as the cardinal was endea- 
vouring to foment a war between Henry and the emperor, 
the Flemish ships ceased to enter the English ports. It was 
in consequence of this that the lord mayor and aldermen of 
London hastened to express their apprehensions to Wolsey 
almost before he had recovered from the fatigues of his re- 
turn from France. " Fear nothing," he told them ; " the 
king of France assured me, that if he had three bushels of 
wheat, England should have two of them." But none 
arrived, and the people were on the point of breaking out 
into violence, when a fleet of ships suddenly appeared off the 
mouth of the Thames. They wereGerman and Flemish 
vessels laden with corn, in which the worthy people of the 

* That all laud and praise should be given to God alone. Foxe, iv. 
p. 682. f Anderson Annals of the Bible, i. p. 158. 



324 FOURTH EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

Low Countries had also concealed the New Testament. An 
Antwerp bookseller, named John Kaimond or Ruremond, 
from his birthplace, had printed a fourth edition more beau- 
tiful than the previous ones. It was enriched with refer- 
ences and engravings on wood, and each page bordered with 
red lines. Raimond himself had embarked on board one of 
the ships with five hundred copies of his New Testament.* 
About Christmas 1527, the book of God was circulated in 
England along with the bread that nourishes the body. But 
certain priests and monks having discovered the Scriptures 
among the sacks of corn, they carried several copies to the 
bishop of London, who threw Raimond into prison. The 
greater part, however, of the new edition escaped him. The 
New Testament was read everywhere, and even the court 
did not escape the contagion. Anne Boleyn, notwithstanding 
her smiling face, often withdrew to her closet at Greenwich 
or at Hampton Court, to study the gospel. Frank, coura- 
geous, and proud, she did not conceal the pleasure she found 
in such reading; her boldness astonished the courtiers, and 
exasperated the clergy. In the city things went still farther : 
the New Testament was explained in frequent conventicles, 
particularly in the house of one Russell, and great was the 
joy among the faithful. " It is sufficient only to enter 
London," said the priests, " to become a heretic !" The Re- 
formation was taking root among the people before it arrived 
at the upper classes. 

* Foxe, v. p. 27. 



POPERY INTERCUTS THE GOSPEL. 8ti5 

* 



CHAPTER VIII. 



Che Papacy intercepts the Gospel The King consults Sir Thomas More 
Ecclesiastical Conferences about the Divorce The Universities 
Clarke The Nun of Kent Wolsey decides to do the King's Will Mis- 
sion to the Pope Four Documents Embarrassment of Charles V. 
Francis Philip at Madrid Distress and Resolution of Charles He 
turns away from the Reformation Conference at the Castle of St 
Angelo Knight arrives in Italy His Flight Treaty between the 
Pope and the Emperor Escape of the Pope Confusion of Henry 
VIII. Wolsey's Orders His Entreaties. 



THE sun of the word of God, which daily grew brighter in 
the sky of the sixteenth century, was sufficient to scatter all 
the darkness in England ; but popery, like an immense wall, 
intercepted its rays. Britain had hardly received the Scrip- 
tures in Greek and Latin, and then in English, before the 
priests began to make war upon them with indefatigable 
zeal. It was necessary that the wall should be thrown 
down in order that the sun might penetrate freely among 
the Anglo-Saxon people. And now events were ripening in 
England, destined to make a great breach in popery. The 
negotiations of Henry VIII. with Clement VII. play an im- 
portant part in the Reformation. By showing up the Court 
of Rome, they destroyed the respect which the people felt 
for it ; they took away that power and strength, as Scripture 
says, which the monarchy had given it ; and the throne ot 
the pope once fallen in England, Jesus Christ uplifted and 
strengthened his own. 

Henry, ardently desiring an heir, and thinking that he had 
found the woman that would ensure his own and England's 
happiness, conceived the design of severing the ties that 
united him to the queen, and with this view he consulted his 
most favourite councillors about the divorce. There was 
one in particular whose approval he coveted : this was Sir 
Thomas More. One day as Erasmus's friend was walking 



326 CONFERENCES ABOUT THE DIVORCE. 

with his master in th^e beautiful gallery at Hampton Court, 
giving him an account (jf a mission he had just executed on 
the continent, the king suddenly interrupted him : " My 
marriage with the queen," he said, " is contrary to the laws 
of God, of the church, and of nature." He then took up the 
Bible, and pointed out the passages in his favour.* " I am 
not a theologian," said More, somewhat embarrassed " your 
majesty should consult a council of doctors." 

Accordingly, by Henry's order, Warham assembled the 
most learned canonists at Hampton Court ; but weeks passed 
away before they could agree.-]- Most of them quoted in the 
king's favour those passages in Leviticus (xviii. 16 ; xx. 21,) 
which forbid a man to take his brother's wife.\ But Fisher, 
bishop of Rochester, and the other opponents of the divorce, 
replied that, according to Deuteronomy (xxv. 5,) when a 
woman is left a widow without children, her brother-in-law 
ought to take her to wife, to perpetuate his brother's name 
in Israel. " This law concerned the Jews only," replied the 
partisans of the divorce ; they added that its object was " to 
maintain the inheritances distinct, and the genealogies in- 
tact, until the coming of Christ. The Judaical dispensation 
has passed away ; but the law of Leviticus, which is a moral 
law, is binding upon all men in all ages." 

To free themselves from their embarrassment, the bishops 
demanded that the most eminent universities should be con- 
sulted; and commissioners were forthwith despatched to 
Oxford, Cambridge, Paris, Orleans, Toulouse, Louvain, Padua, 
and Bologna, furnished with money to reward the foreign 
doctors for the time and trouble this question would cost 
them. This caused some little delay, and every means was 
now to be tried to divert the king from his purpose. 

Wolsey, who was the first to suggest the idea of a divorce, 
was now thoroughly alarmed. It appeared to him that a 
nod from the daughter of the Boleyns would hurl him from 

* Laid the Bible open before me, and showed me the words. More to 
Cromwell, Strype, i. 2d part, p. 97. 

f Consulting from day to day, and time to time. Cavendish, p. 209. 

Ex his doctoribus asseritur quod Papa non potest dispensare in prime 
gradu affinitatis. Barnet's Reform, ii. Records,*p. 8 (Lond. 1841). 



CLARKE'S OBJECTION. 327 

the post he had so laboriously won, ar\d this made him vent 
his ill-humour on all about him, at one time threatening 
Warham, and at another persecuting Pace. But fearing to 
oppose Henry openly, he summoned from Paris, Clarke, 
bishop of Bath and Wells, at that time ambassador to the 
French court. The latter entered into his views, and after 
cautiously preparing the way, he ventured to say to the king : 
" The progress of the inquiry will be so slow, your majesty, 
that it will take more than seven years to bring it to an end !" 
" Since my patience has already held out for eighteen years," 
the king replied coldly; " I am willing to wait four or five 
more."* 

As the political party had failed, the clerical party set in 
motion a scheme of another kind. A young woman, Eliza- 
beth Barton, known as the holy maid of Kent, had been sub- 
ject from childhood to epileptic fits. The priest of her parish, 
named Masters, had persuaded her that she was inspired of 
God, and confederating with one Bocking, a monk of Canter- 
bury, he turned the weakness of the prophetess to account. 
Elizabeth wandered over the country, passing from house to 
house, and from convent to convent ; on a sudden her limbs 
would become rigid, her features distorted ; violent convul- 
sions shook her body, and strange unintelligible sounds fell 
from her lips, which the amazed bystanders received as re- 
velations from the Virgin and the saints. Fisher, bishop of 
Rochester, Abel, the queen's ecclesiastical agent, and even 
Sir Thomas More, were among the number of Elizabeth's 
partisans. Rumours of the divorce having reached the saint's 
ears, an angel commanded her to appear before the cardinal. 
As soon as she stood in his presence, the colour fled from 
her cheeks, her limbs trembled, and falling into an ecstasy, 
she exclaimed : " Cardinal of York, God has placed three 
swords in your hand : the spiritual sword, to range the church 
under the authority of the pope ; the civil sword, to govern 
the realm ; and the sword of justice, to prevent the divorce 
of the king If you do not wield these three swords faith- 

* Since his patieneo had already held out for eighteen years. CoUyer, 
ii. p. 24. 



328 FOUK DOCUMENTS REQUIRED OP THE 1'OPE. 

fully, God will lay it sore to your charge."* After these 
words the prophetess withdrew. 

But other influences were then dividjng Wolsey's breast: 
hatred, which induced him to oppose the divorce ; and am- 
bition, which forboded his ruin in this opposition. At last 
ambition prevailed, and he resolved to make his objections 
forgotten by the energy of his zeal. 

Henry hastened to profit by this change. " Declare the 
divorce yourself," said he to Wolsey ; " has not the pope 
named you his vicar-general ?"-J- The cardinal was not 
anxious to raise himself so high. " If I were to decide the 
affair," said he, " the queen would appeal to the pope, 
we must therefore either apply to the holy father for special 
powers, or persuade the queen to retire to a nunnery. And 
if we fail in either of these expedients, we will obey the 
voice of conscience, even in despite of the pope.":}: It was 
arranged to begin with the more regular attempt, and Gre- 
gory Da Casale, secretary Knight, and the prothonotary 
Gambara, were appointed to an extraordinary mission at the 
pontifical court. Casale was Wolsey's man, and Knight was 
Henry's. Wolsey told the envoys : " You will demand of 
the pope, Istly, a commission authorizing me to inquire into 
this matter ; 2dly : his promise to pronounce the nullity of 
Catherine's marriage with Henry, if we should find that her 
marriage with Arthur was consummated ; and 3dly, a dis- 
pensation permitting the king to marry again." In this 
manner Wolsey hoped to make sure of the divorce without 
damaging the papal authority. It was insinuated that false 
representations, with regard to the consummation of the first 
marriage, had been sent from England to Julius II., which 
had induced the pontiff to permit the second. The pope be- 
ing deceived as to the fact, his infallibility was untouched, 
Wolsey desired something more ; knowing that no confidence 

* Strype, vol. i. part i. p. 279. 

f- When Napoleon, from similar motives, desired to separate from 
Josephine, fearing the unwillingness of the pope (as Henry did), he en- 
tertained, like him, the design of doing without the pontiff, and of getting 
his marriage annulled by the French bishops. As he was more powerful, 
he succeeded. 

J Quid possit clam fieri quoad forum conscientise. Collyer, ii. p. 24. 



THE POPE CANNO1 ERR. 329 

could be put in the good faitli of the pontiff, lie demanded a 
fourth instrument, by which the pope should bind himself 
never to recall the other three ; he only forgot to take pre- 
cautions in case Clement should withdraw the fourth. " With 
these four snares, skilfully combined," said the cardinal, " I 
shall catch the hare; if he escapes from one, he will fall into 
the other." The courtiers anticipated a speedy termination 
of the affair. Was not the emperor the declared enemy ot 
the pontiff? Had not Henry, on the contrary, made -himself 
protector of the Clementine league ? Could Clement hesitate, 
when called upon, to choose between his jailer and his 
benefactor ? 

Indeed, Charles V., at this moment, was in a very em- 
barrassing position. It is true, his guards were posted at 
the gates of the castle of St Angelo, where Clement was a 
prisoner, and people in Rome said to one another with a 
smile: " Now indeed it is true, Papa non potest errare. n * 
But it was not possible to keep the pope a prisoner in Rome ; 
and then what was to be done with him ? The viceroy of 
Naples proposed to Alercon, the governor of St Angelo, to 
remove Clement to Gaeta; but the affrighted colonel ex- 
claimed : " Heaven forbid that I should drag after me the 
very body of God !" Charles thought one time of transport- 
ing the pontiff to Spain ; but might not an enemy's fleet 
carry him off on the road ? The pope in prison was far more 
embarrassing to Charles than the pop*e at liberty. 

It was at this critical time that Francis Philip, Queen 
Catherine's servant, having escaped the snares laid by Henry 
VIII. and Wolsey, arrived at Madrid, where he passed a 
whole day in conference with Charles V. This prince was 
at first astonished, shocked even, by the designs of the king 
of England. The curse of God seemed to hang over his 
house. His mother was a lunatic ; his sister of Denmark 
expelled from her dominions ; his sister of Hungary made a 
widow by the battle of Mohacz; the Turks were encroaching 
upon his territories; Lautrec was victorious in Italy, and 

* The pope cannot err, a play upon the double meaning of the word 
errare. 

VOL. Y. 15 



330 CHARLES TURNS TOWARDS CLEMENT. 

the catholics, irritated by the pope's captivity, detested his 
ambition. This was not enough. Henry VIII. was striving 
to divorce his aunt, and the pope would naturally give his 
aid to this criminal design. Charles must choose between 
the pontiff and the king. The friendship of the king of 
England might aid him in breaking the league formed to 
expel him from Italy, and by sacrificing Catherine he would 
be sure to obtain his support ; but placed between reasons 
of state and his aunt's honour, the emperor did not hesitate; 
he even renounced certain projects of reform that he had at 
heart. He suddenly decided for the pope, and from that 
very hour followed a new course. 

Charles, who possessed great discernment, had understood 
his age ; he had seen that concessions were called for by the 
movement of the human mind, and would have desired to 
carry out the change from the middle ages to modern times 
by a carefully managed transition. He had consequently 
demanded a council to reform the church and weaken the 
Romish dominion in Europe. But very different was the 
result. If Charles turned away from Henry, he was obliged 
to turn towards Clement; and after having compelled the 
head of the church to enter a prison, it was necessary to 
place him once more upon the throne. Charles V. sacrificed 
the interests of Christian society to the interests of his own 
family. This divorce, which in England has been looked 
upon as the ruin of thepopedom, was what saved it in con- 
tinental Europe. 

But how could the emperor win the heart of the pontiff, 
filled as it was with bitterness and anger ? He selected for 
this difficult mission a friar of great ability, De Angelis, 
general of the Spanish Observance, and ordered him to pro- 
ceed to the castle of St Angelo under the pretext of nego- 
tiating the liberation of the holy father. The cordelier was 
conducted to the strongest part of the fortress, called the 
Rock, where Clement was lodged; and the two priests 
brought all their craft to bear on each other. The monk, 
assisted by the artful Moncade, adroitly mingled together 
the pope's deliverance and Catherine's marriage. He af- 



A CONFERENCE AT ST ANGELO. 331 

firmed that the emperor wished to open the gates of the 
pontiffs prison, and had already given the order;* and then 
he added immediately : " The emperor is determined to main- 
tain the rights of his aunt, and will never consent to the 
divorce."-}- " If you are a -700^ shepherd to me," wrote 
Charles to the pope with his own hand on the 22d of No- 
vember, " I will be a good sheep to you." Clement smiled 
as he read these words ; he understood his position ; the 
emperor had need of the. priest, Charles was at his captive's 
feet; Clement was saved! The divorce was a rope fallen 
from the skies which could not fail to drag him out of the 
pit ; he had only to cling to it quietly in order to reascend 
his throne. Accordingly from that hour Clement appeared 
less eager to quit the castle than Charles to liberate him. 
" So long as the divorce is in suspense," thought the crafty 
De' Medici, " I have two great friends ; but as soon as I 
declare for one, I shall have a mortal enemy in the other." 
He promised the monk to come to no decision in the matter 
without informing the emperor. 

Meantime Knight, the envoy of the impatient monarch, 
having heard, as he crossed the Alps, that the pope was at 
liberty, hastened on to Parma, where he met Gambara : 
" He is not free yet," replied the prothonotary ; " but the 
general of the Franciscans hopes to terminate his captivity 
in a few days.}: Continue your journey," he added. Knight 
could not do so without great danger. He was told at 
Foligno, sixty miles from the metropolis, that if he had not 
a safe-conduct he could not reach Rome without exposing 
his life ; Knight halted. Just then a messenger from Henry 
brought him despatches more pressing than ever; Knight 
started again with one servant and a guide. At Monte 
Rotondo he was nearly murdered by the inhabitants; but 
on the next day (25th November), protected by a violent 

* La Ca'sarea Majesta si come grandamente desidera la liberatione de 
nostro signer, cosi cfficacementc la manda. Capituli, etc. Le Grand, 
iii. p. 48. 

f That in anywise he should not consent to the same. State Papers, 
vii. p. 29. 

Quod sperabat intra paucos dies auferre sun? Sanctitati squalorem et 
tenebras. Stat Papers, vii. p. 13. 



it32 KNIGHT ARRIVES IN ITALY. 

storm of wind and rain,* Henry's envoy entered Rome at ten 
o'clock without being observed, and kept himself concealed. 

It was impossible to speak with Clement, for the emperor's 
orders were positive. Knight, therefore, began to practise 
upon the cardinals; he gained over the cardinal of Pisa, 
by whose means his despatches were laid before the pontiff. 
Clement after reading them laid them down with a smile of 
satisfaction.-}- " Good !" said he, " here is the other coining 
to me now!" But night had harcjly closed in before the 
cardinal of Pisa's secretary hastened to Knight and told 
him:." Don Alercon is informed of your arrival; and the 
pope entreats you to depart immediately." This officer had 
scarcely left him, when the prothonotary Gambara arrived in 
great agitation : " Hjs holiness presses you to leave ; as 
soon as he is at liberty, he will attend to your master's re- 
quest." Two hours after this, two hundred Spanish soldiers 
arrived, surrounded the house in which Knight had concealed 
himself, and searched it from top to bottom, but to no pur- 
pose; the English agent had 'escaped.:}: 

Knight's safety was not the true motive which induced 
Clement to urge his departure. The very day on which the 
pope received the message from the king of England, he 
signed a treaty with Charles V., restoring him, under certain 
conditions, to both his powers. At the same time the pon- 
tiff, for greater security, pressed the French general Lautrec 
to hasten his march to Rome in order to save him from the 
hands of the emperor. Clement, a disciple of Machiavelli, 
thus gave the right hand to Charles and the left to Francis ; 
and as he had not another for Henry, he made him the most 
positive promises. Each of the three princes could reckon 
on the pope's friendship, and on the same grounds. 

The 10th of December (1527) was the day on which Cle- 
ment's imprisonment would terminate ; but he preferred 
owing his freedom to intrigue rather than to the emperor's 

* Veari trobelous with wynde and rayne, and therefore more mete for 
our voyage. State Papers, vii. p. 16. 

t Reponed the same saufly, as Gambara showed unto me. Ibid. p. 17. 

+ I was not passed out of Rome, by the space of two hours, ere two 
hundred Spaniards invaded and searched the house. Burnet, Records f 
it. p. 12 



THE KING'S REMORSE. 333 

generosity. He therefore procured the dress of a tradesman 
and, on the evening before the day fixed for his deliverance, 
his ward being already much relaxed, he escaped from tht 
castle, and, accompanied only by Louis of Gonzago in his 
flight, he made his way to Orvieto. 

While Clement was experiencing all the joy of a man just 
escaped from prison, Henry was a prey to the most violent 
agitation. Having ceased to love Catherine, he persuaded 
himself that he was*the victim of his father's ambition, a 
martyr to duty, and the champion of conjugal sanctity. His 
very gait betrayed his vexation, and even among the gay 
conversation of the court, deep sighs would escape from his 
bosom. He had frequent interviews with Wolsey. " I re- 
gard the safety of my soul above all things,"* he said ; " but 
I am concerned also for the peace of my kingdom. For a 
long while an unceasing remorse has been gnawing at my 
conscience,-!- and my thoughts dwell upon my marriage with 
unutterable sorrow.:): God, in his wrath, has taken away 
my sons, and if I persevere in this unlawful union, he will 
visit me with still more terrible chastisements. My only 
hope is in the holy father." Wolsey replied with a low bow : 
" Please your majesty, I am occupied with this business, as 
if it were my only means of winning heaven." 

And indeed he redoubled his exertions. He wrote to Sir 
Gregory Da Casale on the 5th of December (1527): " You 
will procure an audience of the pope at any price. Disguise 
yourself, appear before him as the servant of some nobleman, || 
or as a messenger from the duke of Ferrara. Scatter money 
plentifully ; sacrifice everything, provided you procure a se- 
cret interview with his holiness ; ten thousand ducats are at 
your disposal. You will explain to Clement the king's 
scruples, and the necessity of providing for the continuance 
of his house and the peace of his kingdom. You will tell 
him that in order to restore him to liberty, the king is ready 

* Deumque primo et ante omnia ac aninue sum quietem et salutcm 
respiciens. Burnct's Reformation, ii. Records, p. vii. 

+ Longo jam temporo intimo suae conscientise remorsu. Ibid. 

* Ingenti cum molestia cordisque perturbatioue. Ibid. 
Graviusque a Deo supplicium expavcscit. Ibid. p. viii. 
3 Mutato halitu et tanquam alicujus minister. Ibid. 



334 WOLSEY'S ALTEKNATIVE. 

to declare war against the emperor, and thus show himself 
to all the world to be a true son of the church." 

Wolsey saw clearly that it was essential to represent the 
divorce to Clement VII. as a means likely to secure the safety 
of the popedom. The cardinal, therefore, wrote again to Da 
Casale on the 6th of December: " Night and day, I revolve 
in my mind the actual condition of the church,* and seek the 
means best calculated to extricate the pope from the gulf into 
which he has fallen. While I was turning these thoughts 
over in my mind during a sleepless night one way sud- 
denly occurred to me. I said to myself, the king must be 
prevailed upon to undertake the defence of the holy father. 
This was no easy matter, for his majesty is strongly attached 
to the emperor ;f however, I set about my task. I told the 
king that his holiness was ready to satisfy him ; I staked 

my honour; I succeeded To save the pope, my master 

will sacrifice his treasures, subjects, kingdom, and even his 

lifef I therefore conjure his holiness to entertain our just 

demand." 

Never before had such pressing entreaties been made to a 
pope. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The English Envoys at Orvieto Their Oration to the Pope Clement 
gains Time The Envoys and Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor Stratagem 
of the Pope Knight discovers it and returns The Transformations of 
Antichrist The English obtain a new Document Fresh Stratagem 
Demand of a second Cardinal-legate The Pope's new Expedient End 
of the Campaign. 

THE envoys of the king of England appeared in the character 
of the saviours of Home. This was doubtless no stratagem ; 

* Diuque ac noctu mente volvens quo facto. State Papers, vii. p. 18. 
+ Adeo tenaciter Csesari adhserebat. Ibid. 
$ Usque ad mortem. Ibid. p. 19. 



ENGLISH ENVOYS AND THE POPE. 335 

and Wolsey probably regarded ^at thought as coming from 
heaven, which had visited him during the weary sleepless 
night. The zeal of his agents increased. The pope was 
hardly set at liberty, before Knight and Da Casale appeared 
at the foot of the precipitous rock on which Orvieto is built, 
and demanded to be introduced to Clement VII. Nothing 
could be more compromising to the pontiff than such a visit. 
How could he appear on good terms with England, when 
Rome and all his states were still in the hands of Catherine's 
nephew? The pope's mind was utterly bewildered by the 
demand of the two envoys. He recovered however to reject 
the powerful hand extended to him by England was not 
without its danger ; and as he knew well how to bring a 
difficult negotiation to a successful conclusion, Clement re- 
gained confidence in his skill, and gave orders to introduce 
Henry's ambassadors. 

Their discourse was not without eloquence. " Never was 
the church in a more critical position," said they. "The 
unmeasured ambition of the kings who claim to dispose of 
spiritual affairs at their own pleasure (this was aimed at 
Charles V.) holds the apostolical bark suspended over an 
abyss. The only port open to it in the tempest is the favour 
of the august prince whom we represent, and who has always 
been the shield of the faith. But, alas ! this monarch, the 
impregnable bulwark of your holiness, is himself the prey of 
tribulations almost equal to your own. His conscience torn 
by remorse, his crown without an heir, his kingdom without 
security, his people exposed once more to perpetual disorders 

Nay, the whole Christian world given up to the most 

cruel discord.* Such are the consequences of a fatal union 

which God has marked with his displeasure There are 

also," they added in a lower tone, " certain things of which 

his majesty cannot speak in his letter certain incurable 

disorders under which the queen suffers, which will never 
permit the king to look upon her again as his wife.f If your 

* Discordioe crudelissimse per omnem christianum orbem. State Pa- 
pers, vii. p. 19. 

f Nonnulla sunt secreta S.D.N. secrete exponenda et non credend.i 

scriptis ob morbos nonnullos quibus absque remedio regina laborat. 

Ibid. 



336 CLEMENT'S EMBARRASSMENT. 

holiness puts an end to such wretchedness by annulling his 
unlawful marriage, you wilfattach his majesty by an indis- 
soluble bond. Assistance, riches, armies, crown, and even 
life the king our master is ready to employ all in the ser- 
vice of Koine. He stretches out his hand to you, most holy 

father stretch out yours to him ; by your union the church 

will be saved, and Europe will be saved with it." 

Clement was cruelly embarrassed. His policy consisted 
in holding the balance between the two princes, and he was 
now called upon to decide in favour of one of them. He 
began to regret that he had ever received Henry's ambassa- 
dors. " Consider my position," he said to them, " and en- 
treat the king to wait until more favourable events leave me 
at liberty to act." "What!" replied Knight proudly, "has 
not your holiness promised to consider his majesty's prayer ? 
If you fail in your promise now, how can I persuade the king 
that you will keep it some future day ? " * Da Casale thought 
the time had come to strike a decisive blow. " What evils," 
he exclaimed, " what inevitable misfortunes your refusal 

will create! The emperor thinks only of depriving the 

church of its power, and the king of England alone has sworn 
to maintain it." Then speaking lower, more slowly, and 
dwelling upon every word, he continued : " We fear that 

his majesty, reduced to such extremities of the two 

evils will choose the leastfi and supported by the purity oi 

his intentions, will do of his own authority what he 

now so respectfully demands What should we see then ? 

I shudder at the thought Let not your holiness 

indulge in a false security which will inevitably drag you 

into the abyss Read all remark all divine all 

take note of all.J Most holy father, this is a question 

of life and death." And Da Casale's tone said more than his 
words. 

Clement understood that a positive refusal would expose 
him to lose England. Placed between Henry and Charles, 
as between the hammer and the forge, he resolved to gain 

* Perform the promise once broken. Burnet's Ref. ii. Records, p. xiii. 
f" Ex duobus malis minus malum eligat. State Papers, vii. p. 20. 
J Ut non grayetur, cuncta legere, et bene notare. Ibid. p. 18, 



PAPAL DELAYS. 337 

time. "Well then," he said to Knight and Da Casale, "I 
will do what you ask ; but I am not familiar with the/orms 

these dispensations require I will consult the Cardinal 

tianctomm Quatuor on the subject and then will inform 

you." 

Knight and Da Casale, wishing to anticipate Clement VIL, 
hastened to Lorenzo Pucci, cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor, and 
intimated to him that their master would know how to be 
grateful. The cardinal assured the deputies of his affection 
for Henry VIII., and they, in the fulness of their gratitude, 
laid before him the four documents which they were anxious 
to get executed. But the cardinal had hardly looked at the 
first the proposal that Wolsey should decide the matter of 
the divorce in England wluen he exclaimed : " Impossible ! 

a bull in such terms would cover with eternal disgrace 

not only his holiness and the king, but even the cardinal of 
York himself." The deputies were confounded, for Wolsey 
had ordered them to ask the pope for nothing but his signa- 
ture.* Recovering themselves, they rejoined : " All that we 
require is a competent commission." On his part, the pope 
wrote Henry a letter, in which he managed to say nothing. { 

Of the four required documents there were two on whose 
immediate despatch Knight and Da Casale insisted : these 
were the commission to pronounce the divorce, and the dis- 
pensation to contract a second marriage. The dispensation 
without the commission was of no value ; this the pope knew 
well ; accordingly he resolved to give the dispensation only. 
It was as if Charles had granted Clement when in prison 
permission to visit his cardinals, but denied him liberty to 
leave the castle of St Angelo. It is in such a manner as this 
that a religious system transformed into a political system 
has recourse, when it is without power, to stratagem. " The 
commission" said the artful Medici to Knight, " must be cor- 
rected according to the style of our court ; but here is the 
dispensation" Knight took the document ; it was addressed 

* Alia nulla re esset opus, prasterquam cjus Sanctitatis signature. 
State Papers, vii. p. 29. 

t Charissime in Christo fili, &c., dated 7th December 1527. IbkL 
'p. 27. 

15* P 



338 KNIGHT DUPED BY THE POPE. 

to Henry VIII. and ran thus : " We accord to you, in case 
your marriage with Catherine shall be declared null,* free 
liberty to take another wife, provided she have not been the 

wife of your brother " The Englishman was duped by 

the Italian. " To my poor judgment," he said, " this docu- 
ment will be of use to us." After this Clement appeared to 
concern himself solely about Knight's health, and suddenly 
manifested the greatest interest for him. " It is proper that 
you should hasten your departure," said he, " for it is neces- 
sary that you should travel at your ease. Gambara will 
follow you post, and bring the commission." Knight thus 
mystified, took leave of the pope, who got rid of Da Casale 
and Gambara in a similar manner. He then began to breathe 
once more. There was no diplomacy in Europe which Rome, 
even in its greatest weakness, could not easily dupe. 

It had now become necessary to elude the commission. 
While the king's envoys were departing in good spirits, 
reckoning on the document that was to follow them, the 
general of the Spanish Observance reiterated to the pontiff 
in every tone : " Be careful to give no document authorizing 
the divorce, and above all, do not permit this affair to be 
judged in Henry's states." The cardinals drew up the do- 
cument under the influence of De Angelis, and made it a 
masterpiece of insignificance. If good theology ennobles the 
heart, bad theology, so fertile in subtleties, imparts to the 
mind a skill by no means common ; and hence the most cele- 
brated diplomatists have often been churchmen. The act 
being thus drawn up, the pope despatched three copies, to 
Knight, to Da Casale, and to Gambara. Knight was near 
Bologna when the courier overtook him. He was stupified, 
and taking post-horses, returned with all haste to Orvieto.-J- 
Gambara proceeded through France to England with the 
useless dispensation which the. pope had granted. 

Knight had thought to meet with more good faith at thrc 
court of the pope than with kings, and he had been out- 
witted. What would Wolsey and Henry say of his folly ? 

* Matrimonium cum Calharina nnllum fuissc et esse declarari. Her- 
bert's Henry VIII. p. 280. 
t Burnet's Reformation, Records, ii. p. xiii. 



TRANSFORMATION OF ANTICHRIST. 339 

His wounded self-esteem began to make him believe all that 
Tyndale and Luther said of the popedom. The former had 
just published the Obedience of a Christian Man, and the 
Parable of the Wicked Mammon, in which he represented 
Rome as one of the transformations of Antichrist. " Anti- 
christ," said he in the latter treatise, "is not a man that 
should suddenly appear with wonders ; he is a spiritual 
thing, who was in the Old Testament, and also in the time 
of Christ and the apostles, and is now, and shall (I doubt 
not) endure till the world's end. His nature is (when he is 
overcome with the word of God) to go out of the play for a 
season, and to disguise himself, and then to come in again 
with a new name and new raiment. The Scribes and Pha- 
risees in the gospel were very Antichrists ; popes, cardinals, 
and bishops have gotten their new names, but the thing is 
all one. Even so now, when we have uttered [detected] 
him, he will change himself once more, and turn himself into 
an angel of light. Already the beast, seeing himself now to be 
sought for, roareth and seeketh new holes to hide himself in, 
and changeth himself into a thousand fashions."* This idea, 
paradoxical at first, gradually made its way into men's minds. 
The Romans, by their practices, familiarized the English to 
the somewhat coarse descriptions of the reformers. England 
was to have many sucn lessons, and thus by degrees learn to 
set Rome aside for the sake of her own glory and prosperity. 
Knight and Da Casale reached Orvieto about the same 
time. Clement replied with sighs : " Alas 1 I am the 
emperor's prisoner. The imperialists are every day pil- 
laging towns and castles in our neighbourhood. -j- 

Wretch that I am! I have not a friend except the king 
your master, and he is far away If I should do any- 
thing now to displease Charles, I am a lost man To 

sign the commission would be to sign an eternal rupture 
with him." But Knight and Da Casale pleaded so effectu- 
ally with Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor, and so pressed Cle- 

* Tyndale, Doctr. Tr. p. 42, 43. 

+ The imperialists do daily spoil castles and towns about Rome 

they have taken within three days two castles lying within six miles of 
this. Burnet's Ref. vcl. ii. Records, p. xiii. 



340 NEW STRATAGEM. 

ment, that the pontiff, without the knowledge of tile Spaniard 
De Angelis, gave them a more satisfactory document, but 
not such as Wolsey required. -" In giving you this com- 
mission," said the pope, " I am giving away my liberty, and 
perhaps my life. I listen not to the voice of prudence, but 
to that of affection only. I confide in the generosity of the 
king of England, he is the master of my destiny." He then 
began to weep,* and seemed ready to faint. Knight, for- 
getting his vexation, promised Clement that the king would 
do everything to save him. "Ah! "said the pope, " there 
is one effectual means." "What is that?" inquired Henry's 
agents. " M. Lautrec, who says daily that he will come, but 
never does," replied Clement, " has only to bring the French 
army promptly before the gates of Orvieto ; then I could 
excuse myself by saying that he constrained me to sign the 
commission."-}- "Nothing is easier," replied the envoys, "we 
will go and hasten his arrival." 

Clement was not even now at ease. The safety of the 

Roman church troubled him not less than his own 

Charles might discover the trick, and make the popedom 
suffer for it. There was danger on all sides. If the Eng- 
lish spoke of independence, did not the emperor threaten a 

reform? The catholic princes, said the papal councillors, 

are capable, without perhaps a single exception, of support- 
ing the cause of Luther to gratify a criminal ambition. J 
The pope reflected, and withdrawing his word, promised to 
give the commission when Lautrec was under the walls of 
Orvieto; but the English agents insisted on having it im- 
mediately. To conciliate all, it was agreed that the pope 
should give the required document at once, but as soon as 
the French army arrived, he should send another copy bear- 
ing the date of the day on which he saw Lautrec. " Beseech 
the king to keep secret the commission I give you," said 
Clement VII. to Knight ; " if he begins the process imme- 

* Cum suspiriis et lacrymis. Burnet's Ref. vol. ii. Records, p. xii. 

f And by this colour he would cover the matter. Ibid. 

Non potest Sua Sanctitas sibi persuadere ipsos principes (ut forte 
aliqui jactant) assumpturos sectam Lutheranam contra ecclesiam. State 
Papers, Tii. p. 47. Ibid. p. 36. 



HENRY DEMANDS ANOTIIEU J.EGATE. 341 

diately he receives it, I am undone for ever."* The pope 
thus gave permission to act, on condition of not acting at 
all. Knight took leave on the 1st of January 1528 ; lie 
promised all the pontiff desired, and then, as if fearing some 
fresh difficulty, he departed the same day. Da Casale, on 
his side, after having offered the Cardinal Sanctorum Qua- 
tuor a gift of 4000 crowns, which he refused, repaired to 
Lautrec, to heg him to constrain the pope to sign a docu- 
ment which was already on its way to England. 

But while the business seemed to be clearing at Rome, it 
was becoming more complicated in London. The king's 
project got wind, and Catherine gave way to the liveliest 
sorrow. "I shall protest," said she, "against the commis- 
sion given to the cardinal of York. Is he not the king's 
subject, the vile flatterer of his pleasures?" Catherine did 
not resist alone ; the people, who hated the cardinal, could 
not with pleasure see him invested with such authority. To 
obviate this inconvenience, Henry resolved to ask the pope 
for another cardinal, who should be empowered to terminate 
the affair in London with or without Wolsey. 

The latter agreed to the measure : it is even possible that 
he was the first to suggest it, for he feared to bear alone the 
responsibility of so hateful an inquiry. Accordingly, on the 
27th of December, he wrote to the king's agents at Rome: 
" Procure the envoy of a legate, and particularly of an able, 

.easy, manageable legate desirous of meriting the king's 

favour,-{- Campeggio for instance. You will earnestly re- 
quest the cardinal who may be selected, to travel with all 
diligence, and you will assure him that the king will behave 
liberally towards him."J 

Knight reached Asti on the 10th of January, where he 
found letters with fresh orders. This was another check : 
at one time it is the pope who compels him to retrograde, at 
another it is the king. Henry's unlucky valetudinarian se- 

* Is fully in yonr pnissance with publishing of the commission to de- 
stroy for ever. State Papers, vii. p. 36. 

f Eruilitus, indifferens, tractabilis, de regia majestate bene merendi 
cnpidus. Ibid. p. 33. 

J Regia majestas sumptus, labores. atqne molestias liberalissime com- 
pensct. Ibid. p. 34. 



342 THE POPE'S NEW EXPEDIENT. 

cretary, a man very susceptible of fatigue, and already wea- 
ried and exhausted by ten painful journeys, was in a very 
bad humour. He determined to permit Gambara to cany 
the two documents to England ; to commission Da Casale, 
who had not left the pope's neighbourhood, to solicit the 
despatch of the legate ; and as regarded himself, to go and 
wait for further orders at Turin : " If it be thought good 
unto the king's highness that I do return unto Orvieto, I 
shall do as much as my poor carcass may endure."* 

When Da Casale reached Bologna, he pressed Lautrec to 
go and constrain the pontiff to sign the act which Gambara 
was already bearing to England. On receiving the new 
despatches he returned in ail haste to Orvieto, and the pope 
was very much alarmed when he heard of his arrival. He 
had feared to grant a simple paper, destined to remain se- 
cret ; and now he is required to send a prince of the church ! 
Will Henry never be satisfied ? " The mission you desire 
would be full of dangers," he replied ; " but we have dis- 
covered another means, alone calculated to finish this busi- 
ness. Mind you do not say that I pointed it out to you," 
added the pope in a mysterious tone ; " but that it was sug- 
gested by Cardinal Sanctorum Quatuor and Simonetta." Da 
Casale was all attention. " There is not a doctor in the 
world who can better decide on this matter, and on its most 
private circumstances, than the king himself.-}- If therefore 
he sincerely believes that Catherine had really become his 
brother's wife, let him empower the cardinal of York to pro- 
nounce the divorce, and let him take another wife without 
any further ceremony ; ^ he can then afterwards demand the 
confirmation of the consistory. The affair being concluded 
in this way, I will take the rest upon myself." " But," said 
Da Casale, somewhat dissatisfied with this new intrigue, " I 
must fulfil my mission, and the king demands a legate." 
" And whom shall I send ?" asked Clement. " Da Monte? 
he cannot move. De Csesis? he is at Naples. Ara Cceli? 

* Burnet's Ref. vol. ii., Records, p. xiii. 

f Nullus doctor in mundo est, qui de bac- re melius deceracre possit 
tjiiam ipse rex. Ibid. p. xiv. 
t Aliam uxorcm ducat. Ibid. 



DISAPPOINTMENT IN ENGLAND. 343 

he has the gout. Piccolomini ? he is of the imperial party 

Campeggio would be the best, but he is at Rome, where 

he supplies my place, and cannot leave without peril to the 

church." And then with some emotion he added, "I throw 

myself into his majesty's arms. The emperor will never 
forgive what I am doing. If he hears of it he will summon 
me before his council; I shall have no rest until he has de- 
prived me of my throne and my life."* 

Da Casale hastened to forward to London the result of the 
conference. Clement being unable to untie the knot, re- 
quested Henry to cut it. Will this prince hesitate to employ 
so easy a means, the pope (Clement declared it himself) be- 
ing willing to ratify everything ? 

Here closes Henry's first campaign in the territories of the 
popedom. We shall now see the results of so many efforts. 



CHAPTER X. 

Disappointment in England War declared against Charles V. Wolsey 
desires to get him deposed by the Pope A new Scheme Embassy of 
Fox .and Gardiner Their Arrival at Orvieto Their first Interview 
with Clement The Pope reads a Treatise by Henry Gardiner's 
Threats and Clement's Promise The Modern Fabius Fresh Inter- 
view and Menaces The Pope has not the Key Gardiner's Proposition 
Difficulties and Delays of the Cardinals Gardiner's last Blows 
Reverses of Charles V. in Italy The Pope's Terror and Concession 
The Commission granted Wolsey demands the Engagement A Loop- 
hole The Pope's Distress. 

NEVER was disappointment more complete than that felt by 
Henry and Wolsey after the arrival of Gambara with the 
commission ; the king was angry, the cardinal vexed. What 
Clement called the sacrifice of his life was in reality but a 
sheet of paper fit only to be thrown into the fire. " This 
commission is of no value,"-}- said Wolsey. " And even to 

* Vocabit enm ad concilium, vel nihil alind quaeret, nisi ut enm omul 
Etatu et vita privet. Burnet, ii., Records, p. xxvi. 
f Nullius at roboris vel effeotus. State Papers, vii. p. fO. 



344 WAR DECLARED AGAINST CHARLES. 

put it into execution," added Henry, " we must wait until 
the imperialists have quitted Italy! The pope is putting us 
off to the Greek calends." " His holiness," observed the 
cardinal, " does not bind himself to pronounce the divorce ; 
the queen will therefore appeal from our judgment." "And 
even .if the pope had bound himself," added the king, " it 
would be sufficient for the emperor to smile upon him, to 
make him retract what he had promised." " It is all a cheat 
and a mockery," concluded both king and minister. 

What was to be done next? The only way to make 
Clement ours, thought Wolsey, is to get rid of Charles ; it is 
time his pride was brought down. Accordingly, on the 21st 
of January 1528, France and England declared hostilities 
against the Emperor. When Charles heard of this proceed- 
ing he exclaimed : " I know the hand that has flung the 
torch of war into the midst of Europe. My crime is not 
having placed the cardinal of York on St Peter's throne." 

A mere declaration of war was not enough for Wolsey ; 
the bishop of Bayonne, ambassador from France, seeing him 
one day somewhat excited,* whispered in his ear : " In for- 
mer times popes have deposed emperors for smaller offences." 
Charles's deposition would have delivered the king of France 
from a troublesome rival ; but Du Bcllay, fearing to take the 
initiative in so bold an enterprise, suggested the idea to the 
cardinal. Wolsey reflected : such a thought had never be- 
fore occurred to him. Taking the ambassador aside to a 
window, he there swore stoutly, said Du Bellay, that he 
should be delighted to use all his influence to get Charles 
deposed by the pope. " No one is more likely than your- 
self," replied the bishop, " to induce Clement to do it." " I 
will use all my credit," rejoined Wolsey, and the two priests 
separated. This bright idea the cardinal never forgot. 
Charles had robbed him of the tiara ; he will retaliate by 
depriving Charles of his crown. An eye for an eye, and a 
tooth for a tooth. Staffileo, dean of the Rota, was then in 
London, and, still burning with resentment against the author 
of the Sack of Rome, he favourably received the suggestions 
Wolsey made to him; and, finally, the envoy from John 
* Du Bellay to Francis I. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 64. 



WOLSEY'S NEW PROJECT. 345 

Zapolya, king-elect of Hungary, supported the project. But 
the kings of France and England were not so easily induced 
to put the thrones of kings at the disposal of the priests. It 
appears, however, that the pope was sounded on the subject , 
and if the emperor had been beaten in Italy, it is probable 
that the bull would have been fulminated against him. . His 
sword preserved his crown, and the plot of the two bishops 
failed. 

The king's councillors began to seek for less heroic means. 
" We must prosecute the affair at Rome" said some. " No," 
said others, " in England. The pope is too much afraid of 
the emperor to pronounce the divorce in person." " If the 
pope fears the emperor more than the king of England," 
exclaimed the proud Tudor, " we shall find some other way 
to set him at ease."* Thus, at the first contradiction, Henry 
placed his hand on his sword, and threatened to sever the ties 
which bound his kingdom to the throne of the Italian pontiff. 

" I have hit it !" said Wolsey at length ; " we must com- 
bine the two plans judge the affair in London, and at the 
same time bind the pontiff at Rome." And then the able 
cardinal proposed the draft of a bull, by which the pope, 
delegating his authority to two legates, should declare that 
the acts of that delegation should have a perpetual effect, 
notwithstanding any contrary decrees that might subse- 
quently emanate from his infallible authority .-{- A new mis- 
sion was decided upon for the accomplishment of this bold 
design. 

Wolsey, annoyed by the folly of Knight and his colleagues, 
desired men of another stamp. He therefore cast his eyes 
on his own secretary, Stephen Gardiner, an active man, in- 
telligent, supple, and crafty, a learned canonist^ desirous of 
the king's favour, and, above all, a good Romanist, which nt 
Rome was not without its advantage. Gardiner was in 
small the living image of his master ; and hence the cardinal 
sometimes styled him the half of himself .\ Edward Fox, the 

* Burnet's Reformation, i. p. 50. 

f Non obstantibus quibuscunque decretis ro vocatoriis praesentis concrs- 
sionis nostril-. Burnet, Records, ii. p. xvii. 
J Mei dimidium. Ibid. p. XT. 



346 THE ENVOYS AT ORVIETO. 

chief almoner, was joined with him a moderate, influential 
man, a particular friend of Henry's, and a zealous advocate 
of the divorce. Fox was named first in the commission ; 
but it was agreed that Gardiner should be the real head of 
the embassy. " Repeat without ceasing," Wolsey told them, 
" that his majesty cannot do otherwise than separate from 
the queen. Attack each one on his weak side. Declare to 
the pope that the king promises to defend him against the 
emperor; and to the cardinals that their services will be 
nobly rewarded.* If that does not suffice, let the energy of 
your words be such as to excite a wholesome fear in the 
pontiff." 

Fox and Gardiner, after a gracious reception at Paris 
(23d February) by Francis I., arrived at Orvieto on the 20th 
of March, after many perils, and with their dress in such dis- 
order, that no one could have taken them for ambassadors 
of Henry VIII. "What a city!" they exclaimed, as they 
passed through its streets ; " what ruins, what misery ! It 
is indeed truly called Orvieto (urbs vetus] \ " The state of 
the town gave them no^very grand idea of the state of the 
popedom, and they imagined that with a pontiff so poorly 
lodged, their negotiation could not be otherwise than easy. 
" I give you my house," said Da Casale, to whom they went, 
" my room and my own bed ; " and as they made some ob- 
jections, he added : " It is not possible to lodge you else- 
where ; I have even been forced to borrow what was neces- 
sary to receive you."-j- Da Casale, pressing them to change 
their clothes, which were still dripping (they had just crossed 
a river on their mules), they replied, that being obliged to 
travel post, they had not been able to bring a change of rai- 
ment. "Alas!" said Casale, "what is to be done? there 
are few persons in Orvieto who have more garments than 
one; | even the shopkeepers have no cloth for sale; this 
town is quite a prison. People say the pope is at liberty 
here. A pretty liberty indeed ! Want, impure air, wretched 
lodging, and a thousand other inconveniences, keep the holy 

* Money to present the cardinals. Strype's Mem. i. p. 137.. 
f Borrowing of diyers men so much as might furnish thre beds. 
Ibid. p. 139. JIbid 



FIKST AUDIENCE WITH THE POPE. 347 

father closer than when he was in the Castle of St Angelo. 
Accordingly, he told me the other day, it was better to be in 
captivity at Rome than at liberty here."* 

In two days, however, they managed to procure some new 
clothing ; and being now in a condition to show themselves, 
Henry's agents were admitted to an after-dinner audience on 
Monday the 22d of March (1528). 

Da Casale conducted them to an old building in ruins. 
" This is where his holiness lives," he said. They looked at 
one another with astonishment, and crossing the rubbish 
lying about, passed through three chambers whose ceilings 
had fallen in, whose windows were curtainless, and in which 
thirty persons, "riff-raf, were standing against the bare 
walls for a garnishment."-}- This was the pope's court. 

At length the ambassadors reached the pontiff's room, and 
placed Henrys letters in his hands. " Your holiness," said 
Gardiner, "when sending the king a "dispensation, was 
pleased to add, that if this document were not sufficient, you 
would willingly give a better. It is that favour the king 
now desires." The pope with embarrassment strove to 
soften his refusal. " I am informed," he said, " that the king 
is led on in this affair by a secret inclination, and that the 
lady he loves is far from being worthy of him." Gardiner 
replied with firmness: "The king truly desires to marry 
again after the divorce, that he may have an heir to the 
crown ; but the woman he proposes to take is animated by 
the noblest sentiments ; the cardinal of York and all Eng- 
land do homage to her virtues." \ The pope appeared con- 
vinced. " Besides," continued Gardiner, " the king has 
written a book on the motives of his divorce." " Good ! 
come and read it to me to-morrow," rejoined Clement. 

The next day the English envoys had hardly appeared 
before Clement took Henry's book, ran over it as he walked 
up and down the room, and then seating himself on a long 
bench covered with an old carpet, " not worth twenty pence." 
says an arnalist, he read the book aloud. He counted the 

" State Papers, vii. p. 63. f Strype, i. p. 139. 

t The -ivdinal's judgment as to the good qualities of the gentlewoman. 
Ibid. p. J41. . 



348 THE POPE THREATENED 

number of arguments, made objections as if Henry were pre- 
sent, and piled them one upon another without waiting for 
an answer. " The marriages forbidden in Leviticus," said 
he, in a short and quick tone of voice, " are permitted in 
Deuteronomy; now Deuteronomy coming after Leviticus, 
we are bound by the latter. The honour of Catherine and 
the emperor is at stake, and the divorce would give rise to a 
terrible war."* The pope continued speaking, and when- 
ever the Englishmen attempted to reply, he bade them be 
silent, and kept on reading. " It is an excellent book," said 
he, however, in a courteous tone, when he had ended ; " I 
shall keep it to read over again at my leisure." Gardiner 
then presenting a draft of the commission which Henry re- 
quired, Clement made answer : " It is too late to look at it 
now ; leave it with me." " But we are in haste," added 
Gardiner. " Yes, yes, I know it," said the pope. All his 
efforts tended to protract the business. 

On the 28th of March, the ambassadors were conducted 
to the room in which the pope slept ; the cardinals Sanctorum 
Quatuor and De Monte, as well as the councillor of the 
Rota, Simonetta, were then with him. Chairs were ar- 
ranged in a semicircle. " Be seated," said Clement, who 
stood in the middle.-]- " Master Gardiner, now tell me what 
you want." " There is no question between us. but one of 
time. You promised to ratify the divorce, as soon as it was 
pronounced ; and we require you to do before what you en- 
gage to do after. What is right on one day, must be right 
on another." Then, raising his voice, the Englishman added : 
" If his majesty perceives that no more respect is paid to him 
than to a common man,:}: he will have recourse to a remedy 
which I will not name, but which will not fail in its effect." 

The pope and his councillors looked at one another in 
silence ; they had understood him. The imperious Gardi- 
ner, remarking the effect which he had produced, then added 

* Quis praestabit ne hoc divortium magni alicujus belli causam prsebeat. 
Sanderus, p. 26. 

f- In medio semicirculi. Strype, Records, i. p. 81. 
J Promiscuse plebis. Ibid. p. 82. 
Every man looked on other and BO stayed. Ibid. 



THE TEMPORIZER. 349 

in an absolute tone : " We have our instructions, and are 
determined to keep to them." " I am ready to do everything 
compatible with my honour," exclaimed Clement, in alarm. 
" What your honour would not permit you to grant," said 
the proud ambassador, " the honour of the king, my master, 
would not permit him to ask." Gardiner's language became 
more imperative every minute. " Well, then," said Clement, 
driven to extremity, " I will do what the king demands, and 
if the emperor is angry, I cannot help it." The interview, 
which had commenced with a storm, finished with a gleam 
of sunshine. 

That bright gleam soon disappeared : Clement, who 
imagined he saw in Henry a Hannibal at war with Rome, 
wished to play the temporizer, the Fabius Cunctalor. " Bis 
dat qui cito dat" * said Gardiner sharply, who observed this 
manoeuvre. " It is a question of law," replied the pope, 
" and as I am very ignorant in these matters, I must give 
the doctors of the canon law the necessary time to make it 
all clear." " By his delays Fabius Maximus saved Rome," 
rejoined Gardiner; "you will destroy it by yours." { 
" Alas !" exclaimed the pope, " if I say the king is right, I 
shall have to go back to prison." J "When truth is con- 
cerned," said the ambassador, " of what consequence are the 
opinions of men ?" Gardiner was speaking at his ease, but 
Clement found that the castle of St Angelo was not without 
weight in the balance. " You may be sure that I shall do 
everything for the best," replied the modern Fabius. With 
these words the conference terminated. 

Such were the struggles of England with the popedom 
struggles which were to end in a definitive rupture. Gar- 
diner knew that he had a skilful adversary to deal with; 
too cunning to allow himself to be irritated, he coolly re- 
solved to frighten the pontiff: that was in his instructions. 
On the Friday before Palm Sunday, he was ushered into 
the pope's closet ; there he found Clement attended by De 

* He gives twice who gives qnickly. 

f In Fabio Maximo qui rem Romanam cunctaudo restituit. Strvpe, 
p. 90. 
Matcria novae captiritatis. Ibid. p. 86. 



350 GARDINER'S MENACES. 

Monte, Sanctorum Quatuor, Simonetta, Staffileo, Paul, 
auditor of the Rota, and Gambara. "It is impossible," 
said the cardinals, " to grant a decretal commission in which 
the pope pronounces de jure in favour of the divorce, with a 
promise of confirmation de facto" Gardiner insisted ; but 
no persuasion, " neither dulce nor poynante,"* could move 
the pontiff. The envoy judged the moment had come to 
discharge his strongest battery. " perverse race," said he 
to the pontiff's ministers, " instead of being harmless as 
doves, you are as full of dissimulation and malice as ser- 
pents ; promising everything but performing nothing. { 
England will be driven to believe that God has taken from 
you the key of knowledge, and that the laws of the popes, 
ambiguous to the popes themselves, are only fit to be cast 
into the fire.J The king has hitherto restrained his people, 
impatient of the Romish yoke ; but he will now give them 
the rein." A long and gloomy silence followed. Then the 
Englishman, suddenly changing his tone, softly approached 
Clement, who had left his seat, and conjured him in a low 
voice to consider carefully what justice required of him. 
" Alas !" replied Clement, "I tell you again, I am ignorant 
in these matters. According to the maxims of the canon 
law the pope carries all laws in the tablets of his heart, but 
unfortunately God has never given me the key that opens 
them." As he could not escape by silence, Clement re- 
treated under cover of a jest, and heedlessly pronounced the 
condemnation of the popedom. If he had never received 
the famous key, there was no reason why other pontiffs 
should have possessed it. ' The next day he found another 
loophole ; for when the ambassadors told him that the king 
would carry on the matter without him, he sighed, drew 
out his handkerchief, and said as he wiped his eyes : || 
"Would to God that I were dead!" Clement employed 
tears as a political engine. 

* Strype, Records, p. 114. 

f- Pleni omni dolo et versatione et dissimulatione. Verbis oinuia 
pollicentur, reipsa nihil prsestant. Ibid. p. 98. 

J Digna esse quae mandentur flammis pontificia jura. Ibid. 

Pontifex habet omnia jura in scrinio pectoris. Ibid. p. 9f. 

H Ibid. p. 100. 



THE GENERAL COMMISSION. 351 

" We shall not get the decretal commission," (that which 
pronounced the divorce), said Fox and Gardiner after this, 
" and it is not really necessary. Let us demand the general 
commission (authorizing the legates to pronounce it), and 
exact a promise that shall supply the place of the act 
which is denied us." Clement, who was ready to make all 
the promises in the world, swore to ratify the sentence of 
the legates without delay. Fox and Gardiner then pre- 
sented to Simonetta a draft of the act required. The dean, 
after reading it, returned it to the envoys, saying, " It is 
very well, I think, except the end;* show it Sanctorum 
Quatuor." The next morning they carried the draft to that 
cardinal : " How long has it been the rule for the patient to 
write the prescription ? I always thought it was the physi- 
cian's business." "No one knows the disease so well as the 
patient," replied Gardiner: "and this disease may be of such 
a nature that the doctor cannot prescribe the remedy with- 
out taking the patient's advice." Sanctorum Quatuor read 
the prescription, and then returned it, saying : " It is not 
bad, with the exception of the beginning.-^ Take the draft 
to De Monte and the other councillors." The latter liked 
neither beginning, middle, nor end. " We will send for you 
this evening," said De Monte. 

Three or four days having elapsed, Henry's envoys again 
waited on the pope, who showed them the draft prepared by 
his councillors. Gardiner remarking in it additions, re- 
trenchments, and corrections, threw it disdainfully from him, 
and said coldly : " Your holiness is deceiving us ; you have 
selected these men to be the instruments of your duplicity." 
Clement, in alarm, sent for Simonetta ; and after a warm 
discussion, f the envoys, more discontented than ever, 
quitted the pope at one in the morning. 

The night brings wisdom. " I only desire two little 
words more in the commission," said Gardiner next day to 
Clement and Simonetta. The pope requested Simonetta to 
wait upon the cardinals immediately ; the latter sent word 

The matter was good saving in the latter end. Strype, p. 102. 
t The beginning pleased him nol. Ibid. p. 103. 
t Inoalescente disputatione. Ibid. p. 104. 



352 A NEW TRAGEDY, 

that they were at dinner, and adjourned the business until 
the morrow. 

When Gardiner heard of this epicurean message, he 
thought the time had come for striking a decisive blow. A 
new tragedy began.* " We are deceived," exclaimed he 
" you are laughing at us. This is not the way to gain the 
favour of princes. Water mixed with wine spoils it ; -j- your 
corrections nullify our document. These ignorant and sus- 
picious priests have spelled over our draft as if a scorpion 
was hidden under every word.| You made us come to 
Italy," said he to Staffileo and Gambara, " like hawks 
which the fowler lures by holding out to them a piece of 
meat ; and now that we are here-, the bait has disappeared, 
and, instead of giving us what we sought, you pretend to 
lull us to sleep by the sweet voice of the sirens," || Then, 
turning to Clement, the English envoy added, " Your holi- 
ness will have to answer for this." The pope sighed and 
wiped away his tears. " It was God's pleasure," continued 
Gardiner, whose tone became more threatening every 
minute, " that we should see with our own eyes the disposi- 
tion of the people here. It is time to have done. Henry is 
not an ordinary prince, bear in mind that you are insult- 
ing the defender of the faith You are going to lose the 

favour of the only monarch who protects you, and the 
apostolical chair, already tottering, will fall into dust, and 
disappear entirely amidst the applause of all Christendom." 

Gardiner paused. The pope was moved. The state of 
Italy seemed to confirm but too strongly the sinister predic- 
tions of the envoy of Henry VIII. The imperial troops, 
terrified and pursued by Lautrec, had abandoned Rome and 
retired on Naples. The French general was following up 
this wretched army of Charles V., decimated by pestilence 
and debauchery ; Doria, at the head of his galleys, had de- 
stroyed the Spanish fleet ; .Gaeta and Naples only were left 

* Here began a new tragedy. Strype, p. 105. 

( Vinum conspurcat infusa aqua. Ibid. 

J Putantes sub omni verbo latere scorpionem. Ibid. 

Praetendere pugno carnem. Ibid. 

|| Dnleibus sirenum vocibus incaiitare. Ibid. 



THE COMMISSION GRANTED. 353 

to the imperialists ; and Lautrec, who was besieging the 
latter place, wrote to Henry on the 26th of August that all 
would soon be over. The timid Clement VII. had atten- 
tively watched all these catastrophes. Accordingly, Gar- 
diner had hardly denounced the danger which threatened 
the popedom, before he turned pale with affright, rose from 
his seat, stretched out his arms in terror, as if he had 
desired to repel some monster ready to devour him, and 
exclaimed, "Write, write! Insert whatever words you 
please." As he said this, he paced up and down the room, 
raising his hands to heaven and sighing deeply, while Fox 
and Gardiner, standing motionless, looked on in silence. A 
tempestuous wind seemed to be stirring the depths of the 
abyss ; the ambassadors waited until the storm was abated. 
At last Clement recovered himself,* made a few trivial ex- 
cuses, and dismissed Henry's ministers. It was an hour 
past midnight. 

It was neither morality, nor religion, nor even the laws 
of the church which led Clement to refuse the divorce ; am- 
bition and fear were his only motives. He would have 
desired that Henry should first constrain the emperor to 
restore him his territories. But the king of England, who 
felt himself unable to protect the pope against Charles, re- 
quired, however, this unhappy pontiff to provoke the 
emperor's anger. Clement reaped the fruits of that fatal 
system which had transformed the church of Jesus Christ 
into a pitiful combination of policy and cunning. 

On the next day, the tempest having thoroughly abated,-f- 
Sanctorum Quatuor corrected the commission. It was 
signed, completed by a leaden seal attached to a piece of 
string, and then handed to Gardiner, who read it. The bull 
was addressed to Wolsey, and " authorized him, in case In. 1 
should acknowledge the nullity of Henry's marriage, to 
pronounce judicially the sentence of divorce, but without 
noise or display of judgment ;f for that purpose he might 

* Compositis affectibus. Strype, p. 106. 
+ The divers tempests passed over. Ibid. 

J Sine strepitu ct figura judicii sententiam divortii judicialiter pro- 
fcrendam. Rvnier, Fcrdera, vi. pars ii. p. 05. 
VOL. V. 16 



354 THE ENGAGEMENT CONCEDED. 

take any English bishop for his colleague." " All that we 
can do you can do," said the pope. " We are very doubt- 
ful," said the importunate Gardiner after reading the bull, 
" whether this commission, without the clauses of confirma- 
tion and revocation, will satisfy his majesty ; but we will do 
all in our power to get him to accept it." " Above all, do 
not speak of our altercations," said the pope. Gardiner, 
like a discreet diplomatist, did not scruple to note down 
every particular in cipher in the letters whence these details 
are procured. " Tell the king," continued the pontiff, " that 
this commission is on my part a declaration of war against 
the emperor, and that I now place myself under his majesty's 
protection." The chief almoner of England departed for 
London with the precious document. 

But one storm followed close upon another. Fox had 
not long quitted Orvieto when ^new letters arrived from 
Wolsey, demanding the fourth of the acts previously re- 
quested, namely, the engagement to ratify at Rome whatever 
the commissioners might decide in England. Gardiner was 
to set about it in season and out of season ; the verbal pro- 
mise of the pope counted for nothing ; this document must 
be had, whether the pope was ill, dying, or dead.* "Ego et 
Rex meus, his majesty and I command you," said Wolsey ; 
" this divorce is of more consequence to us than twenty 
popedoms."-j- The English envoy renewed the demand. 
" Since you refuse the decretal," he said, " there is the 
greater reason why you should not refuse the engagement" 
This application led to fresh discussion and fresh tears. 
Clement gave way once more ; but the Italians, more crafty 
than Gardiner, reserved a loophole in the document through 
which the pontiff might escape. The messenger Thaddeus 
carried it to London ; and Gardiner left Orvieto for Rome to 
confer with Campeggio. 

Clement was a man of penetrating mind, and although he 
knew as well as any how to deliver a clever speech, he was 

* In capu mortis pontificis, quod Deus ayertat. Burnet, Records, 
p. xxviii. 

f The thing which the king's highness and I more esteem than twenty 
papalities, Ibid, p, xxv. 



CLEMENT'S PERPLEXITY. 355 

irresolute and timid ; and accordingly the commission had 
not long been despatched before he repented. Full of dis- 
tress, he paced the ruined chambers of his old palace, and 
imagined he saw hanging over his head that terrible sword 
of Charles the Fifth, whose edge he had already felt. 
" Wretch that I am," said he ; " cruel wolves surround me ; 

they open their jaws to swallow me up.. I see none 

but enemies around me. At their head is the emperor 

What will he do? Alas! I have yielded that fatal 

commission which the general of the Spanish observance 
had enjoined me to refuse. Behind Charles come the 

Venetians, the Florentines, the Duke of Ferrara They 

have cast lots upon my vesture.* Next comes the 

king of France, who promises nothing, but looks on with 
folded arms ; or rather, what perfidy ! calls upon me at this 

critical moment to deprive Charles V. of his crown And 

last, but not least, Henry VIIL, the defender of the faith, 

indulges in frightful menaces against me The emperor 

desires to maintain the queen on the throne of England ; 

the latter, to put her away Would to God that Catherine 

were in her grave! But, alas! she lives...... to be the 

apple of discord dividing the two greatest monarchies, and 

the inevitable cause of the ruin of the popedom Wretched 

man that I am ! how cruel is my perplexity, and around 
me I can see nothing but horrible confusion." -j* 

* Novo foedere inito super vestem suam miserunt sortem. Strype, 
Records, i. p. 109. 

f His holiness findeth himself in a marvellous perplexity and con- 
fusion. Ibid. p. 108. 



FOX'S REPOBT TO HENKY AND ANNE. 



CHAPTER XL 

Fox's Report to Henry and Anne Wolsey's Impression He demands 
the Decretal One of the Cardinal's petty Manoeuvres He sets his 
Conscience at Rest Gardiner fails at Rome Wolsey's new Perfidy 
The King's Anger against the Pope Sir T. More predicts Religious 
Liberty -Immorality of Ultramontane Socialism Erasmus invited 
Wolsey's last Flight Energetic Efforts at Rome Clement grants all 
Wolsey triumphs Union of Rome and England. 

DURING this time Fox was making his way to England. 
On the 27th of April he reached Paris ; on the 2d of May he 
landed at Sandwich, and hastened to Greenwich, where he 
arrived the next day at five in the evening, just as Wolsey 
had left for London. Fox's arrival was an event of great im- 
portance. " Let him go to Lady Anne's apartments," said 
the king, " and wait for me there." Fox told Anne Boleyn 
of his and Gardiner's exertions, and the success of their mis- 
sion, at which she expressed her very great satisfaction. In- 
deed, more than a year had elapsed since her return to Eng- 
land, and she no longer resisted Henry's project. " Mistress 
Anne always called me Master Stephen," wrote Fox to Gar- 
diner, " her thoughts were so full of you." The king appeared 
and Anne withdrew. 

" Tell me as briefly as possible what you have done," said 
Henry. Fox placed, in the king's hands the pope's insigni- 
ficant letter, which he bade his almoner read ; then that from 
Staffileo, which was put on one side ; and, lastly, Gardiner's 
letter, which Henry took hastily and read himself. " The 
pope has promised us," said Fox, as he terminated his re- 
port, " to confirm the sentence of the divorce, as soon as it 
has been pronounced by the commissioners." " Excellent !" 
exclaimed Henry ; and then he ordered Anne to be called in. 
" Repeat before this lady," he said to Fox, " what you have 
just told me." The almoner did so. " The pope is convinced 



WOLSEY'S DISCONTENT. 857 

of the justice of your cause," he said in conclusion, " and the 
cardinal's letter has convinced him that my lady is worthy 
of the throne of England." " Make your report to Wolsey 
this very night," said the king. 

It was ten o'clock when the chief almoner reached the 
cardinal's palace ; he had gone to bed, but immediate orders 
were given that Fox should be conducted to his room. Be- 
ing a churchman, Wolsey could understand the pope's arti- 
fices better than Henry ; accordingly, as soon as he learnt 
that Fox had brought the commission only, he became 
alarmed at the task imposed upon him. " What a misfor- 
tune !" he exclaimed : " your commission is no better than 
Gambara's However, go and rest yourself; I will ex- 
amine these papers to-morrow." Fox withdrew in confusion. 
" It is not bad," said Wolsey the next day, " but the whole 
business still falls on me alone ! Never mind, I must wear 
a contented look, or else " In the afternoon he sum- 
moned into his closet Fox, Dr Bell, and Viscount Rochford: 
" Master Gardiner has surpassed himself," said the crafty 
supple cardinal ; " what a man ! what an inestimable trea- 
sure ! what a jewel in our kingdom !"* 
^Hc did not mean a word he was saying. Wolsey was 
dissatisfied with everything with the refusal of the decretal, 
and with the drawing up of the commission, as well as of the 
engagement (which arrived soon after in good condition, so 
far as the outside was concerned). But the king's ill hu- 
mour would infallibly recoil on Wolsey ; so, putting a good 
face on a bad matter, he ruminated in secret on the means 
of obtaining what had been refused him. " Write to Gar- 
diner," said he to Fox, " that everything makes me desire 
the pope's decretal the need of unburdening my conscience, 
of being able to reply to the calumniators who will attack 
my judgment,-}- and the thought of the accidents to which 
the life of man is exposed. Let his holiness, then, pronounce 
the divorce himself; we engage en our part to keep his reso- 

O non sestimandum thesanrnm margaritamque regni nostri. Strype, 
Records, i. p. 119. 

t Justissime obstrucre ora calumniantium et temere dissentientium. 
Ibid. p. 120, 



358 WOLSEY'S FRAUD. 

lution secret. But order Master Stephen to employ every 
kind of persuasion that his rhetoric can imagine." In case 
the pope should positively refuse the decretal, Wolsey required 
that at least Campeggio should share the responsibility of 
the divorce with him. 

This was not all : while reading the engagement, Wolsey 
discovered the loophole which had escaped Gardiner, and 
this is what he contrived : " The engagement which the 
pope has sent us," he wrote to Gardiner, " is drawn up in 
such terms that he can retract it at pleasure ; we must there- 
fore find some good way to obtain another. You may do it 
under this pretence. You will appear before his holiness 
with a dejected air, and tell him that the courier, to whom 
the conveyance of the said engagement w r as intrusted, fell 
into the water with his despatches, so that the rescripts were 
totally defaced and illegible ; that I have not dared deliver 
it into the king's hands, and unless his holiness will grant 
you a duplicate, some notable blame will be imputed unto 
you for not taking better care in its transmission. And, fur- 
ther, you will continue : I remember the expressions of the 
former document, and to save your holiness trouble, I will 
dictate them to your secretary. Then," added Wolsey, 
" while the secretary is writing, you will find means to in- 
troduce, without its being perceived, as many/a, pregnant, 
and available words as possible, to bind the pope and enlarge 
my powers, the politic handling of which the king's highness 
and I commit unto your good discretion."* 

Such was the expedient invented by Wolsey. The papal 
secretary, imagining he was making a fresh copy of the orig- 
inal document (which was, by the way, in perfect condition), 
was at the dictation of the ambassador to draw up another 
of a different tenor. The " politic handling " of the cardinal- 
legate, which was not very unlike forgery, throws a disgrace- 
ful light on the policy of the sixteenth century. 

Wolsey read this letter to the chief almoner ; and then, to 

set his conscience at rest, he added piously : " In an affair 

V such high importance, on which depends the glory or the 

ruin of the realm, my honour or my disgrace, the con- 

Burnet, Records, p. xxx. 



HIS HYPOCRISY. 359 

demnation of my soul or my everlasting merit, I will listen 
solely to the voice of my conscience,* and I shall act in such 
a manner as to be able to render an account to God without 
fear." 

Wolsey did more ; it seems that the boldness of his de- 
clarations reassured him with regard to the baseness of his 
works. Being at Greenwich on the following Sunday, he 
said to the king in the presence of Fox, Bell, "Wolman, and 
Tuke : " I am bound to your royal person more than any 
subject was ever bound to his prince. I am ready to sacri- 
fice my goods, my blood, my life for you But my obliga- 
tions towards God are greater still. For that cause, rather 
than act against his will, I would endure the extremes! evils.f 
I would suffer your royal indignation, and, if necessary, de- 
liver my body to the executioners that they might cut it in 
pieces." What could be the spirit then impelling Wolsey ? 
Was it blindness or impudence ? He may have been sincere 
in the words he addressed to Henry ; at the bottom of his 
heart he may have desired to set the pope above the king, 
and the church of Rome above the kingdom of England ; 
and this desire may have appeared to him a sublime virtue, 
such as would hide a multitude of sins. What the public 
conscience would have called treason was heroism to the 
Romish priest. This zeal for the papacy is sometimes met 
with in conjunction with the most flagrant immorality. If 
Wolsey deceived the pope, it was to save popery in the realm 
of England. Fox, Bell, Wolman, and Tuke listened to him 
with astonishment.:}: Henry, who thought he knew his man, 
received these holy declarations without alarm ; and the car- 
dinal, having thus eased his conscience, proceeded boldly in 
his iniquities. It seems, however, that the inward reproaches 
which he silenced in public, had their revenge in secret. 
One of his officers entering his closet shortly afterwards, 
presented a letter addressed to Campeggio for his signature. 
It ended thus : " I hope all things shall be done according to 
the will of God, the desire of the king, the quiet of the king- 

* Reclamante conscientia. Strype, Records, i. p. 124. 

t Extrema quaeque contra conscientiam suam. Ibid. p. 126. 

J To my great mervail and no less joy and comfort. Ibid. 



360 -WOLSEY BEGINS TO TREMBLE. 

dom, and to our honour with a good conscience" The car- 
dinal having read the letter, dashed out the four last words.* 
Conscience has a sting from which none can escape, not even 
a Wolsey. 

However, Gardiner lost no time in Italy. When he met 
Campeggio (to 'whom Henry VIII. had given a palace at 
Eome, and a bishopric in England), he entreated him to go 
to London and pronounce the divorce. This prelate, who was 
to be empowered in 1530 with authority to crush Protestan- 
tism in Germany, seemed bound to undertake a mission that 
would save Romanism in Britain. But proud of his position 
at Rome, where he acted as the pope's representative, he 
cared not for a charge that would undoubtedly draw upon 
him either Henry's hatred or the emperor's anger. He 
begged to be excused. The pope spoke in a similar tone. 
When he was informed of this, the terrible Tudor, beginning 
to believe that Clement desired to^ntangle him, as the hun- 
ter entangles the lion in his toils, gave vent to his anger on 
Tuke, Fox, and Gardiner, but particularly on Wolsey. Nor 
were reasons wanting for this explosion. The cardinal, per- 
ceiving that his hatred against Charles had carried him too 
far, pretended that it was without his orders that Clarencieux, 
bribed by France, had combined with the French ambassa- 
dor to declare war against the emperor ; and added that he 
would have the English king-at-arms put to death as he 
passed through Calais. This was an infallible means of 
preventing disagreeable revelations. But the herald, who 
had been forewarned, crossed by way of Boulogne, and, 
without the cardinal's knowledge, obtained an interview with 
Henry, before whom he placed the orders he had received 
from Wolsey in three consecutive letters. The king, aston- 
ished at his minister's impudence, exclaimed profanely: 
" Lord Jesu, the man in whom I had most confidence told 
me quite the contrary." He then summoned Wolsey before 
him, and reproached him severely for his falsehoods. The 
wretched man shook like a leaf. Henry appeared to pardon 
him, but the season of his favour had passed away. Hence- 
forward he kept the cardinal as one of those instruments we 
* Burnet's Ref. vol. i. p. 41. 



THE KING'S ANOER AGAINST CLEMENT. 361 

make use of for a time, and thdfc throw away when we have 
no further need of them. 

The king's anger against the pope far exceeded that 
against Wolsey ; he trembled from head to foot, rose from 
his seat, then sat down again, and vented his wrath in the 
most violent language : " What 1" he exclaimed, " I shall 
exhaust my political combinations, empty my treasury, make 

war upon my friends, consume my forces and for whom? 

for a heartless priest who, considering neither the exi- 
gencies of my honour, nor the peace of my conscience, nor 
the prosperity of my kingdom, nor the numerous benefits 
which I have lavished on him, refuses me a favour, which 
he ought, as the common father of the faithful, to grant even 

to an enemy Hypocrite! You cover yourself with the 

cloak of friendship, you flattef us by crafty practices,* but 
you give us only a bastard document, and you say like 
Pilate : It matters little to me if this king perishes, and all 
his kingdom with him ; take him and judge him according 

to your law ! I understand you you wish to entangle 

us in the briers,-]- to catch us in a trap, to lure us into a pit- 
fall But we have discovered the snare; we shall escape 

from your ambuscade, and brave your power." 

Such was the language then heard at the court of Eng- 
land, says an historian.^: The monks and priests began to 
grow alarmed, while the most enlightened minds already saw 
in the distance the first gleams of religious liberty. One 
day, at a time when Henry was proving himself a zealous 
follower of the Romish doctrines, Sir Thomas More was 
sitting in the midst of his family, when his son-in-law, 
Roper, now become a warm papist, exclaimed: "Happy 
kingdom of England, where no heretic dares show his face!" 
" That is true, son Roper," said More ; " we seem to sit now 
upon the mountains, treading the heretics under our feet like 
ants ; but I pray God that some of us do not live to see the 
day when we gladly would wish to be at league with them, 

By crafty means and under the face and visage of entire amity. 
Strype, i. p. 166. 

+ To involve and cast us so in th briers and fetters. Ibid. 

* Strype. 

* Q 



362 SIR T. MORE'S PROPHECY. 

to suffer them to have thei^churches quietly to themselves, 
so that they would be content to let us have ours peaceably 
to ourselves." Roper angrily replied :* " By my word, sir, 
that is very desperately spoken!" More, however, was in 
the right ; genius is sometimes a great diviner. The Refor- 
mation was on the point of inaugurating religious liberty, 
and by that means placing civil liberty on an immovable 
foundation. 

Henry himself grew wiser by degrees. He began to have 
doubts about the Roman hierarchy, and to ask himself, 
whether a priest-king, embarrassed in all the political com- 
plications of Europe, could be the head of the church of 
Jesus Christ. Pious individuals in his kingdom recognised 
in Scripture and in conscience a law superior to the law of 
Rome, and refused to sacrifice at the command of the 
church their moral convictions, sanctioned by the revelation 
of God. The hierarchical system, which claims to absorb 
man in the papacy, had oppressed the consciences of Chris- 
tians for centuries. When the Romish Church had required 
from such as Berengarius, John Huss, Savonarola, John 
Wesel, and Luther, the denial of their consciences enlight- 
ened by the word, that is to say, by the voice of God, it had 
shown most clearly how great is the immorality of ultra 
montane socialism. " If the Christian consents to this enor- 
mous demand of the hierarchy," said the most enlightened 
men ; " if he renounces his own notions of good and evil in 
favour of the clergy ; if he reserves not his right to obey God, 
who speaks to him in the Bible, rather than men, even if 
their agreement were universal ; if Henry VIII., for instance, 
should silence his conscience, which condemns his union with 
his brother's widow, to obey the clerical voice which ap- 
proves of it ; by that very act he renounces truth, duty, and 
even God himself." But we must add, that if the rights of 
conscience were beginning to be understood in England, it 
was not about such holy matters as these that the pope and 
Henry were contending. They were both intriguers both 
dissatisfied, the one desirous of love, the other of power. 

Be that as it may, a feeling of disgust for Rome then took 
* My uncle said in a rage. Here's Life, p. 132. 



ROMANISM AND CONSCIENCE. 363 

root in the king's heart, and nothing could afterwards eradi- 
cate it. He immediately made every exertion to attract 
Erasmus to London. Indeed, if Henry separated from the 
pope, his old friends, the humanists, must be his auxiliaries, 
and not the heretical doctors. But Erasmus, in a letter 
dated 1st June, alleged the weak state of his health, the 
robbers who infested the roads, the wars and rumours of 
wars then afloat. " Our destiny leads us," he said ; " let us 
yield to it."* It is a fortunate thing for England that Eras- 
mus was not its reformer. 

Wolsey noted this movement of his master's, and resolved 
to make a strenuous effort to reconcile Clement and Henry ; 
his own safety was at stake. He wrote to the pope, to 
Campeggio, to Da Casale, to all Italy. He declared that if he 
was ruined, the popedom would be ruined too, so far at least 
as England was concerned : " I would obtain the decretal bull 
with my own blood, if possible," -j- he added. " Assure the 
holy father on my life that no mortal eye shall see it." 
Finally, he ordered the chief almoner to write to Gardiner : 
" If Campeggio does not come, you shall never return to 
England ;"f an infallible means of stimulating the secre- 
tary's zeal. 

This was the last effort of Henry VIII. Bourbon and 
the prince of Orange had not employed more zeal a year 
before in scaling the walls of Rome. Wolsey's fire had in- 
flamed his agents ; they argued, entreated, stormed, and 
threatened. The alarmed cardinals and theologians, assem- 
bling at the pope's call, discussed the matter, mixing 
political interests with the affairs of the church. At last 
they understood what Wolsey now communicated to them. 
" Henry is the most energetic defender of the faith," they 
said. " It is only by acceding to his demand that we can 
preserve the kingdom of England to the popedom. The 
army of Charles is in full flight, and that of Francis 

* Fat is agimur, fatis cedendum. Erasm. Epp. p. 1032. 
f Ut vel proprio sanguine id vellemus posse a S. D. N. impetrare 
Burnet, Records, ii. p. 19. 

J Neither should Gardiner ever return. Strype, i. p. 167. 
Negotia ecclesiastica politicis rationibus iiiterpolantes. Sanders, p. 97 



364 CLEMENT GRANTS ALL THE BULLS. 

triumphs." The last of these arguments decided the ques- 
tion ; the pope suddenly felt a great sympathy for Wolsey 
and for the English church ; the emperor was beaten, there- 
fore he was wrong. Clement granted everything. 

First, Campeggio was desired to go to London. The 
pontiff knew that he might reckon on his intelligence and in- 
flexible adhesion to the interests of the hierarchy ; even the 
cardinal's gout was of use, for it might help to innumerable 
delays. Next, on the 8th of June, the pope, then at Viterbo, 
gave a new commission, by which he conferred on Wolsey 
and Campeggio the power to declare null and void the 
marriage between Henry and Catherine, with liberty for the 
king and queen to form new matrimonial ties.* A few days 
later he signed the famous decretal by which he himself 
annulled the marriage between Henry and Catherine ; but 
instead of intrusting it to Gardiner, he gave it to Campeggio, 
with orders not to let it go out of his hands. Clement was 
not sure of the course of events : if Charles should decidedly 
lose his power, the bull would be published in the face of 
Christendom; if he should recover it, the bull would be 
burnt.-}- In fact, the flames did actually consume some time 
afterwards this decree which Clement had wetted with his 
tears as he put his name to it. Finally, on the 23d of July, 
the pope signed a valid engagement, by which he declared 
beforehand that all retractation of these acts should be null 
and void.\ Campeggio and Gardiner departed. Charles's 
defeat was as complete at Rome as at Naples ; the justice of 
his cause had vanished with his army. 

Nothing, therefore, was wanting to Henry's desires. He 
had Campeggio, the commission, the decretal bull of divorce 
signed by the pope, and the engagement giving an irrevo- 
cable value to all these acts. Wolsey was conqueror, the 

conqueror of Clement! He had often wished to mount 

the restive courser of the popedom and to guide it at his 

* Ad alia vota commigrandi. Herbert, p. 262. 

t State Papers, vii. p. 78. Dr Lingard acknowledges the existence 
of this bull and the order to burn it. 

Si (quod absit) aliquid contra prsemissa faciamus, illud pro casso, 
Irrito, inani et vacno omnino haberi volumus. Herbert, p. 250. 



JOY IN ENGLAND. 365 

will, but each time the unruly steed had thrown him from 
the saddle. Now he was firm in his seat, and held the horse 
in hand. Thanks to Charles's reverses, he was master 
at Rome. The popedom, whether it was pleased or not, 
must take the road he had chosen, and before which it had 
so long recoiled. The king's joy was unbounded, and 
equalled only by Wolsey's. The cardinal, in the fulness of 
his heart, wishing to show his gratitude to the officers of the 
Roman court, made them presents of carpets, horses., and 
vessels of gold.* All near Henry felt the effects of his good 
humour. Anne smiled ; the court indulged in amusements ; 
the great affair was about to be accomplished ; the New 
Testament to be delivered to the flames. The union be- 
tween England and the popedom appeared confirmed for 
ever, and the victory which Rome seemed about to gain in 
the British isles might secure her triumph in the west. Vain 
omens! far different were the events in the womb of the 
future. 

* Nam illi, aulaea, vas aureum ant equi maxime probentur. Burcet, 
Records, i. p. x v. 



BOOK XX. 



THE TWO DIVORCES 



CHAPTER I. 

Progress of the Reformation The two Divorces Entreaties to Anne 
Boleyn The Letters in the Vatican Henry to Anne Henry's 
Second Letter Third Fourth Wolsey's Alarm His fruitless Pro- 
ceedings He turns The Sweating Sickness Henry's Fears New 
Letters to Anne Anne falls sick ; her Peace Henry writes to her 
Wolsey's Terror Campeggio does not arrive All dissemble at 
Court. 

WHILE England seemed binding herself to the court of 
Rome, the general course of the church and of the world 
gave stronger presage every day of the approaching emanci- 
pation of Christendom. The respect which for so many 
centuries had hedged in the Roman pontiff was everywhere 
shaken ; the Reform, already firmly established in several 
states of Germany and Switzerland, was extending in 
France, the Low Countries, and Hungary, and beginning in 
Sweden, Denmark, and Scotland. The South of Europe 
appeared indeed submissive to the Romish church; but 
Spain, at heart, cared little for the pontifical infallibility; 
and even Italy began to inquire whether the papal dominion 
was not an obstacle to her prosperity. England, notwith- 
standing appearances, was also going to throw off the yoke 
of the bishops of the Tiber, and many faithful voices might 
already be heard demanding that the word of God should 
be acknowledged the supreme authority in the church. 



IMPORTANCE OF THE STRUGGLE WITH ROME. 367 

The conquest of Christian Britain by the papacy occupied 
all the seventh century, as we have seen. The sixteenth 
was the counterpart of the seventh. The struggle which 
England then had to sustain, in order to free herself from 
the power that had enslaved her during nine hundred years, 
was full of sudden changes ; like those of the times of 
Augustine and Oswy. This struggle indeed took place in 
each of the countries where the church was reformed ; but 
nowhere can it be traced in all its diverse phases so dis- 
tinctly as in Great Britain. The positive work of the Re- 
formation that which consisted in recovering the truth and 
life so long lost was nearly the same everywhere ; but as 
regards the negative work the struggle with the popedom 
we might almost say that other nations committed to 
England the task by which they were all to profit. An 
unenlightened piety may perhaps look upon the relations of 
the court of London with the court of Rome, at the period 
of the Reformation, as void of interest to the faith ; but 
history will not think the same. It has been too often for- 
gotten that the main point in this contest was not the 
divorce (which was only the occasion), but the contest itself 
and its important consequences. The divorce of Henry 
Tudor and Catherine of Aragon is a secondary event ; but 
the divorce of England and the popedom is a primary event, 
one of the great evolutions of history, a creative act (so to 
speak) which still exercises a normal influence over the des- 
tinies of mankind. And accordingly everything connected 
with it is full of instruction for us. Already a great num- 
ber of pious men had attached themselves to the authority 
of God ; but the king, and with him that part of the nation, 
strangers to the evangelical faith, clung to Rome, which 
Henry had so valiantly defended. The word of God had 
spiritually separated England from the papacy; the great 
matter separated it materially. There is a close relationship 
between these two divorces, which gives extreme import- 
ance to the process between Henry and Catherine. When 
a great revolution is to be effected in the bosom of a people 
(we have the Reformation particularly in view), God in- 
structs the minority by the Holy Scriptures, and the majority 



368 ANNE'S HESITATION. 

by the dispensations of the divine government. Facts 
undertake to push forward those whom the more spiritual 
voice of the word leaves behind. England, profiting by this 
great teaching of facts, 'has thought it her duty ever since 
to avoid all contact with a power that had deceived her; 
she has thought that popery could not have the dominion 
over a people without infringing on its vitality, and that it 
was only by emancipating themselves from this priestly 
dictatorship that modern nations could advance safely in 
the paths of liberty, order, and greatness. 

For more than a year, as Henry's complaints testify, 
Anne continued deaf to his homage. The despairing king 
saw that he must set other springs to work, and taking 
Lord Rochford aside, he unfolded his plans to him. The 
ambitious father promised to do all in his power to influence 
his daughter. " The divorce is a settled thing," he said to 
her ; " you have no control over it. The only question is, 
whether it shall be you or another who -shall give an heir 
to the crown. Bear in mind that terrible revolutions 
threaten England if the king has no son." Thus did 
everything combine to weaken Anne's resolution. The 
voice of her father, the interests of her country, the king's 
love, and doubtless some secret ambition, influenced her to 
grasp the proffered sceptre. These thoughts haunted her 
in society, in solitude, and even in her dreams. At one 
time she imagined herself on the throne, distributing to the 
people her charities and the word of God ; at another, in 
some obscure exile, leading a useless life, in tears and igno- 
miny. When, in the sports of her imagination, the crown 
of England appeared all glittering before her, she at first 
rejected it; but afterwards that regal ornament seemed so 
beautiful, and the power it conferred so enviable, that she 
repelled it less energetically. Anne still refused, however, 
to give the so ardently solicited assent. 

Henry, vexed by her hesitation, wrote to her frequently, 
and almost always in French. As the court of Rome 
makes use of these letters, which are kept in the Vatican, 
to abuse the Reformation, we think it our duty to quote 
them. The theft committed by a cardinal has preserved 



UEXRY'S FIRST LETTER. 369 

them for us ; and we shall see that, far from supporting the 
calumnies that have been spread abroad, they tend, on the 
contrary, to refute them. We are far from approving their 
contents as a whole; but we cannot deny to the young 
lady, to whom they are addressed the possession of noble 
and generous sentiments. 

Henry, unable to support the anguish caused by Anne's 
refusal, wrote to her, as it is generally supposed, in May 
1528 :* 

" By revolving in my mind the contents of your last let- 
ters, I have put myself into great agony, not knowing how 
to interpret them, whether to my disadvantage, as I under- 
stand some passages, or not, as I conclude from others. I 
beseech you earnestly to let me know your real mind as to 
the love between us two. It is needful for me to obtain this 
answer of you, having been for a whole year wounded 
with the dart of .love, and not yet assured whether I shall 
succeed in finding a place in your heart and affection. This 
uncertainty has hindered me of late from declaring you my 
mistress, lest it should prove that you only entertain for me 
an ordinary regard. But if you please to do the duty of a 
true and loyal mistress, I promise you that not only the 
name shall be given to you, but also that I will take you for 
my mistress, casting off all others that are in competition 
with you, out of my thoughts and affection, and serving you 
only. I beg you to give an entire answer to this my rude 
letter, that I may know on what and how far I may depend. 
But if it does not please you to answer me in writing, let 
me know some place where I may have it by word of mouth, 
and I will go thither with all my heart. No more for fear of 
tiring you. Written by the hand of him who would willingly 
remain yours, " H. REX." 

Such were the affectionate, and we may add (if we think 
of the time and the man) the respectful terms employed by 

Vatican Letters. Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 114. The date in the 
text is that assigned by the editor ; we are inclined to place it somewhat 
earlier. 

Q2 



370 HENRY 8 SECOND LETTER. 

Henry in writing to Anne Boleyn. The latter, without 
making any promises, betrayed some little affection for the 
king, and added to her reply an emblematical jewel, repre- 
senting a " solitary damsel in a boat tossed by the tempest," 
wishing thus to make the prince understand the dangers to 
which his love exposed her. Henry was ravished, and im- 
mediately replied : 

" For a present so valuable, that nothing could be more 
(considering the whole of it), I return you my most hearty 
thanks, not only on account of the costly diamond, and the 
ship in which the solitary damsel is tossed about, but chiefly 
for the fine interpretation, and the too humble submission 
which your goodness hath made to me. Your favour I will 
always seek to preserve, and this is my firm intention and 
hope, according to the matter, aut illic aut nullibi. 

" The demonstrations of your affections are such, the fine 
thoughts of your letter so cordially expressed, that they 
oblige me for ever to honour, love, and serve you sincerely. 
I beseech you to continue in the same firm and constant pur- 
pose, and assuring you that, on my part, I will not only 
make you a suitable return, but outdo you, so great is the 
loyalty of the heart that desires to please you. I desire, 
also, that if, at any time before this, I have in any way 
offended you, that you would give me the same absolution 
that you ask, assuring you, that hereafter my heart shall be 
dedicated to you alone. I wish my person were so too. God 
can do it, if he pleases, to whom I pray once a-day for that 
end, hoping that at length my prayers will be heard. I wish 
the time may be short, but I shall think it long till we see 
one another. Written by the hand of that secretary, who in 
heart, body, and will, is 

" Your loyal and most faithful Servant, 

H. T. REX."* 

* Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 1 15. After the signature comes the f&llowing 
doyice : 

(V) 

Nulle autre que \ A B ne cherche H.T. 



HENRY'S THIRD AND FOURTH 1 LETTERS. 371 

Henry was a passionate lover, and history is not called 
upon to vindicate that cruel prince ; but in the preceding 
letter we cannot discover the language of a seducer. It is 
impossible to imagine the king praying to God once a-day 
for anything but a lawful union. These daily prayers seem 
to present the matter in a different light from that which 
Romanist writers have imagined. 

Henry thought himself more advanced than he really was. 
Anne then shrank back ; embarrassed by the position she 
held at court, she begged for one less elevated. The king 
submitted, although very vexed at first : 



" Nevertheless that it belongeth not to a gentleman," he 
wrote to her, " to put his mistress in the situation of a ser- 
vant, yet, by following your wishes, I would willingly con- 
cede it, if by that means you are less uncomfortable in the 
place you shall choose than in that where you have been 
placed by me. I thank you most cordially that you are 
pleased still to bear me in your remembrance. 

" H. T." 

Anne, having retired in May to Hever castle, her father's 
residence, the king wrote to her as follows : 

" My Mistress and my Friend, 

" My heart and I surrender ourselves into your hands, and 
we supplicate to be commended to your good graces, and 
that by absence your affections may not be diminished to 
us. For that would be to augment our pain, which would 
be a great pity, since absence gives enough, and more than 
I ever thought could be felt. This brings to my mind a fact 
in astronomy, which is, that the longer the days are, the 
farther oft* is the sun, and yet the more scorching is his heat. 
Thus is it with our love ; absence has placed distance be- 
tween us, nevertheless fervour increases, at least on my part. 
I hope the same from you, assuring you that in my case 
the anguish of absence is so great that it would be in- 
tolerable were it not for the firm hope I have of your indis- 



372 ANNE GIVES HER CONSENT. 

soluble affection towards me. In order to remind you of it, 
and because I cannot in person be in your presence, I send 
you the thing which comes nearest that is possible, that is 
to say, my picture, and the whole device, which you already 
know of,* set in bracelets ; wishing myself in their place 
when it pleases you. This is from the hand of 
" Your Servant and Friend, 

" H. T. REX." 

Pressed by her father, her uncles, and by Henry, Anne's 
firmness was shaken. That crown, rejected by Renee and 
by Margaret, dazzled the young Englishwoman ; every day 
she found some new charm in it ; and gradually familiariz- 
ing herself with her new future, she said at last : " If the 
king becomes free, I shall be willing to marry him." This 
was a great fault ; but Henry was at the height of joy. 

The courtiers watched with observant eyes these develop- 
ments of the king's affection, and were already preparing the 
homage which they proposed to lay at Anne Boleyn's feet. 
But there was one man at court whom Henry's resolution 
filled with sorrow ; this was Wolsey. He had been the first 
to suggest to the king the idea of separating from Catherine; 
but if Anne is to succeed her, there must be no divorce. He 
had first alienated Catherine's party ; he was now going to 
irritate that of the Boleyns; accordingly he began to fear 
that whatever might be the issue of this affair, it would cause 
his ruin. He took frequent walks in his park at Hampton 
Court, accompanied by the French ambassador, the confidant 
of his sorrows : " I would willingly lose one of my fingers," 
he said, " if I could only have two hours' conversation with 
the king of France." At another time, fancying all England 
was pursuing him, he said with alarm, " The king my mas- 
ter and all his subjects will cry murder against me ; they 
will fall upon me more fiercely than on a Turk, and all Chris- 
tendom will rise against me!" The next day Wolsey, to 
gain the French ambassador, gave him a long history of 
what he had done for France against the wishes of all Eng- 

* Doubtless the out illic aut nullibi For this letter see the Pam- 
phleteer, No. 42, p. 346. 



WOLSEVs GRIEF. 373 

land : " I need much dexterity in my afUirs," he added, " and 
must use a terrible alchymy"* But alchymy could not save 
him. Rarely has so much anguish been veiled beneath such 
grandeur. Du Bellay was moved with pity at the sight of 
the unhappy man's sufferings. " When he gives way," he 
wrote to Montmorency, " it lasts a day together ; he is con- 
tinually sighing. You have never seen a man in such anguish 
of mind."f 

In truth Wolsey's reason was tottering. That fatal idea 
of the divorce was the cause of all his woes, and to be able 
to recall it, he would have given, not a finger only, but an 
arm, and perhaps more. It was too late ; Henry had started 
his car down the steep, and whoever attempted to stop it 
would have been crushed beneath its wheels. However, the 
cardinal tried to obtain something. Francis I. had inter- 
cepted a letter from Charles V. in which the emperor spoke 
of the divorce as likely to raise the English nation in revolt 
Wolsey caused this letter to be read to the king, in the hope 
that it would excite his serious apprehensions ; but Henry 
only/roiened, and Du Bellay, to whom the monarch ascribed 
the report on these troubles foreboded by Charles, received 
" a gentle lash." J: This was the sole result of the manoeuvre. 

Wolsey now resolved to broach this important subject 
in a straightforward manner. The step might prove his ruin; 
but if he succeeded he was &aved and the popedom with him. 
Accordingly, one day (shortly before the sweating sickness 
broke out, says Du Bellay, probably in June 1528) Wolsey 
openly prayed the king to renounce his design ; his own re- 
putation, he told him, the prosperity of England, the peace 
of Europe, the safety of the church, all required it ; besides 
the pope would never grant the divorce. While the cardinal 
was speaking, Henry's face grew black ; and before he had 
concluded the king's anger broke out. " The king used 
terrible words," said Du Bellay. He would have given a 
thousand Wolseys for one Anne Boleyn. " No other than 

* Une terrible Alquemie. Le Grand, Preures, p. 157. 
t 26th April, 1528. Ibid. p. 93. 

* Qitelque petit coup de fouet. 24th May, 1528. Da Bellay to Mont- 
morency. Le Graid, Preuves, p. 102. 



374 HE COURTS ANNE BOLEYN. 

God shall take her from me " was his most decided reso- 
lution. 

"Wolsey, now no longer doubting of his disgrace, began to 
take his measures accordingly. He commenced building in 
several places, in order to win the affections of the common 
people ; he took great care of his bishoprics, in order that they 
might ensure him an easy retreat; he was affable to the 
courtiers ; and thus covered the earth with flowers to deaden 
his fall. Then he would sigh as if he were disgusted with 
honours, and would celebrate the charms of solitude.* He 
did more than this. Seeing plainly that the best way of 
recovering the kiug's favour would be to conciliate Anne 
Boleyn, he made her the most handsome presents,-}- and 
assured her that all his efforts would nqw be directed to raise 
her to the throne of England. Anne, believing these declar- 
ations, replied, that she would help him in her turn, " As 
long as any breath was in her body." J Even Henry had no 
doubt that the cardinal had profited by his lesson. 

Thus were all parties restless and uneasy Henry desiring 
to marry Lady Anne, the courtiers to get rid of Wolsey, and 
the latter to remain in power when a serious event appeared 
to put every one in harmony with his neighbour. About 
the middle of June, the terrible sweating sickness (sudor 
anglicus] broke out in England. The citizens of London, 
" thick as flies," said Du Bellay, suddenly feeling pains in 
the head and heart, rushed from the streets or shops to their 
chambers, began to sweat, and took to their beds. The dis- 
ease made frightful and rapid progress, a burning heat 
pteyed on their limbs; if they chanced to uncover them- 
selves, the perspiration ceased, delirium came on, and in four 
hours the victim was dead and " stiff as a wall," || says the 
French ambassador. Every family was in mourning. Sir 
Thomas More^ kneeling by his daughter's bedside, burst into 
tears, and called upon God to save his beloved Margaret.^] 

* 20th August 1528. Du Bellay to Montmorency Le Grand, Preuves, 
p. 165. f Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 150. J Ibid. 

Dru comme mouches. Le Grand, Preuves, p 38. 
|| Raide comme un pan de mur. Ibid. 
^ More's Life, p. 136. 



THE SWEATING SICKNESS. 375 

Wolsey, who was at Hampton Court, suspecting nothing 
amiss, arrived in London as usual to preside in the Court of 
Chancery; but he ordered his horses to be saddled again 
immediately and rode back. In four days, 2000 persons 
died in London. 

The court was at first safe from the contagion ; but on the 
fourth day one of Anne Boleyn's ladies was attacked ; it was 
as if a thunderbolt had fallen on the palace. The king re- 
moved with all haste, and staid at a place twelve miles off, 
for he was not prepared to die. He ordered Anne to return 
to her father, invited the queen to join him, and took up his 
residence at Waltham. His real conscience awoke only in 
the presence of death. Four of his attendants and a friar, 
Anne's confessor, as it would appear,* falling ill, the king 
departed for Hunsdon. He had been there two days only 
when Powis, Carew, Carton, and others of his court, were 
carried off in two or three hours. Henry had met an enemy 
whom he could not vanquish. He quitted the place attacked 
by the disease ; he removed to another quarter ; and when 
the sickness laid hold of any of his attendants in his new 
retreat, he again left that for a new asylum. Terror froze 
his blood ; he wandered about pursued by that terrible scythe 
whose sweep might perhaps reach him ; he cut off all com- 
munication, even with his servants ; shut himself up in a 
room at the top of an isolated tower; ate all alone, and 
would see no one but his physician ;f he prayed, fasted, con- 
fessed, became reconciled with the queen; took the sacra- 
ment every Sunday and feast-day ; received his Maker, $ to 
use the words of a gentleman of his chamber ; and the queen 
and Wolsey did the same. Nor was that all : his councillor, 
Sir Brian Tuke, was sick in Essex ; but that mattered not ; 
the king ordered him to come to him, even in his litter ; and 
on the 20th of June, Henry after hearing three masses (he 
had never done so much before in one day) said to Tuke : 

* Votre pere maitre Jesonere est tombd malade. Henry to Anne. 
Pamphleteer, No. 42, p. 347. 

t With his physician in a chamber within a tower to sup apart. State 
Papers, i. p. 296. 

J Ibid. p. 290 



876 HENRY'S TERROR HIS LETTER TO ANNE. 

" I want you to write my will.'" He was not the only one 
who took that precaution. " There were a hundred thousand 
made," says Du Bellay. 

During this time, Anne in her retirement at Hever was 
calm and collected; she prayed much, particularly for the 
king and for Wolsey.* But Henry, far less submissive, was 
very anxious. " The uneasiness my doubts about your 
health gave me," he wrote to her, " disturbed and frightened 
me exceedingly ; but now, since you have as yet felt nothing, 

I hope it is with you as it is with us I beg you, my 

entirely beloved, not to frighten yourself, or be too uneasy at 
our absence, for wherever I am, I am yours. And yet we 
must sometimes submit to our misfortunes, for whoever will 
struggle against fate, is generally but so much the farther 
from gaining his end. Wherefore, comfort yourself and 
take courage, and make this misfortune as easy to you as 
you can."-]- 

As he received no news, Henry's uneasiness increased ; he 
sent to Anne a messenger and a letter : " To acquit myself 
of the duty of a true servant, I send you this letter, beseech- 
ing you to apprize me of your welfare, whiqh I pray may 
continue as long as I desire mine own." 

Henry's fears were well founded ; the malady became more 
severe ; in four hours eighteen persons died at the archbishop 
of Canterbury's ; Anne Boleyn herself and her brother also 
caught the infection. The king was exceedingly agitated ; 
Anne alone appeared calm ; the strength of her character 
raised her above exaggerated fears ; but her enemies ascribed 
her calmness to other motives. " Her ambition is stronger 
than death," they said. " The king, queen, and cardinal 

tremble for their lives, but she she would die content if 

she died a queen." Henry once more changed his residence. 
All the gentlemen of his privy-chamber were attacked, with 
one exception ; " he remained alone, keeping himself apart," 
says Du Bellay, and confessed every day. He wrote again 
to Anne, sending her his physician, Dr Butts : J " The most 

* I thank our Lord that them that I desired and prayed for are escaped, 
and that is the king's grace and you. Anne to Wolsey. Pamphleteer 
No. 43, p. 150. t Ibid. N . 42, p. 347. J Ibid. No. 43, p. 120. 



WOLSEY'S TEKROHS. 377 

displeasing news that could occur came to me suddenly at 
night. On three accounts I must lament it. One, to hear 
of the illness of my mistress, whom I esteem more than all 
the world, and whose health I desire as I do my own. I 
would willingly bear half of what you suffer to cure you. 
The second, from the fear that I shall have to endure my 
wearisome absence much longer, which has hitherto given 
me all the vexation that was possible; and when gloomy 
thoughts fill my mind, then I pray God to remove far from 
me such troublesome and rebellious ideas. The third, be- 
cause my physician, in whom I have most confidence, is 
absent. Yet, from the want of him, I send you my second, 
and hope that he will soon make you well. J shall then 
love him more than ever. I beseech you to be guided by 
his advice in your illness. By your doing this, I hope soon 
to see you again, which will be to me a greater comfort than 
all the precious jewels in the world." 

The pestilence soon broke out with more violence around 
Henry ; he fled in alarm to Hatfield, taking with him only 
the gentlemen of his chamber ; he next quitted this place 
for Tittenhanger, a house belonging to Wolsey, whence he 
commanded general processions throughout the kingdom in 
order to avert this scourge of God.* At the same time he 
wrote to Wolsey : " As soon as any one falls ill in the place 
where you are, fly to another ; and go thus from place to 
place." The poor cardinal was still more alarmed than 
Henry. As soon as he felt the slightest perspiration, he 
fancied himself a dead man. " I entreat your highness," he 
wrote trembling to the king on the 5th of July, " to show 
yourself full of pity for my soul ; these are perhaps the last 

words I shall address to you The whole world will see 

by my last testament that you have not bestowed your 
favour upon an ungrateful man." The king, perceiving that 
"VVoIscy's mind was affected, bade him " put apart fear and 
fantasies," { and wear a cheerful humour in the midst of 
death. 

. At last the sickness began to diminish, and immediately 
the desire to see Anne revived in Henry's bosom. On the 

State Papers, i. p. 308. f Ibid.?. 314. 

VOL. V. 17 



378 THE LEGATE'S DELAY HISSIMLLATION AT COURT. 

18th of August she re -appeared at court, and all the king'? 
thoughts were now bent on the divorce. 

But this business seemed to proceed in inverse ratio to his 
desires. There was no news of Campeggio ; was he lost in 
the Alps or at sea? Did his gout detain him in some vil- 
lage, or was the announcement of his departure only a feint? 
Anne Boleyn herself was uneasy, for she attached great im- 
portance to Campeggio's coming. If the church annulled 
the king's first marriage, Anne, seeing the principal obstacle 
removed, thought she might accept Henry's hand. She 
therefore wrote to Wolsey : " I long to hear from you news 
of the legate, for I do hope (an' they come from you) they 
shall be very good." The king added in a postscript : " The 
not hearing of the legate's arrival in France causelh us 
somewhat to muse. Notwithstanding we trust by your 
diligence and vigilancy (with the assistance of Almighty 
God) shortly to be eased out of that trouble."* 

But still there was no news. While waiting for the long- 
desired ambassador, every one at the English court played 
his part as well as he could. Anne, whether from conscience, 
prudence, or modesty, refused the honours which the king 
would have showered upon her, and never approached 
Catherine but with marks of profound respect. "Wolsey had 
the look of desiring the divorce, while in reality he dreaded 
it, as fated to cause his ruin and that of the popedom. 
Henry strove to conceal the motives which impelled him to 
separate from the queen ; to the bishops, he spoke of his 
conscience, to the nobility of an heir, and to all of the sad 
obligation which compelled him to put away so justly be- 
loved a princess. In the meanwhile, he seemed to live on 
the best terms with her, from what Du Bellay says.-j- But 
Catherine was the one who best dissembled her sentiments; 
she lived with the king as during their happiest days, treated 
Anne with every kindness, adopted an elegant costume, 
encouraged music and dancing in her apartments, often ap- 
peared in public, and seemed desirous ?f captivating by her 

* Pamphleteer, No. 48, p. 149. 

t 16th October 1.528. Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuvea, 
p. 170. 



COVERDALE AND INSPIRATION. 379 

gracious smiles the good- will of England. This was a 
mournful comedy, destined to end in tragedy full of tears 
and agony. 



CHAPTER H. 

Corerdale and Inspiration He undertakes to translate the Scriptures 
His Joy and Spiritual Songs Tyball and the Laymen Coverdalo 
preaches at Bumpstead Revival at Colchester Incomplete Societies 
and the New Testament Persecution Monmouth arrested and 
released. 



WHILE these scenes were acting in the royal palaces, far dif- 
ferent discussions were going on among the people. After 
having dwelt for some time on the agitations of the court, 
we gladly return to the lowly disciples of the divine word. 
The Reformation of England (and this is its characteristic) 
brings before us by turns the king upon his throne, and the 
laborious artisan in his humble cottage ; and between these 
two extremes we meet with the doctor in his college, and the 
priest in his pulpit. 

Among the young men trained at Cambridge under 
Barnes's instruction, and who had aided him at the time of 
his trial, was Miles Coverdale, afterwards bishop of Exeter, 
a man distinguished by his zeal for the gospel of Jesus 
Christ. Some time after the prior's fall, on Easter Eve, 
1527, Coverdale and Cromwell met at the house of Sir 
Thomas More, when the former exhorted the Cambridge 
student to apply himself to the study of sacred learning.* 
The lapse of his unhappy master had alarmed Coverdale, 
and he felt the necessity of withdrawing from that outward 
activity which had proved so fatal to Barnes. He therefore 
turned to the Scriptures, read them again and again, and 
perceived, like Tyndale, that the reformation of the church 
must be effected by the word of God. The inspiration of 

* Coverdale's Remain* (Parker Society), p. 490. The au- 
thority for this statement is a letter from Coverdale to Crom- 
well, which the editor of the ''Remains" assigns to the year 
1527. I am inclined to think it was written in 1528; but any 
way there is a difficulty with the date. 



380 MILES COVKRDALE. 

that word, the only foundation of its sovereign authority, 
had struck Coverdale. " Wherever the Scripture is known 
it reformeth all things. And why? Because it is given by 
the inspiration of God."* This fundamental principle of the 
Reformation in England must, in every age, be that of the 
church. 

Coverdale found happiness in his studies : " Now," he said, 
" I begin to taste of Holy Scriptures ! Now, honour be to 
God ! I am set to the most sweet smell of holy letters."-{- 
lie did not stop there, but thought it his duty to attempt in 
England the work which Tyndale was prosecuting in Ger- 
many. The Bible was so important in the eyes of these 
Christians, that two translations were undertaken simul- 
taneously. " Why should other nations," said Coverdale, 
" be more plenteously provided for with the Scriptures in 
their mother-tongue than we?"| " Beware of translating 
the Bible !" exclaimed the partisans of the schoolmen ; " your 
labour will only make divisions in the faith and in the peo- 
ple of God." " God has now given his church," replied 
Coverdale, " the gifts of translating and of printing; we 
must improve them." And if any friends spoke of Tyndale's 
translation, he answered : " Do not you know that when 
many are starting together, every one doth his best to be 
nighest the mark?"|| " But Scripture ought to exist in 
Latin only," objected the priests. " No," replied Coverdale 
again, " the Holy Ghost is as much the author of it in the 

Hebrew, Greek, French, Dutch, and English, as in Latin 

The word of God is of like authority, in what language so- 
ever the Holy Ghost speaketh it." ^[ This does not mean 
that translations of Holy Scripture are inspired, but that the 
word of God, faithfully translated, always possesses a divino 
authority. 

Coverdale determined therefore to translate the Bible, and, 
to procure the necessary books, he wrote to Cromwell, who, 
during his travels, had made a collection of these precious 
writings. " Nothing in the world I desire but books," he 
wrote ; " like Jacob, you have drunk of the dew of heaven 

* Coverdale's Remains, p. 10 t Ibid. p. 490. 

$ Ibid. p. 12 Ibid. || Ibid. p. 14. ff Ibid. p. 26. 



DESIRES TO TRANSLATE THE BIBLE. 381 

I ask to drink of your waters."* Cromwell did not refuse 
Coverdale his treasures. " Since the Holy Ghost moves you 
to bear the cost of this work," exclaimed the latter, " God 
gives me boldness to labour in the same."f He commenced 
without delay, saying : " Whosoever believeth not the Scrip- 
ture, believeth not Christ; and whoso refuseth it, refuseth 
God also."J Such were the foundations of the reformed 
church in England. 

Coverdale did not undertake to translate the Scriptures as 
a mere literary task: the Spirit which had inspired him 
spoke to his heart : and tasting their life-giving promises, he 
expressed his happiness in pious songs : 

Be glad now, all ye christen men, 

And let us rejoyce unfaynedly. 
The kindnesse cannot be written with penne, 

That we have receaved of God's mercy ; 
Whose love towarde us hath never ende : 
He hath done for us as a frende ; 

Now let us thanke him hartely. 

These lovynge wordes he spake to me : 

I wyll delyver thy soule from payne ; 
I am desposed to do for thee, 

And to myne owne selfe thee to retayne. 
Thou shalt be with me, for thou art myne ; 
And I with thee, for I am thyne ; 

Such is my love, I can not layne. 

They wyll shed out my precyous bloude, 

And take away my lyfe also ; 
Which 1 wyll suffre all for thy good : 

Beleve this sure, where ever thou go. 
For I wijl yet ryse up agayne ; 
Thy synnes I beare, though it be payne, 

To make thee safe and free from wo. 

Coverdale did not remain long in the solitude he desirccL 
The study of the Bible, which had attracted him to it, soon 
drew him out of it. A revival was going on in Essex ; John 
Tyball, an inhabitant of Bumpstead, having learnt to find in 
Jesus Christ the true bread from heaven, did not stop there. 

* De tuo ipso torrente rnaxime potare exopto. Coverdale's Remains, 
p. 491. f Ibid. p. 10. + Ibid. p. 19. 



382 TYBALL AT BUMPSTEAD. 

One day as he was reading the first epistle to the Corinthians, 
these words : " eat of this bread" and " drink of this cup" 
repeated four times within a few verses, convinced him that 
there was no transubstantiation. " A priest has no power 
to create the body of the Lord," said he : " Christ truly i.r 
present in the Eucharist, but he is there only fir Mm that 
believcth, and by a spiritual presence and action only." Ty- 
ball, disgusted with the Romish clergy and worship, and 
convinced that Christians are called to a universal priest- 
hood, soon thought that men could do without a special 
ministry, and without denying the offices mentioned in Scrip- 
ture, as some Christians have done since, he attached no 
importance to them. " Priesthood is not necessary,"* he 
said : " every layman may administer the sacraments as well 
as a priest." The minister of Bumpstead, one Richard 
Foxe, and next a greyfriar of Colchester named Meadow, 
were successively converted by Tyball's energetic preaching. 

Coverdale, who was living not far from these parts, having 
heard speak of this religious revival, came to Bumpstead, 
and went into the pulpit in the spring of 1528, to pro- 
claim the treasures contained in Scripture. Among his 
hearers was an Augustine monk, named Topley, who was 
supplying Foxe's place during his absence. This monk, 
while staying at the parsonage, had found a copy of Wick- 
liffe's Wicket, which he read eagerly. His conscience was 
wounded by it, and all seemed to totter about him.f He 
had gone to church full of doubt, and after divine service he 
waited upon the preacher, exclaiming : " my sins, my sins!" 
" Confess yourself to God," said Coverdale, " and not to a 
priest. God accepteth the confession which cometh from the 
heart, and blotteth out all your sins.":}: The monk believed 
in the forgiveness of God, and became a zealous evangelist 
for the surrounding country. 

The divine word had hardly lighted one torch, before that 
kindled another. At Colchester, in the same county, a 
worthy man named Pykas, had received a copy of the Epistles 

* Strype, Records, i. p. 51, 

+ I felt in my conscience a great wavering. Anderson's Annals of thj 
Bible, vol. i. p. 185. J Coverdale's Remains, p. 481. 



EMMTUALirY OF PYKAS. 383 

of Saint Paul from his mother, with this advice " My son, 
live according to these writings, and not according To the 
teaching of the clergy." Some time after, Pykas having 
bought -a New Testament, and "read it thoroughly many 
times,"* a total change took place in him. " We must be 
baptized by the Holy Ghost," he said, and these words passed 
like a breath of life over his simple-minded hearers. One 
day, Pykas having learnt that Bilney, the first of the Cam- 
bridge doctors who had known the power of God's word, 
was preaching at Ipswich, he proceeded thither, for he never 
refused to listen to a priest, when that priest proclaimed the 
truth. " 0, what a sermon! how full of the Holy Ghost!" 
exclaimed Pykas. 

From that period meetings of the brothers in Christ (for 
thus they were called) increased in number. They read the 
New Testament, and each imparted to the others what he 
had received for the instruction of all. One day when the 
twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew had been read, Pykas, 
who was sometimes wrong in the spiritual interpretation of 
Scripture, remarked : " When the Lord declares that not one 
stone of the temple shall l>e left upon another, he speaks of 
those haughty priests who persecute those whom they call 
heretics, and who pretend to be the temple of God. God will 
destroy them all." After protesting against the priest, he 
protested against the host : " The real body of Jesus Christ 
is in the Word," he said ; " God' is in the Word, the Word 
is in God.f God and the Word cannot be separated. Christ 
is the living Word that nourishes the soul." These humble 
preachers increased. Even women knew the Epistles and 
Gospels by heart ; Marion Matthew, Dorothy Long, Cathe- 
rine Swain, Alice Gardiner, and above all, Gyrling's wife, 
who had been in service with a priest lately burnt for heresy, 
took part in these gospel meetings. And it was not in cot- 
tages only that the glad tidings were then proclaimed ; Bower 
Hall, the residence of the squires of Bumpstead, was open 
to Foxe, Topley, and Tyball, who often read the Holy Scrip- 
tures in the great hall of the mansion, in the presence of the 

Strype.vol. i. ch. i. p. 121. t Ibid. p. 130. 



384 TWO FORMS OF THE CHURCH. 

master and all their household : a humble Eeformation more 
real than that effected by Henry VIII. 

There was, however, some diversity of opinion among 
these brethren. " All who have begun to believe," said 
Tyball, Pykas, and others, " ought to meet together to heai 

the word and increase in faith. We pray in common 

and that constitutes a church." Coverdale, Bilney, and La- 
timer (villingly recognised these incomplete societies, in which 
the members met simply as disciples ; they believed them 
necessary at a period when the church was forming. These 
societies (in the reformers' views) proved that organization 
has not the priority in the Christian church, as Rome main- 
tains, and that this priority belongs to the faith and the life. 
But this imperfect form they also regarded as provisional. 
To prevent numerous dangers, it was necessary that this 
society should be succeeded by another, the church of the 
New Testament, with its elders or bishops, and deacons. 
The word, they thought, rendered a ministry of the word 
necessary; and for its proper exercise not only piety was 
required, but a knowledge of the sacred languages, the gift 
of eloquence, its exercise and perfection. However, there 
was no division among these Christians upon secondary 
matters. 

For some time the bishop of London watched this move- 
ment with uneasiness. He caused Hacker to be arrested, 
who, for six years past, had gone from house to house read- 
ing the Bible in London and Essex ; examined and threatened 
him, inquired carefully after the names of those who had 
shown him hospitality; and the poor man in alarm had 
given up about forty of his brethren. Sebastian Harris, 
priest of Kensington, Forman, rector of All Hallows, John 
and William Pykas, and many others, were summoned be- 
fore the bishop. They were taken to prison ; they were led 
before the judges ; they were put in the stocks ; they were 
tormented in a thousand ways. Their minds became con- 
fused ; their thoughts wandered ; and many made the con- 
fessions required by their persecutors. 

The adversaries of the gospel, proud of this success, now 
desired a more glorious victory. If they could not reach 



MONMOUTH ARRESTED. 385 

Tyndale, had they not in London the patron of his work, 
Monmouth, the most influential of the merchants, and a fol- 
lower of the true faith? The clergy had made religion their 
business, and the Reformation restored it to the people. 
Nothing offended the priests so much, as that laymen should 
claim the right to believe without their intervention, and 
even to propagate the faith. Sir Thomas More, one of the 
most amiable men of the sixteenth century, participated in 
their hatred. He wrote to Cochlaeus : " Germany now daily 
bringeth forth monsters more deadly than what Africa was 
wont to do ;* but, alas ! she is not alone. Numbers of Eng- 
lishmen, who would not a few years ago even hear Luther's 
name mentioned, are now publishing his praises 1 England 
is now like the sea, which swells and heaves before a great 
storm, without any wind stirring it."-j- More felt particularly 
irritated, because the boldness of the gospellers had succeeded 
to the timidity of the Lollards. " The heretics," he said, 
" have put off hypocrisy, and put on impudence." He there- 
fore resolved to set his hand to the work. 

On the 14th of May 1529, Monmouth was in his shop, 
when an usher came and summoned him to appear before 
Sir J. Dauncies, one of the privy council. The pious mer- 
chant obeyed, striving to persuade himself that he was wanted 
on some matter of business ; but in this he was deceived, as 
he soon found out. " What letters and books have you 
lately received from abroad ?"J asked, with some severity, 
Sir Thomas More, who, with Sir William Kingston, was Sir 
John's colleague. " None," replied Monmouth. " What 
aid have you given to any persons living on the continent?" 
" None, for these last three years. William Tyndale 
abode with me six months," he continued, " and his life was 
what a good priest's ought to be. I gave him ten pounds 
at the period of his departure, but nothing since. Besides, 
he is not the only one I have helped ; the bishop of London's 
chaplain, for instance, has received of me more than 50." 
" What books have you in your possession?" The mer- 
chant named the New Testament and some other works. 

Mora's Life, p. 82. f Ibid. p. 1 17. 

Strype, Records, p. 363. 

17* . 



386 HE IS INTERROGATED BY MORE. 

" All these books have lain more than two years on my 
table, and I never heard that either priests, friars, or laymen 
learnt any great errors from them."* More tossed his head. 
" It is a hard matter," he used to say, " to put a dry stick 
in the fire without its burning, or to nourish a snake in our 
bosom and not be stung by it.f That is enough," he con- 
tinued, " we shall go and search your house." Not a paper 
escaped their curiosity ; but they found nothing to compro- 
mise Monmouth; he was however sent to the Tower. 

After some interval the merchant was again brought be- 
fore his judges. " You are accused," said More, " of having 
bought Martin Luther's tracts ; of maintaining those who 
are translating the Scriptures into English ; of subscribing 
to get the New Testament printed in English, with or without 
glosses ; of having imported it into the kingdom ; and, lastly, 
of having said that faith alone is sufficient to save a man." J 

There was matter enough to burn several men. Mon- 
mouth, feeling convinced that Wolsey alone had power to 
deliver him, resolved to apply to him. " What will become 
of my poor workmen in London and in the country during 
my imprisonment?" he wrote to the cardinal. "They must 

have their money every week; who will give it them? 

Besides, I make considerable sales in foreign countries, which 
bring laige returns to his majesty's customs. If I remain 
in prison, this commerce is stopped, and of course all the pro- 
ceeds for the exchequer." Wolsey, who was as much a 
statesman as a churchman, began to melt ; on the eve of a 
struggle with the pope and the emperor, he feared, besides, 
to make the people discontented. Monmouth was released 
from prison. As alderman, and then as sheriff of London, 
he was faithful until death, and ordered in his last will that 
thirty sermons should be preached by the most evangelical 
ministers in England, " to make known the holy word of 
Jesus Christ."" That is better," he thought, " than found- 
ing masses." The Reformation showed, in the sixteenth 
century, that great activity in commerce might be allied to 
great piety. 

* Strype, Records, p. 365. f More's Life, p. 116. 

t Strype's Mem. i. p. 400. Strype. Records, i. p, 367. 



POLITICAL CHANGES. 387 



CHAPTER III. 

Political Changes Fresh Instructions from the Pope to Campeggio His 
Delays He unbosoms himself to Francis A Prediction Arrival of 
Campeggio Wolsey's Uneasiness Henry's Satisfaction The Car- 
dinal's Project Campeggio's Reception First Interview with the 
Queen and with the King Useless Efforts to make Campeggio part 
with the Decretal The Nuncio's Conscience Public Opinion Meas- 
ures taken by the King His Speech to the Lords and Aldermen 
Festivities Wolsey seeks French Support Contrariety. 

WHILE these persecutions were agitating the fields and the 
capital of England, all had changed in the ecclesiastical 
world, because all had changed in the political. The pope, 
pressed by Henry VIII. and intimidated by the armies of 
Francis I., had granted the decretal and despatched Cam- 
peggio. But, on a sudden, there was a new evolution ; a 
change of events brought a change of counsels. Doria had 
gone over to the emperor ; his fleet had restored abundance 
to Naples ; the army of Francis I., ravaged by famine and 
pestilence, had capitulated ; and Charles V., triumphant in 
Italy, had said proudly to the pope : " We are determined 
to defend the queen of England against King Henry's in- 
justice."* 

Charles having recovered his superiority, the affrighted 
pope opened his eyes to the justice of Catherine's cause. 
" Send four messengers after Campeggio," said he to his 
officers ; " and let each take a different road ; bid them travel 
with all speed and deliver our despatches to him."-{- They 
overtook the legate, who opened the pope's letters. " In the 
first place," said Clement VII. to him, " protract your journey. 
In the second place, when you reach England, use every 
endeavour to reconcile the king and queen. In the third 

* Cum Caesar materterae suae causam contra injurias Henrici pro- 
pngnaverit. Sanders, p. 28. 

t Quatuor nuncios celerrimo cursu diversis itineribus ad Campegium 
misit. Ibid. t Herbert, p. 253. 



388 CAMPEGGIO'S DELAYS. 

place, if you do not succeed, persuade the queen to take the 
veil. And in the last place, if she refuses, do not pronounce 
any sentence favourable to the divorce without a new and 
express order from me. This is the essential : Summum et 
maximum mandatum" The ambassador of the sovereign 
pontiff had a mission to do nothing. This instruction is 
sometimes as effective as any. 

Campeggio, the youngest of the cardinals, was the most 
intelligent and the slowest ; and this slowness caused his 
selection by the pope. He understood his master. If 
"Wolsey was Henry's spur to urge on Campeggio, the latter 
was Clement's bridle to check Wolsey.* One of the judges 
of the divorce was about to pull forwards, the other back- 
wards ; thus the business stood a chance of not advancing 
at all, which was just what the pope required. 

The legate, very eager to relax his speed, spent three 
months on his journey from Italy to England. He should 
have embarked for France on the 23d of July ; but the end 
of August was approaching, and no one knew in that coun- 
try what had become of him.-J- At length they learnt that 
he had reached Lyons on the 22d of August. The English 
ambassador in France sent him horses, carriages, plate, and 
money, in order to hasten his progress ; the legate complained 
of the gout, and Gardiner found the greatest difficulty in 
getting him to move. Henry wrote every day to Anne 
Boleyn, complaining of the slow progress of the nuncio. " He 
arrived in Paris last Sunday or Monday," he says at the 
beginning of September ; " Monday next we shall hear of his 
arrival in Calais, and then I shall obtain what I have so 
longed for, to God's pleasure and both our comforts."! 

At the same time this impatient prince sent message after 
message to accelerate the legate's rate of travelling. 

Anne began to desire a future which surpassed all that her 
youthful imagination had conceived, and her agitated heart 
expanded to the breath of hope. She wrote to Wolsey : 

'" This shall be to give unto your grace, as I am most 

* Fuller, book v. p. 172. f State Papers, vii. p. 91, 92. 

J Pamphleteer, No. 43, p. 117. 



ANNE'S LETTER TO WOLSEY. 389 

bound, my humble thanks for the great pain and travail that 
your grace doth take in studying, by your wisdom and great 
diligence, how to bring to pass honourably the greatest 
wealth [well-being] that is possible to come to any creature 
living; and in especial remembering how wretdied and un- 
worthy I am in comparison to his highness Now, good 

my lord, your discretion may consider as yet how little it is 
in my power to recompense you but alonely [only] with my 
good will ; the which I assure you, look what thing in this 
world I can imagine to do you pleasure in, you shall find me 
the gladdest woman in the world to do it."* 

But the impatience of the king of England and of Anno 
seemed as if it would never be satisfied. Campeggio, on his 
way through Paris, told Francis I. that the divorce would 
never take place, and that he should soon go to Spain to see 
Charles V This was significative. "The king of Eng- 
land ought to know," said the indignant Francis tothe duke 
of Suffolk, " that Campeggio is imperialist at heart, and that 
his mission in England will be a mere mockery." -j- 

In truth, the Spanish and Roman factions tried every ma- 
noeuvre to prevent a union they detested. Anne Boleyn, 
queen of England, signified not only Catherine humbled, but 
Charles offended ; the clerical party weakened, perhaps de- 
stroyed, and the evangelical party put in its place. The 
Romish faction found accomplices even in Anne's own family. 
Her brother George's wife, a proud and passionate woman, 
and a rigid Roman-catholic, had sworn an implacable hatred 
against her young sister. By this means wounds might.be 
inflicted, even in the domestic sanctuary, which would not 
be the less deep because they were the work of her own 
kindred. One day we are told that Anne found in her cham- 
ber a book of pretended prophecies, in which was a picture 
representing a king, a queen shedding tears, and at their feet 
a young lady headless. Anne turned away her eyes with 

* Pamphleteer, p. 151. 

t The cardinal intended not that your Grace's matter should take 
effect, but only to use dissimulation with your Grace, for he is eutirelj 
imperial. Suffolk to Henry, State Papers vii. p. 183. 



390 A CKUEJL PKOPHECY. 

disgust. She desired, however, to know what this emblem 
signified, and officious friends brought to her one of those 
pretended wise men, so numerous at all times, who abuse the 
credulity of the ignorant by professing to interpret such mys- 
teries. " This prophetic picture," he said, " represents the 
history of the king and his wife." Anne was not credulous, 
but she understood what her enemies meant to insinuate, 
and dismissed the mock interpreter without betraying any 
signs of fear ; then turning to her favourite attendant, Anne 
Saville, " Come hither, Nan," said she, " look at this book 
of prophecies ; this is the king, this is the queen wringing 
her hands and mourning, and this (putting her finger on the 
bleeding body) is myself, with my head cut off." The young 
lady answered with a shudder : " If I thought it were true, 
I would not myself have him were he an emperor." " Tut, 
Nan," replied Anne Boleyn with a sweet smile, " I think 
the book a bauble, and am resolved to have him, that my 
issue ma^y be royal, whatever may become of me." * This 
story is based on good authority, and there were so many 
predictions of this kind afloat that it ia very possible one of 
them might come true; people afterwards recollected only 
the prophecies confirmed by the events. But, be that as it 
may, this young lady, so severely chastised in after-days, 
found in her God an abundant consolation. 

At length Campeggio embarked at Calais on the 29th or 
September, and unfortunately for him he had an excellent 
passage across the Channel. A storm to drive him back to 
the French coast would have suited him admirably. But on 
the 1st of October he was at Canterbury, whence he an- 
nounced his arrival to the king. At this news, Henry for- 
got all the delays which had so irritated him. " His majesty 
can never be sufficiently grateful to your holiness for so 
great a favour," wrote Wolsey to the pope ; " but he will 
employ his riches, his kingdom, his life even, and deserve 
the name of Restorer of the Church as justly as he has gained 
that of Defender of the Faith." This zeal alarmed Cam- 
peggio, for the pope wrote to him that any proceeding which 
might irritate Charles would inevitably cause the ruin of the 
* Wyatt, p. 430 



CAMPEGGIO ENTERS LONDON. 391 

church.* The nuncio became more dilatory than ever, and 
although he reached Canterbury on the 1st of October, he 
did not arrive at Dartford until the 5th, thus taking four 
days for a journey of about thirty miles.f 

Meanwhile preparations were making to receive him in 
London. Wolsey, feeling contempt for the poverty of the 
Roman cardinals, and very uneasy about the equipage with 
which his colleague was likely to make his entrance into the 
capital, sent a number of showy chests, rich carpets, litters 
hung with drapery, and harnessed mules. On the other 
hand Campeggio, whose secret mission was to keep in the' 
back-ground, and above allato do nothing, feared these ban- 
ners, and trappings, and all the parade of a triumphal entry. 
Alleging therefore an attack of gout in order to escape from 
the pomps his colleague had prepared for him, he quietly took 
a boat, and thus reached the palace of the bishop of Bath, 
where he was to lodge. 

While the nuncio was thus proceeding unnoticed up the 
Thames, the equipages sent by Wolsey entered London 
through the midst of a gaping crowd, who looked on them 
with curiosity as if they had come from the banks of the 
Tiber. Some of the mules however took fright and ran 
away, the coffers fell off and burst open, when there was a 
general rush to see their contents ; but to the surprise of all 
they were empty. This was an excellent jest for the citizens 
of London. " Fine outside, empty inside ; a just emblem 
of the popedom, its embassy, and foolish pomps," they said ; 
" a sham legate, a procession of masks, and the whole a 
farce ! " 

Campeggio was come at last, and now what he dreaded 
most was an audience. " I cannot move," he said, " or en- 
dure the motion of a litter." J Never had an attack of gout 
been more seasonable. Wolsey, who paid him frequent 
visits, soon found him to be his equal in cunning. To no 

* Sanga to Campeggio, from Viterbo, 27th September, llankc 
Deutsche Gesch. iii. p. 135. 

f- State Papers, vii. p. 94, 95. 

J Despatch from the bishop of Bayonne, 16th October 1529. Le Grand, 
Pre uves, p. 169. 



392 ANNE'S INDECISION TERMINATED. 

purpose did he treat him with every mark of respect, shak- 
ing his hand and making much of him ; * it was labour lost, 
the Roman nuncio would say nothing, and Wolsey began to 
despair. The king, on the contrary, was full of hope, and 
fancied he already had the act of divorce in his portfolio, be- 
cause he had the nuncio in his kingdom. 

The greatest effect of the nuncio's arrival was the putting 
an end to Anne Boleyn's indecision. She had several re- 
lapses : the trials which she foresaw, and the grief Catherine 
must necessarily feel, had agitated her imagination and dis- 
turbed her mind. But when she saw the church and her 
own enemies prepared to pronounce the king's divorce, her 
doubts were removed, and she regarded as legitimate the 
position that was offered her. The king, who suffered from 
her scruples, was delighted at this change. " I desire to in- 
form you," he wrote to her in English, " what joy it is to 
me to understand of your conformableness with reason, and 
of the suppressing of your inutile and vain thoughts and 
fantasies with the bridle of reason. I assure you all the 
greatness of this world could not counterpoise for my satis- 
faction the knowledge and certainty thereof The unfeigned 

sickness of this well-willing legate doth somewhat retard his 
access to your person."-}- It was therefore the determina- 
tion of the pope that made Anne Boleyn resolve to accept 
Henry's hand ; this is an important lesson for which we are 
indebted to the Vatican letters. We should be grateful to 
the papacy for having so carefully preserved them. 

But the more Henry rejoiced, the more Wolsey despaired ; 
he would have desired to penetrate into Clement's thoughts, 
but could not succeed. Imagining that De Angelis, the 
general of the' Spanish Observance, knew all the secrets of 
the pope and of the emperor, he conceived the plan of kid- 
napping him. " If he goes to Spain by sea," said he to Du 
Bellay, " a good brigantine or two would do the business ; 
and if by land, it will be easier still." Du Bellay failed not 
(as he informs us himself) " to. tell him plainly that by such 

* Quern sirpius visitavi et amantis/me sum complexus. State Papers, 
vii. p. 103. 
f Pamphleteer, No. 43, r. 123. 



CAMPEGGIO'S INTERVIEW WITH TIIE QUEEN. 393 

proceedings lie would entirely forfeit the pope's good will." 
"What matter?" replied Wolsey, " Fhave nothing to lose." 
As he said this, tears started to his eyes.* At last he made 
up his mind to remain ignorant of the pontiff's designs, and 
wiped his eyes, awaiting, not without fear, the interview be- 
tween Henry and Campeggio. 

On the 22d of October, a month after his arrival, the nun- 
cio, borne in a sedan chair of red velvet, was carried to court. 
He was placed on the right of the throne, and his secretary 
in his name delivered a high-sounding speech, saluting 
Henry with the name of Saviour of Rome, Liberator urlif. 
" His majesty," replied Fo* in the king's name, " has only 
performed the duties incumbent on a Christian prince, and 
he hopes that the holy see will bear them in mind." " Well 
attacked, well defended," said Du Bellay. For the moment, 
a few Latin declamations got the papal 'nuncio out of his 
difficulties. 

Campeggio did not deceive himself: if the divorce were 
refused, he foresaw the reformation of England. Yet he 
hoped still, for he was assured that Catherine would submit 
to the judgment of the church; and being fully persuaded 
that the queen would refuse the holy father nothing, -the 
nuncio began " his approaches," as Du Bellay calls them. 
On the 27th of October, the two cardinals waited on Cathe- 
rine, and in flattering terms insinuated that she might pre- 
vent the blow which threatened her by voluntary retirement 
into a convent. And then, to end all indecision in the queen's 
mind, Campeggio put on a severe look and exclaimed: " How 
is it, madam, explain the mystery to us ? From the moment 
the holy father appointed us to examine the question of your 
divorce, you have been seen not only at court, but in public, 
wearing the most magnificent ornaments, participating with 
an appearance of gaiety and satisfaction at amusements and 

festivities which you had never tolerated before The 

church is in the most cruel embarrassment with regard to 
you ; the king, your husband, is in the greatest perplexity ; 
the princess, your daughter, is taken from you and in- 

* Du Bellay to Montmorenoy, 21st October. Le Grand. Preuves, 
p. 185. 



3D 4 THE QUEEN'S REPLY. 

stead of shedding tears, you give yourself up to vanity. 
Renounce the world, madam ; enter a nunnery. Our holy 
father himself requires this of you." * 

The agitated queen was almost fainting ; stifling her emo- 
tion, however, she said mildly but firmly : " Alas ! my lords, 
is it now a question whether I am the king's lawful wife or 
not, when I have been married to him almost twenty years 

and no objection raised before? Divers prelates and lords 

are yet alive who then adjudged our marriage good and law- 
ful, and now to say it is detestable ! this is a great marvel 
to me, especially when I consider what a wise prince the 
king's father was, and also the natural love and affection my 
father, King Ferdinand, bare unto me. I think that neither 
of these illustrious princes would have made me contract an 
illicit union." At these words, Catherine's emotion com- 
pelled her to stop*. " If I weep, my lords," she continued 
almost immediately, " it is not for myself, it is for a person 
dearer to me than my life. What ! I should consent to an 
act which deprives my daughter of a crown ? No, I will not 
sacrifice my child. I know what dangers threaten me. I 
am only a weak woman, a stranger, without learning, ad- 
visers, or friends and my enemies are skilful, learned in 

the laws, and desirous to merit their master's favour 

and more than that, even my judges are my enemies. Can 
I receive as such." she said as she looked at Campeggio, 

" a man extorted from the pope by manifest lying? And 

as for you," added she, turning haughtily to Wolsey, " having 
failed in attaining the tiara, you have sworn to revenge your- 
self on my nephew the emperor and you have kept him 

true promise ; for of all his wars and vexations, he may only 
thank you. One victim was not enough for you. Forging 
abominable suppositions, you desire to plunge his aunt into 

a frightful abyss But my cause is just, and I trust it in 

the Lord's hand." After this bold language, the unhappy 
Catherine withdrew to her apartments. The imminence of 
the danger effected a salutary revolution in her; she laid 
aside her brilliant ornaments, assumed the sober garments 

* Du Bellay to Montmorency 1st November. Le Grand, Preuves, 
p. 1.05. 



HENRY'S INTERVIEW WITH THE NUNCIO. 395 

in which she is usually represented, and passed days and 
nights in mourning and in tears.* 

Thus Campeggio saw his hopes deceived ; he had thought 

to find a nun, and had met a queen and a mother He 

now proceeded to set every imaginable spring at work; as 
Catherine would not renounce Henry, he must try and pre- 
A'ail upon Henry to renounce his idea of separating from the 
queen. The Roman legate therefore changed his batteries, 
and turned them against the king. 

Henry, always impatient, went one day unannounced to 
Campeggio's lodging, accompanied by Wolsey only :-j- " As 
we are without witnesses," he said, taking his seat familiarly 
between the two cardinals, " let us speak freely of our affairs. J 
How shall you proceed ?" But to his great astonishment 
and grief, the nuncio prayed him, with all imaginable de- 
licacy, to renounce the divorce.|| At these words the fiery 
Tudor burst out : " Is this how the pope keeps his word ? 
He sends me an ambassador to annul my marriage, but in 
reality to confirm it." He made a pause. Campeggio knew 
not what to say. Henry and Catherine being equally per- 
suaded of the justice of their cause, the nuncio was in a 
dilemma. Wolsey himself suffered a martyrdom.^ The 
king's anger grew fiercer ; he had thought the legate would 
hasten to withdraw an imprudent expression, but Campeggio 
was dumb. " I see that you have chosen your part," said 
Henry to the nuncio ; " mine, you may be sure, will soon be 
taken also. Let the pope only persevere in this way of act- 
ing, and the apostolical see, cohered with perpetual infamy, 
will be visited with a frightful destruction."** The lion had 
thrown off the lamb's skin which he had momentarily as- 

* Regina in luctu et lacrymis nodes diesque egit. Sanders, p. 29. 

f Regia majestas et ego ad eum crebro accessimus. State Papers, 
vii. p. 103. 

J Rex et duo cardinales, remotis arbitris, de suis rebus multum et dis 
collocuti. Sanders, p. 29. 

Incredibili utriusque nostrum animi moerore. State Papers, vii. p. 104. 

!! Conatus est ornne divortium inter regiam majestatem et regiiia'.n 
dissuadere. Ibid. 

H Non absque ingenti cruciatu. Ibid. 

** lugemiscendum excidium, perpetua infamia. Ibid. 



396 CAMPEGGIO SHOWS THE DECRETAL. 

sumed. Campeggio felt that he must appease the monarch. 
" Craft and delay" were his orders from Rome ; and with 
that view the pope had provided him with the necessafy 
arms. He hastened to produce the famous decretal which 
pronounced the divorce. " The holy father," he told the 
king, " ardently desires that this matter should be terminated 
by a happy reconciliation between you and the queen ; but 
if that is impossible, you shall judge yourself whether or not 
his holiness can keep his promises." He then read the bull, 
and even showed it to Henry, without permitting it, however, 
to leave his hands. This exhibition produced the desired 
effect : Henry grew calm. " Now I am at ease again," he 
said ; " this miraculous talisman revives all my courage. 
This decretal is the efficacious remedy that will restore peace 
to my oppressed conscience, and joy to my bruised heart.* 
Write to his holiness, that this immense benefit binds me to 
him so closely, that he may expect from me more than his 
imagination can conceive." 

And yet a few clouds gathered shortly after in the king's 
mind. 

Campcggio having shown the bull had hastened to lock it 
up again. Would he presume to keep it in his own hands ? 
Henry and Wolsey will leave no means untried to get pos- 
session of it ; that point gained, and victory is theirs. 

Wolsey having returned to the nuncio, he asked him for 
the decretal with an air of candour as if it was the most na- 
tural thing in the world. He desired, he said, to show it to 
the king's privy councillors. " The pope," replied Campeg- 
gio, " has granted this bull, not to be used, but to be kept 
secret ;f he simply desired to show the king the good feeling 
by which he was animated." Wolsey having failed, Henry 
tried his skill. " Have the goodness to hand me the bull 
which you showed me," said he. The nuncio respectfully 
refused. " For a single moment," he said. Campeggio still 
refused. The haughty Tudor retired, stifling his anger. 
Then Wolsey made another attempt, and founded his de- 

* Remedium levamenque affiictae oppressaque conscientizc. State 
Papers, vii. p. 104. 
h Non ut ea uteremur, sed ut sccreta haberctur. Ibid. 



REFUSES TO PART WITH IT. 397 

raand on justice. " Like you, I am delegated by his holi- 
ness to decide this affair," he said, " and I wish to study the 
important document which is to regulate our proceedings/' 
This was met by a new refusal. " What!" exclaimed the. 
^minister of Henry VIII., " am I not, like you, a cardinal? 

like you, a judge? your colleague?" It mattered not, 

the nuncio would not, by any means, let the decretal go.* 
Clement was not deceived in the choice he had made of 
Campeggio: the ambassador was worthy of his master. 

It was evident that the pope in granting the bull had been 
acting a part : this trick revolted the king. It was no longer 
anger that he felt, but disgust. Wolsey knew that Henry's 
contempt was more to be feared than his wrath. He grew 
alarmed, and paid the nuncio another visit. " The general 
commission," he said, " is insufficient, the decretal commis- 
sion alone can be of service, and you do not permit us to 

read a word of it.-J- The king and I place the greatest 

confidence in the good intentions of his holiness, and yet we 
find our expectations frustrated. J Where is that paternal 
affection with which we had flattered ourselves ? What 
prince has ever been trifled with as the king of England is 
now? If this is the way in which the Defender of the Faith 
is rewarded, Christendom will know what those who serve 
Rome will have to expect from her, and every power will 
withdraw its support. Do not deceive yourselves : the 
foundation on which the holy see is placed is so very insecure 
that the least movement will suffice to precipitate it into 
everlasting ruin What a sad futurity! what inex- 
pressible torture! whether I wake or sleep, gloomy 

thoughts continually pursue me like a frightful nightmare." || 
This time Wolsey spoke the truth. 

But all his eloquence was useless ; Campeggio refused to 

* Nullo pacto adduci vult, ut mihi, suo collegce, commissionem hano 
decreta'iem e suis maaibus credat. State Papers, vii. p. 105. 

f Nee ullum verbum nee mentionem ullam. Ibid. 

t Esse omui spe frustrates quam in przefata Sanctitate tarn ingenue 
reposueramtis. Ibid. 

A fundamento tarn levi, incertaque statera pendeat, ut in sempiter- 
nam ruinam. Ibid. p. IOC. 

Q Quanto animi cruciatu vigilans dormiensque. Ibid. p. 108. 



398 THE NUNCIO REFUSES EVERYTHING. 

give up the so much desired bull. When sending him, 
Rome had told him: "Above all, do not succeed!" This 
means having failed, there remained for Wolsey one other 
way of effecting the divorce. " Well, then," he said to 
Campeggio, " let us pronounce it ourselves." " Far be it 
from us," replied the nuncio ; " the anger of the emperor 
will be so great, that the peace of Europe will be broken for 
ever." " I know how to arrange all that," replied the Eng- 
lish cardinal, " in political matters you may trust to me." * 
The nuncio then took another tone, and proudly wrapping 
himself up in his morality, he said : " I shall follow the voice 
of my conscience; if I see that the divorce is possible, I 
shall leap the ditch ; if otherwise, ... shall not." " Your con- 
science ! that may be easily satisfied," rejoined Wolsey. 
" Holy Scripture forbids a man to marry his brother's widow ; 
now no pope can grant what is forbidden by the law of 
God." " The Lord preserve us from such a principle," ex- 
claimed the Roman prelate ; " the power of the pope is un- 
limited." The nuncio had hardly put his conscience forward 
before it stumbled ; it bound him to Rome and not to 
heaven. But for that matter, neither public opinion nor 
Campeggio's own friends had any great idea of his morality ; 
they thought that to make him leap the ditch, it was only 
requisite to know the price at which he might be bought. 
The bishop of Bayonne wrote to Montmorency : " Put at the 
close of a letter which I can show Campeggio something 

promissory, that he shall have benefices That will cost 

you nothing, and may serve in this matter of the marriage ; 
for I know that he is longing for something of the sort." 
" What is to be done then," said Wolsey at last, astonished 
at meeting with a resistance to which he was unaccustomed. 
<l I shall inform the pope of what I have seen and heard," 
icplied Campeggio, "and I shall wait for his instructions." 
Henry was forced to consent to this new course, for the 
nuncio hinted, that if it were opposed he would go in person 
to Rome to ask the pontiff's orders, and he never would have 
returned. By this means several months were gained. 
During this time men's minds were troubled. The pros- 
" Du Bellay to Montmorency. Lo Grand, Preuyes, p. 266. 



THE PEOPLE SUPPORT CATHERINE. 300 

pect of a divorce between the king and queen had stirred 
the nation ; and the majority, particularly among the women, 
declared against the king. " Whatever may be done," the 
people said boldly, " whoever marries the Princess Mary 
will be king of England."* Wolsey's spies informed him 
that Catherine and Charles V. had many devoted partisans 
even at the court. He wished to make sure of this. " It is 
pretended," he said one day in an indifferent tone, " that the 
emperor has boasted that he will get the king driven from 

his realm, and that by his majesty's own subjects "What 

do you think of it, my lords ? " " Tough against the spur," 
says Du Bellay, the lords remained silent. At length, how- 
ever, one of them more imprudent than the rest, exclaimed : 
" Such a boast will make the emperor lose more than a 
hundred thousand Englishmen." This was enough for 
"Wolsey. To lose them, he thought, Charles must have 
them. If Catherine thought of levying war against her 
husband, following the example of former queens of Eng- 
land, she would have, then, a party ready to support her ; 
this became dangerous. 

The king and the cardinal immediately took their meas- 
ures. More than 15,000 of Charles's subjects were ordered 
to leave London ; the arms of the citizens were seized, " in 
order that they might have no worse weapon than the 
tongue ;"f the Flemish councillors accorded to Catherine 
were dismissed, after they had been heard by the king and 
Campeggio, "for they had no commission to speak to the 
other [Wolsey] " and finally, they kept " a great and con- 
stant watch " upon the country. Men feared an invasion of 
England, and Henry was not of a humour to subject his 
kingdom to the pope. 

This was not enough ; the alarmed king thought it his 
duty to come to an explanation with his people ; and having 
summoned the lords spiritual and temporal, the judges, the 
members of the privy-council, the mayor and aldermen of 
the city, and many of the gentry, to meet him at his palace 

* Du Bellay to Montmorency, 8th November 1528. Le Grand, 
Preuves, p. 204. t Ibid. p. 232, 



400 HENRY'S SPEECH TO THE LORDS. 

of Bridewell on the 13th of November,* he said to them with 
a very condescending air : " You know, my lords and gentle- 
men, that for these twenty years past divine Providence has 
granted our country such prosperity as it had never known 
before. But in the midst of all the glory that surrounds me, 
the thought of my last hour often occurs to me,-J- and I fear 
that if I should die without an heir, my death would cause 
more damage to my people than my life has done them good. 
God forbid, that for want of a legitimate king England 
should be again plunged into the horrors of civil war!" 
Then calling to mind the illegalities invalidating his mar- 
riage with Catherine, the king continued : " These thoughts 
have filled my mind with anxiety, and are continually prick- 
ing my conscience. This is the only motive, and God is my 
witness, J which has made me lay this matter before the 
pontiff. As touching the queen, she is a woman incompar- 
able in gentleness, humility, and buxomness, as I these 
twenty years have had experiment of; so that if I were to 
marry again, if the marriage might be good, I would surely 
choose her above all other women. But if it be determined 
by judgment that our marriage was against God's law, and 
surely void, then I shall not only sorrow in departing from 
so good a lady and loving companion, but much more lament 
and bewail my unfortunate chance, that I have so long lived 
in adultery, to God's great displeasure, and have no true 
heir of my body to inherit this realm Therefore I re- 
quire of you all to pray with us that the very truth may 
be known, for the discharging of our conscience and the 
saving of our soul." These words, though wanting in 
sincerity, were well calculated to soothe men's minds. Un- 
fortunately, it appears that after this speech from the crown, 
the official copy of which has been preserved, Henry 
added a few words of his own. " If however," he said, ac- 

* This act is dated Idibus Novembris. Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. 714. 
Herbert and Collyer say the 8th November. 

tin mentem uua venit et concurrit mortis cogitatio. Ibid. 

J Hsec una res quod Deo teste et in regis oraculo affirmamus. Wilkins, 
Concilia, iii. p. 714. Hall, p. 754. 



COURT REJOICINGS. 401 

cording to Du Bellay, casting a threatening glance around 
him, " there should be any man whatsoever who speaks of 
his prince in other than becoming terms, I will show him 
that I am the master, and there is no head so high that I 
will not roll it from his shoulders."* This was a speech in 
Henry's style ; but we cannot give unlimited credit to Du 
Bellay's assertions, this diplomatist being very fond, like 
others of his class, of " seasoning" his despatches. But 
whatever may be the fact as regards the postscript, the 
speech on the divorce produced an effect. From that time 
there were no more jests, not even on the part of the Boleyns' 
enemies. Some supported the king, others were content to 
pity the queen in secret ; the majority prepared to take ad- 
vantage of a court-revolution which every one foresaw. 
" The king so plainly gave them to understand his pleasure," 
says the French ambassador, " that they speak more soberly 
than they have done hitherto." 

Henry wishing to silence the clamours of the people, and 
to allay the fears felt by the higher classes, gave several 
magnificent entertainments at one time in London, at another 
at Greenwich, now at Hampton Court, and then at Rich- 
mond. The queen accompanied him, but Anne generally 
remained " in a very handsome lodging which Henry had 
furnished for her," says Du Bellay. The cardinal, following 
his master's example, gave representations of French plays 
with great magnificence. All his hope was in France. " I 
desire nothing in England, neither in word nor in deed, which 
is not French,"f he said to the bishop of Bayonne. At 
length Anne Boleyn had accepted the brilliant position she 
had at first refused, and every day her stately mansion 
(Suffolk House) was filled with a numerous court, " more 
than ever had crowded to the queen." " Yes, yes," said Du 
Bellay, as he saw the crowd turning towards the rising sun, 
" they wish by these little things to accustom the people to 
endure her, that when great ones are attempted, they may 
not be found so strange." 

* Du Bellay to Montmorency, 17th November 1528. Le Grand, 
Preuves, p. 218. 

t Du Bellay to Montmorency, 1st January. Ibid. p. 268. 
VOL. v. 18 



402 DU BELLAY SOLICITS CAMPEGGM). 

In the midst of these festivities the grand business did not 
slumber. When the French ambassador solicited the sub- 
sidy intended for the ransom of the sons of Francis L, the 
cardinal required of him in exchange a paper proving that 
the marriage had never been valid. Du Bellay excused 
himself on the ground of his age and want of learning ; but 
being given to understand that he could not have the subsidy 
without it, he wrote the memoir in a single day. The en- 
raptured cardinal and king entreated him to speak with Cam- 
peggio.* The ambassador consented, and succeeded beyond 
all expectation. The nuncio, fully aware that a bow too 
much bent will break, made Henry by turns become the 
sport of hope and fear. " Take care how you assert that 
the pope had not the right to grant a dispensation to the 
king," said he to the French bishop ; " this would be denying 
his power, which is infinite. But," added he in a mysterious 
tone, " I will point out a road that will infallibly lead you 
to the mark. Show that the holy father has been deceived 
by false information. Push me hard on that" he continued, 
" so as to force me to declare that the dispensation was 
granted on erroneous grounds."f Thus did the legate him- 
self reveal the breach by which the fortress might be sur- 
prised. " Victory!" exclaimed Henry, as he entered Anne's 
apartments all beaming with joy. 

But this confidence on the part of Campeggio was only a 
new trick. " There is a great rumour at court," wrote Du 
Bellay soon after, " that the emperor and the king of France 
are coming together, and leaving Henry alone, so that all 
will fall on his shoulders." f Wolsey, finding that the in- 
trigues of diplomacy had failed, thought it his duty to put 
fresh springs in motion, " and by all good and honest means 
to gain the pope's favour. He saw, besides, to his great 
sorrow, the new catholicity then forming in the world, and 
uniting, by the closest bonds, the Christians of England to 
those of the continent. To strike down one of the leaders of 

* Le Grand, Preuves, p. 2i'0. 

|- Poussez-moi cela raide. Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, 
Preuves, p. 217. 
t Ibid, p, 219. Ibid. p. ?25. 



TRUE CATHOLICITY. 403 

this evangelical movement might incline the court of Rome 
in Henry's favour. The cardinal undertook, thereiore, to 
persecute Tyndale; and this resolution will now transport 
us to Germany. 



CHAPTER IV. 

True Catholicity Wolsey Harman's Matter West sent to Cologne 
Labours of Tyndale and Fryth Riucke at Frankfort He makes a 
Discovery Tyndale at Marburg West returns to England His Tor- 
tures in the Monastery. 

THE residence of Tyndale and his friends in foreign countries, 
and the connexions there formed with pious Christians, testify 
to the fraternal spirit which the Reformation then restored 
to the church. It is in protestantism that true catholicity is 
to be found. The Romish church is not a catholic church. 
Separated from the churches of the east, which are the oldest 
in Christendom, and from the reformed churches, which are 
the purest, it is nothing but a sect, and that a degenerated 
one. A church which should profess to believe in an epis- 
copal unity, but which kept itself separate from the episco- 
pacy of Rome and of .the East, and from the evangelical 
churches, would be no longer a catholic church ; it would be 
a sect more sectarian still than that of the Vatican, a frag- 
ment of a fragment. The church of the Saviour requires a 
truer, a diviner unity than that of priests, who condemn one 
another. It was the reformers, and particularly Tyndale,* 
who proclaimed throughout Christendom the existence of a 
body of Christ, of which all the children of God are members. 
The disciples of the Reformation are the true catholics. 

It was a catholicity of another sort that Wolsey desired 
to uphold. He did not reject certain reforms in the church, 
particularly such as brought him any profit ; but, before all, 
he wished to preserve for the hierarchy their privileges and 
uniformity. The Romish church in England was then per- 

* The Church of Christ is the multitude of all them that believe ia 
Christ, &c. Exposition of Matthew, Prologue. 



404 WOLSEY'S CATHOLICITY. 

sonified in him, and if he fell, its ruin would be near. His 
political talents and multiplied relations with the continent, 
caused him to discern more clearly than others the dangers 
which threatened the popedom. The publication of the Scrip- 
tures of God in English appeared to some a cloud without 
importance, which would soon disappear from the horizon ; but 
to the foreseeing glance of Wolsey, it betokened a mighty 
tempest. Besides, he loved not the fraternal relations then 
forming between the evangelical Christians of Great Britain 
and of other nations. Annoyed by this spiritual catholicity, 
he resolved to procure the arrest of Tyndale, who was its 
principal organ. 

Already had Hackett, Henry's envoy to the Low Coun- 
tries, caused the imprisonment of Harman, an Antwerp mer- 
chant, one of the principal supporters of the English reformer. 
But Hackett had in vain asked Wolsey for such documents as 
would convict him of treason (for the crime of loving the Bible 
was not sufficient to procure Harman's condemnation in Bra- 
bant) ; the envoy had remained without letters from England, 
and the last term fixed by the law having expired, Harman 
and his wife were liberated after seven months' imprisonment. 

And yet Wolsey had not been inactive. The cardinal 
hoped to find elsewhere the co-operation which Margaret of 
Austria refused. It was Tyndale that he wanted, and every- 
thing seemed to indicate that he was then hidden at Cologne 
or in its neighbourhood. Wolsey, recollecting senator Rincke 
and the services he had already performed, determined to send 
to him one John West, a friar of the Franciscan convent at 
Greenwich. West, a somewhat narrow-minded but ener- 
getic man, was very desirous of distinguishing himself, and 
he had already gained some notoriety in England among the 
adversaries of the Reformation. Flattered by his mission, 
this vain monk immediately set off for Antwerp, accompanied 
by another friar, in order to seize Tyndale, and even Roy, 
once his colleague at Greenwich, and against whom he had 
there ineffectually contended in argument. 

While these men were conspiring his ruin, Tyndale com- 
posed several works, got them printed, and sent to England, 
and prayed God night and day to enlighten his fellow coun- 



MISSION TO SEIZE TYNDALE. 405 

trymen. " Why do you give yourself so much trouble ?" said 
some of his friends. " They will burn your books as they 
have burnt the Gospel." " They will only do what I expect," 
replied he, " if they burn me also." Already he beheld his 
own burning pile in the distance ; but it was a sight which 
only served to increase his zeal. Hidden, like Luther at the 
Wartburg, not however in a castle, but in a humble lodging, 
Tyndale, like the Saxon reformer, spent his days and nights 
translating the Bible. But not having an elector of Saxony 
to protect him, he was forced to change his residence from 
time to time. 

At this epoch, Fryth, who had escaped from the prisons 
of Oxford, rejoined Tyndale, and the sweets of friendship 
softened the bitterness of their exile. Tyndale having finished 
the New Testament, and begun the translation of the Old, 
the learned Fryth was of great use to him. The mbre they 
studied the word of God, the more they admired it. In the 
beginning of 1529, they published the books of Genesis and 
Deuteronomy, and addressing their fellow-countrymen, they 
said : " As thou readest, think that every syllable pertaineth 
to thine own self, and suck out the pith of the Scripture."* 
Then denying that visible signs naturally impart grace, as 
the schoolmen had pretended, Tyndale maintained that the 
sacraments are effectual only when the Holy Ghost sheds 
his influence upon them. " The ceremonies of the law," he 
wrote, " stood the Israelites in the same stead as the sacra- 
ments do us. We are saved not by the power of the sacrifice 
or the deed itself, but by virtue of faith in the promise, 
whereof the sacrifice or ceremony was a token or sign. The 
Holy Ghost is no dumb God, ho God that'goeth a-mum- 
ming. Wherever the word is proclaimed, this inward wit- 
ness worketh. If baptism preach me the washing in Christ's 
blood, so doth the Holy Ghost accompany it ; and that deed 
of preaching through faith doth put away my sins. The 
ark of Noah saved them in the water through faith."-j- 

The man who dared address England in language so con- 
trary to the teaching of the middle ages must be imprisoned. 

* Prologue to the Book of Genesis (Doctr. Tr.) p. 400. 

t Prologue to the Book of Leviticus (Doctr. Tr.* p. 423, 424, 428. 



406 TYNDALE SOUGHT AT FHANKFORT. 

John "West, who had been sent with this object, arrived at 
Antwerp ; Hackett procured for him as interpreter a friar of 
English descent, made him assume a secular dress, and gave 
him " three pounds " on the cardinal's account ; the less 
attention the embassy attracted, the more likely it would be 
to succeed. But great was West's vexation, on reaching 
Cologne, to learn that Rincke was at Frankfort. But that 
mattered not ; the Greenwich monk could search for Tyndale 
at Cologne, and desire Rincke to do the same at Frankfort ; 
thus there would be two searches instead of one. "West 
procured a " swift" messenger, (he too was a monk,) and 
gave him the letter "Wolsey had addressed to Rincke. 

It was fair-time at Frankfort, and the city was filled with 
merchants and their wares. As soon as Rincke had finished 
reading Wolsey's letter, he hastened to the burgomasters, 
and required them to confiscate the English translations of 
the Scriptures, and, above all, to seize " the heretic who was 
troubling England as Luther troubled Germany." " Tyn- 
dale and his friends have not appeared in our fairs since the 
month of March 1528," replied the magistrates, " and we 
know not whether they are dead or alive." 

Rincke was not discouraged. John Schoot of Strasburg, 
who was said to have printed Tyndale's books, and who 
cared less about the works he published than the money he 
drew from them, happened to be at Frankfort. " Where is 
Tyndale?" Rincke asked him. " I do not know," replied 
the printer ; but he confessed that he had printed a thousand 
volumes at the request of Tyndale and Roy. " Bring them 
to me," continued the senator of Cologne. " If a fair price is 
paid me, I will give them up to you." Rincke paid all that 
was demanded. 

Wolsey would now be gratified, for the New Testament 
annoyed him almost as much as the divorce ; this book, so 
dangerous in his eyes, seemed on the point of raising a con- 
flagration which would infallibly consume the edifice of Ro- 
man traditionalism. Rincke, who participated in his patron's 
fears, impatiently opened the volumes made over to him ; 
but there was a sad mistake, they were not the New Testa- 
ment, not even a work of Tyndale's, but one written by 



RINCKE'S MISTAKE. 407 

am Roy, a changeable and violent man, whom the 
reformer had employed for some time at Hamburg, and who 
had followed him to Cologne, but with whom he had soon 
become disgusted. " I bade him farewell for our two lives/' 
said Tyndale, " and a day longer." Roy, on quitting the 
reformer, had gone to Strasburg, where he boasted of his 
relations with him, and had got printed in that city a satire 
against Wolsey and the monastic orders, entitled the Burial 
of the Mass : this was the book delivered to Rincke. The 
monk's sarcastic spirit had exceeded the legitimate bounds 
of controversy, and the senator accordingly dared not send 
the volumes to England. He did not however discontinue 
his inquiries, but searched every place where he thought he 
could discover the New Testament, and having seized all 
the suspected volumes, set off for Cologne.* 

Yet he was not satisfied. He wanted Tyndale, and went 
about asking every one if they knew where to find himr 
But the reformer, whom he was seeking in so many places, 
and especially at Frankfort and Cologne, chanced to be resid- 
ing at about equal distances from these two towns; so that 
Rincke, while travelling from one to the other, might have 
met him face to face, as Ahab's messenger met Elijah.-}- 
Tyndale was at Marburg, whither he had been drawn by 
several motives. Prince Philip of Hesse was the great pro- 
tector of the evangelical doctrines. The university had at- 
tracted attention in the Reform by the paradoxes of Lam- 
bert of Avignon. Here a young Scotsman named Hamil- 
ton, afterwards illustrious as a martyr, had studied shortly 
before, and here too the celebrated printer, John Luft, had 
his presses. In this city Tyndale and Fryth had taken up 
their abode, in September 1528, and, hidden on the quiet 
banks of the Lahn, were translating the Old Testament. If 
Rincke had searched this place he could not have failed to 
discover them. But either he thought not of it, or was 
afraid of the terrible landgrave. The direct road by the 
Rhine was that which he followed, and Tyndale escaped. 

Anderson, Annals of the Bible, i. p. 203 : " I gathered together and 
packed up all the books from every quarter " 
+ 1 Kincs xviii. 7. 



408 WEST'S ANNOYANCES. 

When he arrived at Cologne, Rincke had an immediate 
interview with West. Their investigations having failed, 
they must have recourse to more vigorous measures. The 
senator, therefore, sent the monk back to England, accompa- 
nied by his son Hermann, charging them to tell Wolsey : 
*' To seize Tyndale we require fuller powers, ratified by the 
emperor. The traitors who conspire against the life of the 
king of England are hot tolerated in the empire, much less 
Tyndale and all those who conspire against Christendom. 
He must be put to death ; nothing but some striking ex- 
ample can check the Lutheran heresy. And as to ourselves," 
they were told to add, " by the favour of God there may 
possibly be an opportunity for his royal highness and your 
grace to recompense us."* Rincke had not forgotten the 
subsidy of ten thousand pounds which he had received from 
Henry VII. for the Turkish war, when he had gone to Lon- 
don as Maximilian's envoy. 

West returned to England sorely vexed that he had failed 
in his mission. What would they say at court and in his 
monastery ? A fresh humiliation was in reserve for him. 
Roy, whom West had gone to look for on the banks of the 
Rhine, had paid a visit to his mother on the banks of the 
Thames ; and to crown all, the new doctrines had penetrated 
into his own convent. The warden, Father Robinson, had 
embraced them, and night and day the Greenwich monks 
read that New Testament which West had gone to Cologne 
to burn. The Antwerp friar, who had accompanied him on 
his journey, was the only person to whom he could confide 
his sorrows ; but the Franciscans sent him back again to 
the continent, and then amused themselves at poor West's 
expense. If he desired to tell of his adventures on the 
banks of the Rhine, he was laughed at ; if he boasted of the 
names of Wolsey and Henry VIIL, they jeered him still 
more. He desired to speak to Roy's mother, hoping to gain 
some useful information from her ; this the monks prevented. 
" It is in my commission," he said. They ridiculed him more 
and more. Robinson, perceiving that the commission made 
West assume unbecoming airs of independence, requested 

Cotton MSS., Vitellius, B. xzi. fol, 43. Bible Annals, i. p. 204. 



NECESSITY OF THE REFORMATION. 409 

Wolsey to withdraw it ; and "West, fancying he was about to 
be thrown into prison, exclaimed in alarm : " I am weary of 
my life ! " and conjured a friend whom he had at court to 
procure him before Christmas an obedience under his lord- 
ship's hand and seal, enabling him to leave the monastery : 
" What you pay him for it," he added, " I shall see you be re- 
imbursed." Thus did West expiate the fanatical zeal which 
had urged him to pursue the translator of the oracles of God. 
What became of him, we know not : he is never heard of 
more. 

At that time Wolsey had other matters to engage him 
than this " obedience." While West's complaints were 
going to London, those of the king were travelling to Rome. 
The great business in the cardinal's eyes was to maintain 
harmony between Henry and the church. There was no more 
thought about investigations in Germany, and for a time 
Tyndale was saved. 



CHAPTER V. 

Necessity of the Reformation Wolsey's Earnestness with Da Casale 
An Audience with Clement VII. Cruel Position of the Pope A Judas 
Kiss A new Brief Bryan and Vannes sent to Rome Henry and Du 
Bellay Wolsey's Reasons against the Brief Excitement in London- 
Metamorphosis Wolsey's Decline His Anguish. 

THE king and a part of his people still adhered to the pope- 
dom, and so long as these bonds were not broken the word 
of God could not have free course. But to induce England 
to renounce Rome, there must indeed be powerful motives : 
and these were not wanting. 

Wolsey had never given such pressing orders to any of 
Henry's ambassadors : " The king," he wrote to Da Casale 
on the 1st of November 1528, " commits this business to 
your prudence, dexterity, and fidelity ; and I conjure yoil to 
employ all the powers of your genius, and even to surpass 
them. Be very sure that you have done nothing and can 
18* g 



410 CASALE'S AUDIENCE WITH CLEMENT. 

do nothing that will be more agreeable to the king, more 
desirable by me, and more useful and glorious for you and 
your family." * 

Da Casale possessed a tenacity which justified the cardi- 
nal's confidence, and an active excitable mind : trembling at 
the thought of seeing Rome lose England, he immediately 
requested an audience of Clement VII. " What I " said he 
to the pope, " just as it was proposed to go on with the 

divorce, your nuncio endeavours to dissuade the king! 

There is no hope that Catherine of Aragon will ever give an 
heir to the crown. Holy father, there must be an end of 
this. Order Campeggio to place the decretal in his majesty's 
hands." " What say you ? " exclaimed the pope. " I would 
gladly lose one of my fingers to recover it again, and you 

ask me to make it public it would be my ruin."f Da 

Casale insisted : " We have a duty to perform," he said ; 
rt we remind you at this last hour of the perils threatening 
the relations which unite Rome and England. The crisis is 
at hand. We knock at your door, we cry, we urge, we en- 
treat, we lay before you the present and future dangers 

which threaten the papacy. J The world shall know that 

the king at least has fulfilled the duty of a devoted son of 
the church. If your holiness desires to keep England in St 

Peter's fold, I repeat now is the time now is the 

time." At these words, Da Casale, unable to restrain his 
emotion, fell down at the pope's feet, and begged him to save 
the church in Great Britain. The pope was moved. " Rise," 
said he, with marks of unwonted grief, || " I grant you all 
that is in my power ; I am willing to confirm the judgment 
which the legates may think it their duty to pass ; but I ac- 
quit myself of all responsibility as to the untold evils which 
this matter may bring with it If the king, after having 

* Vobis vestraeque familiae utilius aut hpnorificentius. State Papers, 
vii. p. 1 14. 

t Burnet, Records, ii. p. 20. Unius digiti jactura quod factum fuit 

revocarem. 

J Admonere, exclamare, rogare, instare, urgere, pulsate, pericula prae 
sentia et futura demonstrate. State Papers, yii. p. 112. 

Tempus jam in promptu adest. Ibid. 

!! Burnet's Ref. i. p. 44. Records, p. xx. 



CAMP AN AS MISSION. 4 11 

defended the faith and the church, desires to ruin both, on 
him alone will rest the responsibility of so great a disaster." 
Clement granted nothing. Da Casale withdrew disheartened, 
and feeling convinced that the pontiff was about to treat with 
Charles V. 

Wolsey desired to save the popedom ; but the popedom 
resisted. Clement VII. was about to lose that island which 
Gregory the Great had won with such difficulty. Toe pope 
was in the most cruel position. The English envoy had 
hardly left the palace before the emperor's ambassador en- 
tered breathing threats. The unhappy pontiff escaped the 
assaults of Henry only to be exposed to those of Charles ; 
he was thrown backwards and forwards like a ball. " I 
shall assemble a general council," said the emperor through 
his ambassador, " and if you are found to have infringed 
the canons of the church in any point, you shall be pro- 
ceeded against with every rigour. Do not forget," added his 
agent in a low tone, " that your birth is illegitimate, and 
consequently excludes you from the pontificate." The timid 
Clement, imagining that he saw the tiara falling from his 
head, swore to refuse Henry everything. " Alas ! " he said 
to one of his dearest confidants, " I repent in dust and ashes 
that I ever granted this decretal bull. If the king of Eng- 
land so earnestly desires it to be given him, certainly it can- 
not be merely to know its contents. He is but too familiar 
with them. It is only to tie my hands in this matter of the 
divorce ; I would rather die a thousand deaths." Clement, 
to calm his agitation, sent one of his ablest gentlemen of the 
bed-chamber, Francis Campana, apparently to feed the king 
with fresh promises, but in reality to cut the only thread on 
which Henry's hopes still hung. " We embrace your ma- 
jesty," wrote the pope in the letter given to Campana, " with 
the paternal love your numerous merits deserve." * Now 
Campana was sent to England to burn clandestinely the 
famous decretal ; 7 Clement concealed his blows by an em- 

* Nos ilium paterna charitate complccti, ut sua erga nos atque hanc 
sedem plurirna merita requirunt. State Papers, vii. 116. 

t To charge Campegius to burn the decretal. Herbert, p. 250. Bur- 
net's Ref. i. 47. 



412 SECRET BEIEF OF JULIUS II. 

brace. Rome had granted many divorces not so well founded 
as that of Henry VIII. ; ,but a very different matter from a 
divorce was in question here ; the pope, desirous of uprais- 
ing in Italy his shattered power, was about to sacrifice the 
Tudor, and to prepare the triumph of the Reformation. 
Rome was separating herself from England. 

All Clement's fear was, that Campuna would arrive too 
late to burn the bull; he was soon reassured; a dead calm 
prevented the great matter from advancing. Campeggio, 
who took care to be in no hurry about his mission, gave 
himself up, like a skilful diplomatist, to his worldly tastes; 
and when he could not, due respect being had to the state 
of his legs, indulge in the chase, of which he was very fond, 
he passed his time in gambling, to which he was much 
addicted. Respectable historians assert that he indulged in 
still more illicit pleasures.* But this could not last for ever, 
and the nuncio sought some new means of delay, which 
offered itself in the most unexpected manner. One day an 
officer of the queen's presented to the Roman legate a brief 
of Julius II., bearing the same date as the bull of dispensa- 
tion, signed too, like that, by the secretary Sigismond, and 
in which the pope expressed himself in such a manner, that 
Henry's objections fell of themselves. " The emperor," said 
Catherine's messenger, " has discovered this brief among the 
papers of Puebla, the Spanish ambassador in England, at 
the time of the marriage." " It is impossible to go on," said 
Campeggio to Wolsey; "all your reasoning is now cut from 
under you. We must wait for fresh instructions." This was 
the cardinal's conclusion at every new incident, and the jour- 
ney from London to the Vatican being very long (without 
reckoning the Roman dilatoriness), the expedient was in- 
fallible. 

Thus there existed two acts of the same pope, signed on the 
same day the one secret, the other public, in contradiction 
to each other. Henry determined to send a new mission to 
Rome. Anne proposed for this embassy one of the most 
accomplished gentlemen of the court, her cousin, Sir Francis 

* Hunting and gaming all the day long, and following harlots all the 
night. Burnet, i. p. 52. 



TWO WIVES PROPOSED FOB HENRY. 413 

Bryan. With him was joined an Italian, Peter Vannes, 
Henry's Latin secretary. " You will search all the registers 
of the time of Julius II.," said Wolsey to them; "you will 
study the handwriting of Secretary Sigismond, and you will 
attentively examine the ring of the fisherman used by that 
pontiff.* Moreover, you will inform the pope that it is pro- 
posed to set a certain greyfriar, named De Angelis, in his place, 
to whom Charles would give the spiritual authority, reserving 
the temporal for himself. You will manage so that Clement 
takes alarm at the project, and you will then offer him a 
guard of 2000 men to protect him. You will ask whether, 
in case the queen should desire to embrace a religious life, 
on condition of the king's doing the same, and Henry 
should yield to this wish,f he could have the assurance that 
the pope would afterwards release him from his vows. 
And, finally, you will inquire whether, in case the queen 
should refuse to enter a convent, the pope would permit the 
king to have two wives, as we see in the Old Testament.":}: 
Tbo idea which has brought so much reproach on the land- 
grave of Hesse was not a new one; the honour of it belongs 
to a cardinal and legate of Rome, whatever Bossuet may 
say. " Lastly," continued Wolsey, " as the pope is of a 
timid disposition, you will not fail to season your remon- 
strances with threats. You, Peter, will take Kim aside and 
tell him that, as an Italian, having more at heart than any 
one the glory of the holy se'e, it is your duty to warn him, 
that if he persists, the king, his realm, and many other 
princes, will for ever separate from the papacy." 

It was not on the mind of the pope alone that it was ne- 
cessary to act; the rumour that the emperor and the king 
of France were treating together disturbed Henry. Wolsey 
ad vainly tried to sound Du Bellay; these two priests tried 
craft against craft. Besides, the Frenchman was not always 



* State Papers, vii. p. 126, note. 

t Only thereby to conduce the queen thereunto. Ibid. p. 136, note. 

De dnabus uxoribns. Henry's Instructions to Knight, in the middle 
of December 1 528. Ibid, p 137. Some great reasons and precedents of 
the Old Testament appear, 'astructions to same, 1st Dec. Ibid. p. 136, 
note. 



414 HENRY'S CONFERENCE WITH DU BELLA Y. 

seasonably informed by his court, letters taking ten days to 
come from Paris to London.* Henry resolved to have a 
conference with the ambassador. He began by speaking to 
him of his matter, says Du Bellay, " and I promise you," ho 
added, " that he needs no advocate, he understands the 
whole business so well." Henry next touched upon the 
wrongs of Francis I., " recalling so many things that the 
envoy knew not what to say." " I pray you, Master Am- 
bassador," said Henry in conclusion, " to beg the king, my 
brother, to give up a little of his amusements during a year 
only for the prompt despatch of his affairs. Warn those 
whom it concerns." Having given this spur to the king of 
France, Henry turned his thoughts towards Rome. 

In truth, the fatal brief from Spain tormented him day and 
nighj, and the cardinal tortured his mind to find proofs of 
its non-authenticity; if he could do so, he would acquit the 
papacy of the charge of duplicity, and accuse the emperor of 
forgery. At last he thought he had succeeded. " In the 
first place," he said to the king, " the brief has the same 
date as the bull. Now, if the errors in the latter had been 
found out on the day it was drawn up, it would have been 
more natural to make another than to append a brief point- 
ing out the eiTors. What ! the same pope, the same day, 
at the petition of the same persons, give out two rescripts 
for one effect,-f- one of which contradicts the other ! Either 
the bull was good, and then, why the brief? or the bull was 
bad, and then, why deceive princes by a worthless bull? 
Many names are found in the brief incorrectly spelt, and 
these are faults which the pontifical secretary, whose accu- 
racy is so well known, could not have committed.}: Lastly, 
no one in England ever heard mention of this brief; and yet 
it is here that it ought to be found." Henry charged Knight, 
his principal secretary, to join the other envoys with all 

* La dite lettre du roi, combien qu'elle fut du 3, je 1'ai reyue sinon le 
13 ; le pareil m'advint quasi de toutes autres. Du Bellay to Montmor- 
ency, 20 Dec. Le Grand, Preuves. 

t State Papers, vol. vii. p. 130. 

Queen Isabella was called Elizabeth in the brief ; but I have seen a 
document from the court of Madrid in which Queen Elizabeth of England 
wag called Isabella ; it is not therefore an error without a parallel. 



CHARLES V. TRIUMPHS. 415 

speed, in order to prove to the pope the supposititious char- 
acter of the document. 

This important paper revived the irritation felt in England 
against Charles V., and it was resolved to come to extremi- 
ties. Every one discontented with Austria took refuge in 
London, particularly the Hungarians. The ambassador 
from Hungary proposed to Wolsey to adjudge the imperial 
crown of Germany to the elector of Saxony or the landgrave 
of Hesse, the two chiefs of protestantism.* Wolsey ex- 
claimed in alarm: "It will be an inconvenience to Christen- 
dom, they are so Lutheran." But the Hungarian ambassa- 
dor so satisfied him, that in the end he did not find the 
matter quite so inconvenient. These schemes were pros- 
pering in London, when suddenly a new metamorphosis 
took place under the eyes of Du Bellay. The king, the 
cardinal, and the ministers appeared in strange consterna- 
tion. Vincent da Casale had just arrived from Rome with 
a letter from his cousin the prothonotary, informing Henry 
that the pope, seeing the triumph of Charles V., the inde- 
cision of Francis I., the isolation of the king of England, and 
the distress of his cardinal, had flung himself into the arms 
of the emperor. At Rome they went so far as to jest about 
Wolsey, and to say that since he could not be St Peter they 
would make him St Paul. 

While they were ridiculing Wolsey at Rome, at St Ger- 
main's they were joking about Henry. " I will make him 
get rid of the notions he has in his head," said Francis ; and 
the Flemings, who were again sent out of the country, said 
as they left London, " that this year they would carry on 
the war so vigorously, that it would be really a sight worth 
seeing." 

Besides these public griefs, Wolsey had his private ones. 
Anne Boleyn, who had already begun to use her influence 
on behalf of the despotic cardinal's victims, gave herself no 
rest until Cheyney, a courtier disgraced by Wolsey, had been 
restored to the king's favour. Anne even gave utterance to 
several biting sarcasms against the cardinal, and the duke 

* Du Bellay to Montmorency, 12 Jan. 1529. Le Grand, PreuTas, p. 
279. 



416 WOLSEY'S TROUBLE. 

of Norfolk and his party began " to speak big," says Du 
Bellay. At the moment when the pope, scared by Charles 
V., was separating from England, Wolsey himself was tot- 
tering. Who shall uphold the papacy? After Wolsey, 

nobody! Rome was on the point of losing the power which 
for nine centuries she had exercised in the bosom of this 
illustrious nation. The cardinal's anguish cannot be de- 
scribed; unceasingly pursued by gloomy images, he saw 
Anne on the throne causing, the triumph of the Reformation: 
this nightmare was stifling him. " His grace, the legate, is 
in great trouble," wrote the bishop of Bayonne. " However 

he is more cunning than they are."* 

To still the tempest Wolsey had only one resource left : 
this was to render Clement favourable to his master's de- 
signs. The crafty Campana, who had burnt the decretal, 
conjured him not to believe all the reports transmitted to 
him concerning Rome. " To satisfy the king," said he to 
the cardinal, " the holy father will, if necessary, descend from 
the pontifical throne."f Wolsey therefore resolved to send 
to Rome a more energetic agent than Vannes, Bryan, or 
Knight, and cast his eyes on Gardiner. His courage began 
to revive, when an unexpected event fanned once more his 
loftiest hopes. 



CHAPTER VI. 

The Pope's Illness Wolsey's Desire Conference about the Members of 
the Conclave Wolsey's Instructions The Pope recovers Speech of 
the English Envoys to the Pope Clement willing to abandon England 
The English demand the Pope's Denial of the Brief Wolsey's Alarm 
Intrigues Bryan's Clearsightedness Henry's Threats Wolsey's 
new Efforts He calls for an Appeal to Rome, and retracts Wolsey 
and Du Bellay at Richmond The Ship of the State. 

ON the 6th of January 1529, the feast of Epiphany, just as 
the pope was performing mass, he was attacked by a sudden 

* Le Grand, Preuves, p. 295, 296 
t Burnet, Hist. Rf. vol. i. p. 60 



THE POPE'S ILLNESS GARDINER'S MISSION. 417 

illness; he was taken to his room, apparently in a dying 
state. When this news reached London, the cardinal re- 
solved to hasten to abandon England, where the soil trem- 
bled under his feet, and to climb boldly to the throne of the 
pontiffs. Bryan and Vannes, then at Florence, hurried on 
to Rome through roads infested with robbers. At Orvieto 
they were informed the pope was better ; at Yiterbo, no one 
knew whether he was alive or dead ; at Ronciglione, they were 
assured that he had expired ; and, finally, when they reached 
the metropolis of the popedom, they learnt that Clement could 
not survive, and that the imperialists, supported by the Colon- 
nas, were striving to have a pope devoted to Charles V.* 

But great as might be the agitation at Rome, it was 
greater still at Whitehall. If God caused De' Medici to de- 
scend from the pontifical throne, it could only be, thought 
Wolsey, to make him mount it. "It is expedient to have 
such a pope as may save the realm," said he to Gardiner. 
" And although it cannot but be incommodious to me in this 
mine old age to be the common father, yet, when all things 
be well pondered, the qualities of all the cardinals well con- 
sidered, I am the only one, without boasting, that can and 
will remedy the king's secret matter. And were it not for 
the redintegration of the state of the church, and especially 
to relieve the king and his realm from their calamities, all 
the riches and honour of the world should not cause me to 
accept the said dignity. Nevertheless, I conform myself to 
the necessities of the times. Wherefore, Master Stephen, 
that this matter may succeed, I pray you to apply all your 
ingenuity, spare neither money nor labour. I give you the 
amplest powers, without restriction or limitation.''-]- Gardi- 
ner departed to win for his master the coveted tiara. 

Henry VIII. and Wolsey, who could hardly restrain their 
impatience, soon heard of the pontiff's death from different 
quarters.^ " The emperor has taken away Clement's life,*' 

State Papers, vii. p. 148-150. 

t Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 601. 

By sundry ways hath been advertised of the death of our holy father 
Ibid. The king's Instructions. 

By some detestable act committed for the late pope's destruction 
Ibid. 603 

02 



418 PARTIES AMONG THE CARDINALS. 

said Wolsey, blinded by hatred. " Charles," rejoined the 
king, " will endeavour to obtain by force or fraud a pope ac- 
cording to his desires." " Yes, to make him his chaplain," 
replied Wolsey, " and to put an end by degrees both to pope 
and popedom."* "We must fly to the defence of 'the church," 
resumed Henry, "and with that view, my lord, make up 
your mind to be pope." " That aione," answered the cardi- 
nal, " can bring your Majesty's weighty matter to a happy 

termination, and by saving you, save the church and 

myself also," he thought in his heart. " Let us see, let us 
count the voters." 

Henry and his minister then wrote down on a strip of 
parchment the names of all the cardinals, marking with the 
letter A those who were on the side of the kings of England 
and France, and with the letter B all who favoured the em- 
peror. " There was no C" says a chronicler sarcastically, " to 
signify any on Christ's side." The letter N designated the 
neutrals. " The cardinals present," said Wolsey, " will not 
exceed thirty-nine, and we must have two-thirds, that is, 
twenty-six. Now, there are twenty upon whom we can reckon ; 
we must therefore, at any price, gain six of the neutrals." 

Wolsey, deeply sensible of the importance of an election 
that would decide whether "England was to be reformed or 
not, carefully drew up the instructions, which Henry signed, 
and which history must register. " We desire and ordain," 
the ambassadors were informed in them, " that you secure 
the election of the cardinal of York ; not forgetting that next 
to the salvation of his own soul, there is nothing the king 
desires more earnestly. 

" To gain over the neutral cardinals you will employ two 
methods in particular. The first is, the cardinals being pre- 
sent, and having God and the Holy Ghost before them, you 
shall remind them that the cardinal of York alone can save 
Christendom. 

" The second is, because human fragility suffereth not all 
things to be pondered and weighed in a just balance, it ap- 
pertaineth in matter of so high importance, to the comfort 

* By little and little utterly t . sxclude and extinguish him and his au- 
thority. Foxe, Acts, iv. p. 603. 



MEANS TO GAIN THE TIABA. 419 

and relief of all Christendom, to succour the infirmity that 

may chance not for corruption, you will understand 

but rather to help the lacks and defaults of human nature. 
And, therefore, it shall be expedient that you promise spi- 
ritual offices, dignities, rewards of money, or other things 
which shall seem meet to the purpose. 

" Then shall you, with good dexterity, combine and knit 
those favourable to us in a perfect fastness and indissoluble 
knot. And that they may be the better animated to finish 
the election to the king's desire, you shall offer them a guard 
of 2000 or 3000 men from the kings of England and France, 
from the viscount of Turin, and the republic of Venice. 

" If, notwithstanding all your exertions, the election should 
fail, then the cardinals of the king's shall repair to some sure 
place, and there proceed to such an election as may be to 
God's pleasure. 

" And to win more friends for the king, you shall promise, 
on the one hand, to the Cardinal de' Medici and his party our 
special favour ; and the Florentines, on the other hand, you 
shall put in comfort of the exclusion of the said family De' 
Medici. Likewise you shall put the cardinals in perfect hope 
of recovering the patrimony of the church ; and you shall 
contain the Venetians in good trust of a reasonable way to 
be taken for Cervia and Ravenna (which formed part of the 
patrimony) to their contentment."* 

Such were the means by which the cardinal hoped to win 
the papal throne. To the right he said yes, to the left he 
said no. What would it matter that these perfidies were one 
day discovered, provided it were after the election. Christen- 
dom might be very certain that the choice of the future pon- 
tiff would be the work of the Holy Ghost. Alexander VI. 
had been a poisoner ; Julius II. had given way to ambition, 
anger, and vice ; the liberal Leo X. had passed his life in 
worldly pursuits ; the unhappy Clement VII. had lived on 
stratagems and lies; Wolsey would be their worthy successor: 
a All the seven deadly sins have worn the triple crown." f 

Foxe, iv. p. 604-608. 

t Les sept pe'che's mortels ont port la tiare. Casimir Delavigne, Der 
niers chants, le Conclave. 



420 THE DIVORCE DEMANDED. 

Wolsey found his excuse in the thought, that if he suc- 
ceeded, the divorce was secured, and England enslaved for 
ever to the court of Rome. 

Success at first appeared probable. Many cardinals spoke 
openly in favour of the English prelate ; one of them asked 
for a detailed account of his life, in order to present it as a 
model to the church ; another worshipped him (so he said) 

as a divinity Among the gods and popes adored at Rome 

there were some no better than he. But erelong alarming 
news reached England. What grief ! the pope was getting 
better. " Conceal your instructions," wrote the cardinal, "and 
reserve them in omnem eventum." 

Wolsey not having obtained the tiara, it was necessary at 
least to gain the divorce. " God declares," said the English 
ambassadors to the pope, " Except the Lord build the house, 
they labour in vain that build it.* Therefore, the king, tak- 
ing God alone for his guide, requests of you, in the first place, 
an engagement to pronounce the divorce in the space of three 
months, and in the second the avocation to Rome." " The 
promise first, and only after that the avocation," Wolsey had 
said ; " for I fear that if the pope begins with the avocation, 
he will never pronounce the divorce." " Besides," added the 
envoys, " the king's second marriage admits of no refusal, 
whatever bulls or briefs there may be.-}- The only issue of 
this matter is the divorce ; the divorce in one way or another 
must be procured." 

Wolsey had instructed his envoys to pronounce these 
words with a certain air of familiarity, and at the same time 
with a gravity calculated to produce an effect.:): His expecta- 
tions were deceived: Clement was colder than ever. He had 
determined to abandon England in order that he might secure 
the States of the Church, of which Charles was then master, 
thus sacrificing the spiritual to the temporal. " The pope 
will not do the least thing for your majesty," wrote Bryan to 

* Where Christ is not the foundation, surely no building can be of good 
work. State Papers, vii. p. 122. 

p Convolare ad secundas nuptias non patitur negativum. Ibid. p. 138. 

$ Which words, fashioned with a familiarity and somewhat with ear- 
nestness and gravity. Ibid. 



THE rOPi/S PATER AND CREDO. 421 

the king ; " your matter may well be in his Pater noster, but 
it certainly is not in his Credo"* " Increase in importunity," 
answered the king ; " the cardinal of Verona should remain 
about the pope's person and counterbalance the influence of 
De Angelis and the archbishop of Capua. I would rather 
lose my two crowns than be beaten by these two friars." 

Thus was the struggle about to become keener than ever, 
when Clement's relapse once more threw doubt on everything. 
He was always between life and death ; and this perpetual 
alternation agitated the king and the impatient cardinal in 
every way. The latter considered that the pope had need of 
merits to enter the kingdom of heaven. " Procure an inter- 
view with the pope," he wrote to the envoys, " even though 
he be in the very agony of death ; { and represent to him 
that nothing will be more likely to save his soul than the bill 
of divorce." Henry's commissioners were not admitted ; but 
towards the end of March, the deputies appearing in a body,| 
the pope promised to examine the letter from Spain. Vannes 
began to fear this document ; he represented that those who 
had fabricated it would have been able to give it an appear- 
ance of authenticity. " Rather declare immediately that this 
brief is not a brief," said he to the pope. " The king of 
England, who is your holiness's son, is not so like the rest of 
the world. We cannot put the same shoe on every foot." 
This rather vulgar argument did not touch Clement. " If to 
content your master in this business," said he, " I cannot 
employ my head, at least I will my finger." || " Be pleased 
to explain yourself," replied Vannes, who found ihefaiffer a 
very little matter. " I mean," resumed the pontiff, " that I 
shall employ every means, provided they are honourable" 
Vannes withdrew disheartened. 

He immediately conferred with his colleagues, and all to- 
gether, alarmed at the idea of Henry's anger, returned to the 
pontiff; they thrust aside the lackeys, who endeavoured to 

" State Papers, TO!, i. p. 330. 
+ Burnet's Ref. i. p. 49. 

J Postquam conjunctim omnes. State Papers, vii. p. 154. 
Uno eodemque calceo omnium pedes velle ve&tire. Ibid. p. 156. 
|| Quod forsan non licebit toto capite assequi, in eo digitum imponam. 
Ibid. p. 157. 



422 STRATAGEMS AND DELAYS. 

stop them, and made their way into his bedchamber. Cle- 
ment opposed them with that resistance of inertia by which 
the popedom has gained its greatest victories : siluit, he re- 
mained silent. Of what consequence to the pontiff were 
Tudor, his island, and his church, when Charles of Austria 
was threatening him with his armies ? Clement, less proud 
than Hildebrand, submitted willingly to the emperor's power, 
provided the emperor would protect him. " I had rather," 
he said, " be Caesar's servant, not only in a temple, but in a 
stable if necessary, than be exposed to the insults of rebels 
and vagabonds."* At the same time he wrote to Campeggio : 
" Do not irritate the king, but spin out this matter as much 
as possible ;-f- the Spanish brief gives us the means." 

In fact, Charles V. had twice shown Lee the original do- 
cument, and Wolsey, after this ambassador's report, began 
to believe that it was not Charles who had forged the brief, 
but that Pope Julius II. had really given two contradictory 
documents on the same day. Accordingly the cardinal now 
feared to see this letter in the pontiffs hands. " Do all you 
can to dissuade the pope from seeking the original in Spain," 
wrote he to one of his ambassadors ; " it may exasperate the 
emperor." We know how cautious the cardinal was towards 
Charles. Intrigue attained its highest point at this epoch, 
and Englishmen and Romans encountered craft with craft. 
" In such ticklish negotiations," says Burnet, (who had had 
some little experience in diplomacy,) "ministers must say and 
unsay as they are instructed, which goes of course as a part of 
their business." J Henry's envoys to the pope intercepted 
the letters sent from Rome, and had Campeggio's seized. 
On his part the pope indulged in flattering smiles and perfi- 
dious equivocations. Bryan wrote to Henry VIII. : " Al- 
ways your grace hath done for him in deeds, and he hath 
recompensed you with fair words and fair writings, of which 
both I think your grace shall lack none ; but as for the deeds, 

* Malle Csesari a stabulo nedum a sacris inservire, quam inferiorum 
hominum subditorum, vassalorum, rebellium 111 jurias sustinere. Herbert, 
vol. i. p. 261. 

f Le Grand, ol. i. x>. 131. 

J Burnet's Ref. rol. 1. p. 54. 

De intercipiendis literis. State Papers, vol. vii. p. 185. 



HENRY RECALLS HIS AMBASSADORS. 423 

I never believe to see them, and especially at this time."* 
Bryan had comprehended the court of Rome better perhaps 
than many politicians. Finally, Clement himself, wishing to 
prepare the king for the blow he was about to inflict, wrote 
to him : " We have been able to find nothing that would 
satisfy your ambassadors." -j- 

Henry thought he knew what this message meant : that 
he had found nothing, and would find nothing ; and accord- 
ingly this prince, who, if we may believe Wolsey, had hitherto 
shown incredible patience and gentleness, \ gave way to all 
his violence. " Very well then," said he ; " my lords and I 
well know how to withdraw ourselves from the authority 01 
the Roman see." Wolsey turned pale, and conjured his 
master not to rush into that fearful abyss ; Campeggio, too, 
endeavoured to revive the king's hopes. But it was all of 
no use. Henry recalled his ambassadors. 

Henry, it is true, had not yet reached the age when violent 
characters become inflexible from the habit they have en- 
couraged of yielding to their passions. But the cardinal, who 
knew his master, knew also that his inflexibility did not de- 
pend upon the number of his years ; he thought Rome's 
power in England was lost, and, placed between Henry and 
Clement, he exclaimed : " How shall I avoid Scylla, and not 
fall into Charybdis ? " || He begged the king to make one last 
effort by sending Dr Bennet to the pope with orders to sup- 
port the avocation to Rome, and he gave him a letter in 
which he displayed all the resources of his eloquence. " How 
can it be imagined," he wrote, " that the persuasions of sense 
urge the king to break a union in which the ardent years of 

his youth were passed with such purity ?^[ The matter is 

very different. I am on the spot, I know the state of men's 
minds Pray, believe me The divorce is the secondary 

* State Papers, vol. vii. p. 167. 

f He added : Tametsi noctes ac dies per nos ipsi, ac per juris-peritis- 
simos viros omnes vias tent emus. Ibid. p. 165. 

Incredibili patientia et humanitate. Burnet, Records, p. xxxii. 

Ne prteceps hue vel illuc rex hie ruat curamus. Ibid. p. xxxiii. 

I) Hanc Charybdin et hos scopulos evitasse. Ibid. p. xxxii. 

I Sensuum suadela earn abrumpere cupiat cousuetudiiiem Ibid p. 
xxxiii. 



424 WOLSEYS EARNESTNESS. 

question ; the primary one is the fidelity of this realm to the 
iiapal see. The nobility, gentry, and citizens all exclaim 
with indignation : Must our fortunes, and even our lives, 
depend upon the nod of a foreigner ? We must abolish, or 
at the very least diminish, the authority of the Roman pon- 
tiff.* Most holy father, we cannot mention such things 

without a shudder." This new attempt was also unavail- 
ing. The pope demanded of Henry how he could doubt his 
good will, seeing that the king of England had done so much 
for the apostolic see. f This appeared a cruel irony to Tudor ; 
the king requested a favour of the pope, and the pope replied 
by calling to mind those which the papacy had received from 
his hands. " Is this the way," men asked in England, " in 
which Rome pays her debts ?" 

Wolsey had not reached the term of his misfortunes. 
Gardiner and Bryan had just returned to London : they de- 
clared that to demand an avocation to Rome was to lose 
their cause. Accordingly Wolsey, who turned to every wind, 
ordered Da Casale, in case Clement should pronounce the 
avocation, to appeal from the pope, the false head of the 
church, to the true vicar of Jesus Christ.]. This was almost 
in Luther's style. Who was this true vicar ? Probably a 
pope nominated by the influence of England. 

But this proceeding did not assure the cardinal : he was 
losing his judgment. A short time before this Du Bellay, 
who had just returned from Paris, whither he had gone to 
retain France on the side of England, had been invited to 
Richmond by Wolsey. As the two prelates were walking 
in the park, on that hill whence the eye ranges over the fer- 
tile and undulating fields through which the winding Thames 
pours its tranquil waters, the unhappy cardinal observed to 

the bishop : " My trouble is the greatest that ever was ! 

I have excited and carried on this matter of the divorce, to 
dissolve the union between the two houses of Spain and 

* Qui nullam aut certe diminutam hie Romani pontificis auctoritatem. 
Burnet, Records, p. xxxiii. 

+ Dubitare non debes si quidem volueris recordare tua erga nos merita. 
State Papers, vii. p. 178. 

J A non vieario ad vp-rum vicarium Jesu Christi. Ibid. p. 191. 



WOLSEY'S GRIEF. 425 

England, by sowing misunderstanding between them, as if I 
had no part in it.* You know it was in the interest of 
France ; I therefore entreat the king your master and her 
majesty to do everything that may forward the divorce. I 
shall esteem such a favour more than if they made me pope ; 
but if they refuse me, my ruin is inevitable." And then 
giving way to despair, he exclaimed : " Alas ! would that I 
were going to be buried to-morrow!" 

The wretched man was drinking the bitter cup his perfi- 
dies had prepared for him. All seemed to conspire against 
Henry, and Bennet was recalled shortly after. It was said 
at court and in the city : " Since the pope sacrifices us to the 
emperor, let us sacrifice the pope." Clement VII., intimi- 
dated by the threats of Charles V., and tottering upon his 
throne, madly repelled with his foot the bark of England. 
Europe was all attention, and began to think that the proud 
vessel of Albion, cutting the cable that bound her to the 
pontiffs, would boldly spread her canvass to the winds, and 
ever after sail the sea alone, wafted onwards* by the breeze 
that comes from heaven. 

The influence of Rome over Europe is in great measure 
political. Jt loses a kingdom by a royal quarrel, and might 
in this same way lose ten. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Discussion between tlie Evangelicals and the Catholics Union of Learn- 
ing and Life The Laity : Tewkesbury His Appearance before the 
Bishop's Court He is tortured Two Classes of Opponents A Theo- 
logical Duel Scripture and the Church Emancipation of the Mind 
Mission to the Low Countries Tyndale's Embarrassment Tonstall 
wishes to buy the Books Packington's Stratagem Tyndale departs 
for Antwerp His Shipwreck Arrival at Hamburg Meets Coverdale. 

OTHER circumstances from day to day rendered the emanci- 
pation of the church more necessary. If behind these 

* Du Bellay to Montmorancy, 22d May. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 319. 
VOL. T. 1 9 



426 EVANGELICALS AND CATHOLICS. 

political debates there had not been found a Christian people, 
resolved never to temporize with error, it is probable that 
England, after a few years of independence, would have 
fallen back into the bosom of Rome. The affair of the 
divorce was not the only one agitating men's minds ; the 
religious controversies, which for some years filled the con- 
tinent, were always more animated at Oxford and Cam- 
bridge. The Evangelicals and the Catholics (not very 
catholic indeed) warmly discussed the great questions which 
the progress of events brought before the world. The for- 
mer maintained that the primitive church of the apostles 
and the actual church of the papacy were not identical ; the 
latter affirmed, on the contrary, the identity of popery and 
apostolic Christianity. Other Romish doctors in later times, 
finding this position somewhat embarrassing, have asserted 
that Catholicism existed only in the germ in the apostolic 
church, and had subsequently developed itself. But a 
thousand abuses, a thousand errors may creep into a church 
under cover of this theory. A plant springs from the seed 
and grows up in accordance with immutable laws ; whilst a 
doctrine cannot be transformed in the mind of man without 
falling under the influence of sin. It is true that the dis- 
ciples of popery have supposed a constant action of the 
Divine Spirit in the Catholic Church, which excludes every 
influence of error. To stamp on the development of the 
church the character of truth, they have stamped on the 
church itself the character of infallibility ; quod erat demon- 
strandum. Their reasoning is a mere begging of the ques- 
tion. To know whether the Romish development is identical 
with the gospel, we must examine it by Scripture. 

It was not university men alone who occupied themselves 
with Christian truth. The separation which has been re- 
marked in other times between the opinions of the people 
and of the learned, did not now exist. What the doctors 
taught, the citizens practised ; Oxford and London embraced 
each other. The theologians knew that learning has need 
of life, and the citizens believed that life has need of that 
learning which derives the doctrine from the wells of the 
Scriptures of God. It was the harmony between these two 



. KNOWLEDGE AND LIFE. 427 

elements, the one theological, the other practical, which con- 
stituted the strength of the English reformation. 

The evangelical life in the capital alarmed the clergy- 
more than the evangelical doctrine in the colleges. Since 
Monmouth had escaped, they must sjjike another. Amqng 
the London merchants was John Tewkesbury, one of the 
oldest friends of the Scriptures in England. As early as 
1512 he had become possessor of a manuscript copy of the 
Bible, and had attentively studied it ; when Tyndale's New 
Testament appeared, he read it with avidity ; and, finally, 
The Wicked Mammon had completed the work of his con- 
version. Being a man of heart and understanding, clever 
in all he undertook, a ready and fluent speaker, and liking 
to get to the bottom of everything, Tewkesbury like Mon- 
mouth became very influential in the city, and one of the 
most learned in Scripture of any of the evangelicals. These 
generous Christians, being determined to consecrate to God 
the good things they had received from him, were the first 
among that long series of laymen who were destined to be 
more useful to the truth than many ministers and bishops. 
They found time to interest themselves about the most 
trifling details of the kingdom of God ; and in the history of 
the Reformation in Britain their names should be inscribed 
beside those of Latimer and Tyndale. 

The activity of these laymen could not escape the cardi- 
nal's notice. Clement VII. was abandoning England : it 
was necessary for the English bishops, by crushing the 
heretics, to show that they would not abandon the popedom. 
We can understand the zeal of these prelates, and without 
excusing their persecutions, we are disposed to extenuate 
their crime. The bishops determined to ruin Tewkesbury. 
One day in April 1529, as he was busy among his peltries, 
the officers entered his warehouse, arrested him, and led him 
away to the bishop of London's chapel, where, besides the 
ordinary (Tonstall), the bishops of Ely, St Asaph, Bath, and 
Lincoln, with the abbot of Westminster, were on the bench. 
The composition of this tribunal indicated the importance of 
his case, The emancipation of the laity, thought these 



42 R . TEWKESBURY BEFORE THE BISHOJ>S. 

judges, is perhaps a more dangerous heresy than justifica- 
tion by faith. 

"John Tewkesbury," said the bishop of London, " I 
exhort you to trust less to your own wit and learning, and 
more unto the doctrine of the holy mother the church." 
Tewkesbury made answer, that in his judgment he held no 
other doctrine than that of the church of Christ. Tonstall 
then broached the principal charge, that of having read the 
Wicked Mammon, and after quoting several passages, he 
exclaimed : " Renounce these errors." " I find no fault in 
the book," replied Tewkesbury. " It has enlightened my 
conscience and consoled my heart. But it is not my gospel. 
I have studied the Holy Scriptures these seventeen years, and 
as a man sees the spots of his face in a glass, so by reading 
them I have learnt the faults of my soul.* If there is a dis- 
agreement between you and the New Testament, put yourselves 
in harmony with it, rather than desire to put that in accord 
with you." The bishops were surprised that a leather- 
seller should speak so well, and quote Scripture so happily 
that they were unable to resist him.-j- Annoyed at being 
catechised by a layman, the bishops of Bath, St Asaph, and 
Lincoln thought they could conquer him more easily by the 
rack than by their arguments. He was taken to the Tower, 
where they ordered him to be put to the torture. His limbs 
were crushed, which was contrary to the laws of England, 
and the violence of the rack tore from him a cry of agony 
to which the priests replied by a shout of exultation. The 
inflexible merchant had promised at last to renounce Tyn- 
dale's Wicked Mammon. Tewkesbury left the Tower 
" almost a cripple," J and returned to his house to lament 
the fatal word which the question had extorted from him, 
and to prepare in the silence of faith to confess in the burn- 
ing pile the precious name of Christ Jesus. 

We must, however, acknowledge that the "question" was 

not Rome's only argument. The gospel had two classes of 

opponents in the sixteenth century, as in the first ages of the 

church. Some attacked it with the torture, others with their 

Foxe, iv. p. 690. f Ibid. p. 689. $ Ibid. 



MOKE'S ATTACK ON TYXDALE. 429 

writings. Sir Thomas More, a few years later, was to have 
recourse to the first of these arguments ; but for the moment 
he took up his pen. He had first studied the writings of 
the Fathers of the church, and of the Reformers, but rather 
as an advocate than as a theologian ; and then, armed at all 
points, he rushed into the arena of polemics, and in his at- 
tacks dealt those " technical convictions and that malevolent 
subtlety," says one of his greatest admirers,* " from which 
the honestest men of his profession are not free." Jests and 
sarcasms had fallen from his pen in his discussion with 
Tyndale, as in his controversy with Luther. Shortly after 
Tevvkesbury's affair (in June 1529) there appeared A Dia- 
logue of Sir Thomas More, Knt., touching the pestilent Sect 
of Luther and Tyndale, by the one begun in Saxony, and by 
the other laboured to be brought into England.-^ 

Tyndale soon became informed of More's publication, and 
a remarkable combat ensued between these two representa- 
tives of the two doctrines that were destined to divide 
Christendom Tyndale the champion of Scripture, and More 
the champion of the church. More having called his book a 
dialogue, Tyndale adopted this form in his reply,! an ^ l ' ie two 
combatants valiantly crossed their swords, though wide seas 
lay between them. This theological duel is not without im- 
portance in the history of the Reformation. The struggles 
of diplomacy, of sacerdotalism, and of royalty were not 
enough ; there must be struggles of doctrine. Rome had set 
the hierarchy above the faith ; the Reformation was to restore 
faith to its place above the hierarchy. 

MORE. Christ said not, the Holy Ghost shall write, but 
shall teach. Whatsoever the church says, it is the word of 
God, though it be not in Scripture. 

TYNDALE. "What! Christ and the apostles not spoken of 
Scriptures'. These are written, says St John, that ye 

* Nisard, Homines illustres de la renaissance. Revue des Deux 
Afondes. 

+ The Dialogue consisted of 250 pages, and was printed by John Ras- 
tell, More's brother-in-law. Tyndale's answer did not appear autil later ; 
we have thought it our duty to introduce it here. 

f Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue. 



430 A THEOLOGICAL 

believe, and through belief have life. (1 John ii. 1 ; Rom. 
xv. 4 ; Matthew xxii. 29.)* 

MOKE. The apostles have taught by mouth many things 
they did not write, because they should not come into the 
hands of the heathen for mocking. 

TYNDALE. I pray you what thing more to be mocked by 
the heathen could they teach than the resurrection ; and that 
Christ was God and man, and died between two thieves ? 
And yet all these things the apostles wrote. And again, 
purgatory, penance, and satisfaction for sin, and praying to 
saints, are marvellous agreeable unto the superstition of the 
heathen people, so that they need not to abstain from writ- 
ing of them for fear lest the heathen should have mocked 
them.-}- 

MORE. We must not examine the teaching of the church 
by Scripture, but understand Scripture by means of what 
the church says. 

TYNDALE. What ! Does the air give light to the sun, or 
the sun to the air? Is the church before the gospel, or the 
gospel before the church ? Is not the father older than the 
son ? God begat us with his own ivill, with the word of truth, 
says St James (i. 18.) If he who begetteth is before him 
who is begotten, the word is before the church, or, to speak 
more correctly, before the congregation. 

MOUE. Why do you say congregation and not church ? 

TYNDALE. Because by that word church, you understand 
nothing but a multitude of shorn and oiled, which we now 
call the spirituality or clergy ; while the word of right is 
common unto all the congregation of them that believe in 
Christ.f 

MORE. The church is the pope and his sect or followers. 

TYNDALE. The pope teacheth us to trust in holy works 
for salvation, as penance, saints' merits, and friars' coats. 
Now, he that hath no faith to be saved through Christ, is 
not of Christ's church. || 

MORE. The Romish church from which the Lutherans 
came out, was before them, and therefore is the right one. 

* Answer to Sir Thomas More's Dialogue, p. 101. 

r Ibid. p. 28, 29, J Ibid. p. 12, 13. Ibid. p. 40. 11 Ibid. p. 39. 



APOSTLES AND REFORMERS. 431 

TYNDALE. In like manner you may say, the church of the 
Pharisees, whence Christ and his apostles came out, was 
before them, and was therefore the right church, and conse- 
quently Christ and his disciples are heretics. 

MORE. No : the apostles came out from the church of the 
Pharisees because they found not Christ there; but your 
priests in Germany and elsewhere have come out of our 
church because they wanted wives. 

TYXDALE. Wrong these priests were at first at- 
tached to what you call heresies, and then they took wives ; 
but yours were first attached to the holy doctrine of the pope, 
and then they took harlots.* 

MORE. Luther's books be open, if ye will not believe us. 

TYNDALE. Nay, ye have shut them up, and have even 
burnt them.f 

MORE. I marvel that you deny purgatory, Sir William, 
except it be a plain point with you to go straight to hell.J 

TYXDALE. I know no other purging but faith in the cross 
of Christ ; while you, for a groat or a sixpence, buy some 
secret pills [indulgences] which you take to purge yourselves 
of your sins. 

MORE. Faith, then, is your purgatory, you say ; there is 
no need, therefore, of works a most immoral doctrine ! 

TYNDALE. It is faith alone that saves us, but not a bare 
faith. When a horse beareth a saddle and a man thereon, 
we may well say that the horse only and alone beareth the 
saddle, but we do not mean the saddle empty, and no man 
thereon. || 

In this manner did the catholic and the evangelical carry 
on the discussion. According to Tyndale, what constitutes 
the true church is the work of the Holy Ghost within ; ac- 
cording to More, the constitution of the papacy without. 
The spiritual character of the gospel is thus put in opposi- 
tion to the formalist character of the Roman church. The 
Reformation restored to our belief the solid foundation of the 
word of God ; for the sand it substituted the rock. In the 
discussion to which we have just been listening, the advan- 

* Answer to Sir Thomas Mare's Dialogue, p. 104. 

t Ibid. p. 189. J Ibid. p. 214. Ibid. || Ibid. p. 197 



432 TREATY AQAJSST LUTHERAN BOOKS. 

tage remained not with the catholic. Erasmus, a friend of 
More s, embarrassed by the course the latter was taking, 
wrote to Tonstall : " I cannot heartily congratulate More."* 

Henry interrupted the celebrated knight in these contests 
to send him to Cambray, where a peace was negotiating be- 
tween France and the empire. Wolsey would have been 
pleased to go himself; but his enemies suggested to the king, 
" that it was only that he might not expedite the matter of 
the divorce." Henry, therefore, despatched More, Knight, 
and Tonstall ; but Wolsey had created so many delays that 
they did not arrive until after the conclusion of the Ladies' 
Peace (August 1529). The king's vexation was extreme. 
Du Bellay had in vain helped him to spend a good prepara- 
tory July to make him swallow the dose.-\- Henry was angry 
with Wolsey, Wolsey threw the blame on the ambassador, 
and the ambassador defended himself, he tells us, "with 
tooth and nail." J 

By way of compensation, the English envoys concluded 
with the emperor a 'treaty prohibiting on both sides the 
printing and sale of " any Lutheran books." Some of 
them could have wished for a good persecution, for a few 
burning piles, it may be. A singular opportunity occurred. 
In the spring of 1529, Tyndale and Fryth had left Mar- 
burg for Antwerp, and were thus in the vicinity of the Eng- 
lish envoys. What West had been unable to effect, it was 
thought the two most intelligent men in Britain could not 
fail to accomplish. " Tyndale must be captured," said More 
and Tonstall. y You do not know what sort of a country 
you are in," replied Hackett. " Will you believe that on the 
7th of April, Harman arrested me at Antwerp for damages, 
caused by his imprisonment ? If you can lay anything to 
my charge as a private individual, I said to the officer, I am 
ready to answer for myself; but if you arrest me as ambassa- 
dor, I know no judge but the emperor. Upon which ths 
procurator had the audacity to reply, that I was arrested 

* Thomso More non admodum gratulor. Erasm. Epp. p. 1478. 
f- Juillet pre"paratoire pour lui faire avaler la me'decine. 
J Du bee et des ongles. Du Bellay to Mortmorenoy. Le Grand, ill 
p. 328. Herbert, p. 316. 



TYNDALE'S DANGER. 433 

as ambassador ; and the lords of Antwerp only set me at 
liberty on condition that I should appear again at the first 
summons.* These merchants are so proud of their fran- 
chises, that they would resist even Charles himself." This 
anecdote was not at all calculated to encourage More ; and 
not caring about a pursuit, which promised to be of little 
use, he returned to England. But the bishop of London, 
who was left behind, persisted in the project, and repaired 
to Antwerp to put it in execution. 

Tyndale was at that time greatly embarrassed ; consid- 
erable debts, incurred with his printers, compelled him to 
suspend his labours. Nor was this all: the prelate who 
had spurned him so harshly in London, had just arrived in 
the very city where he lay concealed* What would be- 
come of him? A merchant, named Augustin Packing- 
ton, a clever man, but somewhat inclined to dissimulation, 
happening to be at Antwerp on business, hastened to pay 
his respects to the bishop. The latter observed, in the 
course of conversation : " I should like to get hold of the 
books with which England is poisoned." " I can perhaps 
serve you in that matter," replied the merchant. " I know 
the Flemings, who have bought Tyndale's books ; so that 
if your lordship will be pleased to pay for them, I will make 
sure of them all." " Oh, oh!" thought the bishop, "Now, 
as the proverb says, I shall have God by the toe.-}- Gentle 
Master Packington," he added in a flattering tone, " I will 
pay for them whatsoever they cost you. I intend to burn 
them at St Paul's cross." The bishop, having his hand 
already on Tyndale's Testaments, fancied himself on the 
point of seizing Tyndale himself. 

Packington, being one of those men who love to concil- 
iate all parties, ran off to Tyndale, with whom he was inti- 
mate, and said : " William, I know you are a poor man, 
and have a heap of New Testaments and books by you, for 
which you have beggared yourself; and I have now found 
a merchant who will buy them all, and with ready money 

* Hackett to Wolsoy, Brussels, 13th April, 1529. Bible Annala, voL i. 
p. 199. 
f Foie, ir. p. 670. 

* 



434 TYNDALE SHIPWRECKED. 

too."" Who is the merchant ?" said Tyndale. " The bishop 

of London." "Tonstall? If he buys my books, it can 

only be to burn them." " No doubt," answered Packing- 
ton ; " but what will he gain by it ? The whole world will 
cry out against the priest who burns God's word, and the 
eyes of many will be opened. Come, make up your mind, 
William ; the bishop shall have the books, you the money, 

and I the thanks." Tyndale resisted the proposal ; Pack- 

ington became more pressing. "The question comes to 
this," he said ; " shall the bishop pay for the books or shall 

he not? for, make up your mind he will have them." 

" I consent," said the reformer at last ; " I shall pay my 
debts, and bring out a new and more correct edition of the 
Testament." The -bargain was made. 

Erelong the danger thickened around Tyndale. Placards, 
posted at Antwerp and throughout the province, announced 
that the emperor, in conformity with the treaty of Cambray, 
was about to proceed against the reformers and their writ- 
ings. Not an officer of justice appeared in the street but 
Tyndale's friends trembled for his liberty. Under such cir- 
cumstances, how <;ould he print his translation of Genesis 
and Deuteronomy ? He made up his mind about the end 
of August to go to Hamburg, and took his passage in a ves- 
sel loading for that port. Embarking with his books, his 
manuscripts, and the rest of his money, he glided down the 
Scheldt, and soon found himself afloat on the German Ocean. 

But one danger followed close upon another. He had 
scarcely passed the mouth of the Meuse when a tempest 
burst upon him, and his ship, like that of old which bore St 
Paul, was almost swallowed up by the waves. " Satan, 
envying the happy course and success of the gospel," says a 
chronicler, " set to his might how to hinder the blessed la- 
bours of this man."* The seamen toiled, Tyndale prayed, 
all hope was lost. The reformer alone was full of courage, 
not doubting that God would preserve him for the accom- 
plishment of his work. All the exertions of the crew proved 
useless ; the vessel was dashed on the coast, and the passen- 
gers escaped with their lives. Tyndale gazed with sorrow 
* Foxe, v. p. 120. 



TYNDALE AND COVERDALE AT HAMBURG. 435 

upon that ocean which had swallowed up his beloved books 
and precious manuscripts, and deprived him of his resources.* 
"What labours, Avhat perils ! banishment, poverty, thirst, in- 
sults, watchings, persecution, imprisonment, the stake! 

Like Paul, he was in perils by his own countrymen, in perils 
among strange people, in perils in the city, in perils in the 
sea. Recovering his spirits, however, he went on board an- 
other ship, entered the Elbe, and at last reached Hamburg. 

Great joy was in store for him in, that city. Coverdale, 
Foxe informs us, was waiting there to confer with him and 
to help him in his labours.-J- It has been supposed that 
Coverdale went to Hamburg to invite Tyndale, in Crom- 
well's name, to return to England ;J but it is merely a con- 
jecture, and requires confirmation. As early as 1527, Co- 
verdale had made known to Cromwell his desire to translate 
the Scriptures. It was natural that, meeting with difficul- 
ties in this undertaking, he should desire to converse with 
Tyndale. The two friends lodged with a^ pious woman 
named Margaret van Emmersen, and spent some time to- 
gether in the autumn of 1529, undisturbed by the sweating 
sickness which was making such cruel havoc all around 
them. Coverdale returned to England shortly after; the 
two reformers had, no doubt, discovered that it was better 
for each of them to translate the Scriptures separately. 

Before Coverdale's return, Tonstall had gone back to 
London, exulting at carrying with him the books he had 
bought so dearly. But when he reached the capital, he 
thought he had better defer the meditated auto dafe until 
some striking event should give it increased importance. 
And besides, just at that moment, very different matters were 
engaging public attention on the banks of the Thames, and 
the liveliest emotions agitated every mind. 

Lost both his money, his copies Foxe, v. p. 120. 

f Coverdale tarried for him and helped him. Ibid. 

J Anderson's Annals of the Bible, i. p. 240. 

This is the date assigned in Coverdale's Remains (Park. Soc.), p. 490. 



436 THE ROYAL SESSION. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The Royal Session Sitting of the 18th June ; the Queen's Protest- 
Sitting of the 21st June Summons to the King and Queen Catherine's 
Speech She retires Impression on the Audience The King's Decla- 
ration Wolsey's Protest Quarrel between the Bishops New Sitting 
Apparition to the Maid of Kent Wolsey chafed by Henry Tho 
Earl of Wiltshire at Wolsey 'a Private Conference between Catherine 
and the two Legates. 

AFFAIRS had changed in England during the absence of 
Tonstall and More; and even before their departure, events 
of a certain importance had occurred. Henry, finding there 
was nothing more to hope from Rome, had turned to Wolsey 
and Campeggio. The Roman nuncio had succeeded in de- 
ceiving the king. " Campeggio is very different from what 
he is reported," said Henry to his friends; " he is not for the 
emperor as I was told; I have said somewhat to him which 
has changed his mind."* No doubt he had made some 
brilliant promise. 

Henry therefore, imagining himself sure of his two legates, 
desired them to proceed with the matter of the divorce with- 
out delay. There was no time to lose, for the king was in- 
formed that the pope was on the point of recalling the 
commission given to the two cardinals; and as early as the 
19th of March, Salviati, the pope's uncle and secretary of 
state, wrote to Campeggio about it.-f Henry's process, once 
in the court of the pontifical chancery, it would have been 
long before it got out again. Accordingly, on the 31st of 
May, the king, by a warrant under the great seal, gave the 
legates leave to execute their commission, "without any 
regard to his own person, and having the fear of God only 
before their eyes."|: The legates themselves had suggested 
this formula to the king. 

* Bumet, Records, p. xxxv. 

+ E quanto altro non si possa, forse si pensera ad avvocare la causa a 
66. Lettere di XIII. uomini illustri, 19th March 1529. 
$ Ut eolum Deuua prae oculis habentis, Rymer, Acta ad annum. 



THE COMMISSION OPENED THE QUEEN PROTESTS. 437 

On the same day the commission was opened; but to be- 
gin the process was not to end it. Every letter which the 
nuncio received forbade him to do so in the most positive 
manner. " Advance slowly and never finish," were Cle- 
ment's instructions.* The trial was to be a farce, played by 
a pope and two cardinals. 

The ecclesiastical court met in the great hall of the Black- 
friars, commonly called the "parliament chamber." The 
two legates having successively taken the commission in 
their hands, devoutly declared that they were resolved to 
execute it (they should have said, to elude k), made the 
required oaths, and ordered a peremptory citation of the 
king and queen to appear on the 18th of June at nine in the 
morning. . Campeggio was eager to proceed slowly; the 
session was adjourned for three weeks. The citation caused 
4 a great stir among the people. "What!" said they, "a 
king and a queen constrained to appear, in their own realm, 
before their own subjects." The papacy set an example 
which was to be strictly followed in after-years both in 
England and in France. 

On the 18th of June, Catherine appeared before the com- 
mission in the parliament chamber, and stepping forward 
with dignity, said with a firm voice: "I protest against 
the legates as incompetent judges, and appeal to the pope."-{- 
This proceeding of the queen's, her pride and firmness, 
troubled her enemies, and in their vexation they grew exas- 
perated against her. "Instead of praying God to bring 
this matter to a good conclusion," they said, " she endeav- 
ours to turn away the people's affections from the king. 
Instead of showing Henry the love of a youthful wife, she 
keeps away from him night and day. There is even cause 
to fear," they added, " that she is in concert with certain 
individuals who have formed the horrible design of killing 
the king and the cardinal." J But persons of generous 

* Sua bcatitudine ricorda, che il procedere sia lento ed in modo alcuno 
non si venghi al giudicio. To Card. Campeggio, 29th May 1529. Lett, 
di Principi. 

f- So in illos tanquam judices suos uon assentire, rvd papam provocavit, 
Sanders, p. 32. 

J Burnet's Kef. i. p. 54. 



438 A ROYAL SITTING. 

heart, seeing only a queen, a wife, and a mother, attacked 
in her dearest affections, showed themselves full of sympathy 
for her. 

On the 21st of June, the day to which the court adjourned, 
the two legates entered the parliament chamber with all the 
pomp belonging to their station, and took their seats on a 
raised platform. Near them sat the bishops of Bath and 
Lincoln, the abbot of Westminster, and Doctor Taylor, 
master of the Rolls, whom they had added to their commis- 
sion. Below them were the secretaries, among whom the 
skilful Stephen Gardiner held the chief rank. On the right 
hung a cloth of estate where the king sat surrounded by his 
officers; and on the left, a little lower, was the queen, at- 
tended by her ladies. The archbishop of Canterbury and 
the bishops were seated between the legates and Henry 
VIIL, and on both sides of the throne were stationed the 
counsellors of the king and queen. The latter were Fisher, 
bishop of Rochester, Standish of St Asaph, West of Ely, and 
Doctor Ridley. The people, when they saw this procession 
ilefile before them, were far from being dazzled by the pomp. 
" Less show and more virtue," they said, " would better 
become such judges." 

The pontifical commission having been read, the legates 
declared that they would judge without fear or favour, and 
would admit of neither recusation nor appeal.* Then the 
usher cried : " Henry, king of England, come into court." 
The king, cited in his own capital to accept as judges two 
priests, his subjects, repressed the throbbing of his proud 
heart, and replied, in the hope that this strange trial would 
have a favourable issue : " Here I am." The usher con- 
tinued: "Catherine, queen of England, come into court." 
The queen handed the cardinals a paper in which she pro- 
tested against the legality of the court, as the judges were 
the subjects of her opponent,-]- and appealed to Rome. The 
cardinals declared they could not admit this paper, and con- 

* The king's letter to his ambassadors at Rome, 23d June. Burnet's 
Ref., Records, p. liv. 

t Personas judicum non solum regi devinctas ver am et subjccUw esse. 
Sanders, p. 35. 



THE QUEEJTS APPEAL TO THE KING. 439 

sequeutly Catherine was again called into court. At this 
second summons she rose, devoutly crossed herself, made 
the circuit of the court to where the king sat, bending with 
dignity as she passed in front of the legates, and fell on her 
knees before her husband. Every eye was turned upon her. 
Then speaking in English, but with a Spanish accent, which 
by recalling the distance she was from her native home, 
pleaded eloquently for her, Catherine said with tears in her 
eyes, and in a tone at once dignified and impassioned : 

" SIR, I beseech you, for all the love that hath been be- 
tween us, and for the love of God, let me have justice and 
right; take some pity on me, for I am a poor woman and a 
stranger, born out of your dominions. I have here no 
assured friend, much less impartial counsel, and I flee to you 
as to the head of justice within this realm. Alas I Sir, 
wherein have I offended you, or what occasion given you of 
displeasure, that you should wish to put me from you ? I 
take God and all the world to witness, that I have been to 
you a true, humble, and obedient wife, ever conformable to 
your will and pleasure. Never have I said or done aught 
contrary thereto, being always well pleased and content with 
all things wherein you had delight; neither did I ever grudge 
in word or countenance, or show a visage or spark of dis- 
content. I loved all those whom you loved, only for your 
sake. This twenty years I have been your true wife, and 
by me ye have had divers children, although it hath pleased 
God to call them out of this world, which yet hath been no 
default in me." 

The judges, and even the most servile of the courtiers, 
were touched when they heard these simple and eloquent 
words, and the queen's sorrow moved them almost to tears. 
Catherine continued : 

" SIR, When ye married me at the first, I take God to be 
my judge I was a true maid ; and whether it be true or not, 

I put it to your conscience If there be any just cause 

that ye can allege against me, 1 am contented to depart 
from your kingdom, albeit to my great shame and dishon- 
our ; and if there be none, then let me remain in my former 
estate until death. Who united us? ThO king, your 



440 THE QUEEN WITHDRAWS. 

father, who was called the second Solomon;. and my father, 
Ferdinand, who was esteemed one of the wisest princes that, 
for many years before, had reigned in Spain. It is not, 
therefore, to be doubted that the marriage between you and 
me is good and lawful. Who are my judges? Is not one 

the man that has put sorrow between you and me?* a 

judge whom I refuse and abhor! Who are the counsellors 
assigned me? Are they not officers of the crown, wl.o have 

made oath to you in your own council? Sir, I conjure 

you not to call me before a court so formed. Yet, if you 

refuse me this favour your will be done I shall be 

silent, I shall repress the emotions of my soul, and remit my 
just cause to the hands of God." 

Thus spoke Catherine through her tears;-}- humbly bend- 
ing, she seemed to embrace Henry's knees. She rose and 
made a low obeisance to the king. It was expected that she 
would return to her seat ; but leaning on the arm of Griffiths, 
her receiver-general, she moved towards the door. The 
king, observing this, ordered her to be recalled ; and the 
usher following her, thrice cried aloud : " Catherine, queen 
of England, come into court." "Madam," said Griffiths, 
" you are called back." " I hear it well enough," replied the 
queen, " but go you on, for this is no court wherein I can 
have justice : let us proceed." Catherine returned to the 
palace, and never again appeared before the court either by 
proxy or in person. | 

She had gained her cause in the minds of many. The 
dignity of her person, the quaint simplicity of her speech, the 
propriety with which, relying .upon her innocence, she had 
spoken of the most delicate subjects, and the tears which be- 
trayed her emotion, had created a deep impression. But 
"the sting in her speech," as an historian says, was her 
appeal to the king's conscience, and to the judgment of Al- 
mighty God, on the capital point in the cause. " How could 

* Q,ni dissensionem inter ipsam et virum suum. Polyd. Virg. p. 688. 
f Haec ilia flebiliter dicente. Ibid. p. 686, and Cavendish. 
J Burnet, Records, p. 36. In this letter the king says : Both we aud 
the queen appealed in person. 
Fuller, p. 173. 



EMBARRASSMENT OP HENRY AND WOLSEY. 441 

a person so modest, so sober in her language," said many, 
"dare utter such. a falsehood? Besides, the king did not 
contradict her." 

Henry was greatly embarrassed: Catherine's words had 
moved him. Catherine's defence, one of the most touching 
in history, had gained over the accuser himself. He there- 
fore felt constrained to render this testimony to the accused: 
" Since the queen has withdrawn, I will, in her absence, 
declare to you all present, that she has. been to me as true 
and obedient a wife as I could desire. She has all the vir- 
tues and good qualities that belong to a woman. She is as 
noble in character as in birth." 

But "Wolsey was the most embarrassed of all. When the 
queen had % said, without naming him, that one of her judges 
was the cause of all her misfortunes, looks of indignation 
were turned upon him.* He was unwilling to remain under 
the weight of this accusation. AS soon as the king had 
finished speaking, he said : " Sir, I humbly beg your ma- 
jesty to declare before this audience, whether I was the first 
or chief mover in this business." Wolsey had formerly 
boasted to Du Bellay, " that the first project of the divorce 
was set on foot by himself, to create a perpetual separation 
between the houses of England and Spain;-}- but now it 
suited him to affirm the contrary. The king, who needed 
his services, took care not to contradict him. " My lord 
cardinal," he said, " I can well excuse you herein. Marry, 
so far from being a mover, ye have been rather against me 
in attempting thereof. It was the bishop of Tarbes, the 
French ambassador, who begot the first scruples in my con- 
science by his doubts on the legitimacy of the Princess 
Mary." This was not correct. The bishop of Tarbes was 
not in England before the year 1527, and we have proofs 
that the king was meditating a divorce in 1526. | "From 

* Vidisses Wolseum infestis fere omnium oculis conspici. Polyd. Virg. 
p. 688. 

f Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves,p. 186, 319. 

J See Pace's letter to Henry in 1526. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 1. Pace 
there shows that it is incorrect to say : Deutcronomium abrogate Leviti- 
ctim (Deuteronomy abrogates Leviticus), so far as concerns the prohibi- 
tion to take the wife of a deceased brother. 

T2 



442 HENRY JUSTIFIES HIMSELF. 

that hour," he continued, " I was much troubled, and thought 
myself in danger of God's heavy displeasure, who, wishing 
to punish my incestuous marriage, had taken away all the 
sons my wife had borne me. I laid my grief before you, my 
lord of Lincoln, then being my ghostly father ; and by your 
advice I asked counsel of the rest of the bishops, and you all 
informed me under your seals, that you shared in my scru- 
ples." " That is the truth," said the archbishop of Canter- 
bury. " No, Sir, not so, under correction," quoth the bishop 
of Rochester, " you have not my hand and seal." " No ? " 
exclaimed the king, showing him a paper which he held in 
his hand; "is not this your hand and seal?" "No, for- 
sooth," he answered. Henry's surprise increased, and turn- 
ing with a frown to the archbishop of Canterbury, he asked 
him: " What say you to that?" " Sir, it is his hand and 
seal," replied Warham. " It is not," rejoined Rochester ; 
" I told you I would never consent to any such act." " You 
say the truth," responded the archbishop, " but you were 
fully resolved at the last, that I should subscribe your name 
and put your seal." " All which is untrue," added Roches- 
ter, in a passion. The bishop was not very respectful to his 
primate. " Well, well," said the king, wishing to end the 
dispute, " we will not stand in argument with you ; for you 
are but one man."* The court adjourned. The day had 
been better for Catherine than for the prelates. 

In proportion as the first sitting had been pathetic, so the 
discussions in the second between the lawyers and bishops 
were calculated to revolt a delicate mind. The advocates of 
the two parties vigorously debated pro and con respecting 
the consummation of Arthur's marriage with Catherine. 
"It is a very difficult question," said one of the counsel; 
none can know the truth." " But I know it," replied the 
bishop of Rochester. "What do you mean?" asked Wol- 
sey. " My lord," he answered, " he was the very Truth who 
said : What God hath joined together, let not man put asun- 
der : that is enough for me." " So everybody thinks," re- 
joined Wolsey ; " but whether it was God who united Henry 
of England and Catherine of Aragon, hoc restat probandum, 
* Cavendish's Wolsciy. p. 223. 



MESSAGE OP THE MAID OF KENT. 443 

thai remains to be proved. The king's council decides that 
the marriage is unlawful, and consequently it was not God 
icho joined them together" The two bishops then exchanged 
a few words less edifying than those of the preceding day. 
Several of the hearers expressed a sentiment of disgust. 
" It is a disgrace to the court," said Doctor Ridley with no 
little indignation, "that you dare discuss. questions which 
fill every right-minded man with horror." This sharp repri- 
mand put an end to the debate. 

The agitations of the court spread to the convents; priests, 
monks, and nuns were everywhere in commotion. It was 
not long before astonishing revelations began to circulate 
through the cloisters. There was no talk then of an old 
portrait of the Virgin that winked its eyes ; but other mira- 
cles were invented. " An angel," it was rumoured, " has 
appeared to Elizabeth Barton, the maid of Kent, as he did 
formerly to Adam, to the patriarchs, and to Jesus Christ." 
At the epochs of the creation and of the redemption, and in 
the times which lead from one to the other, miracles are 
natural ; God then appeared, and his coming without any 
signs of power, would be as surprising as the rising of the 
sun unattended by its rays of light. But the Romish Church 
does not stop there ; it claims in every age, for its saints, the 
privilege of miraculous powers, and the miracles-are multi- 
plied in proportion to the ignorance of the people. And ac- 
cordingly the angel said to the epileptic maid of Kent : " Go 
to the unfaithful king of England, and tell him there are 
three things he desires, which I forbid now and for ever. 
The first is the power of the pope ; the second the new dbc- 
trine ; the third Anne Boleyn. If he takes her for his wife, 
God will visit him." The vision-seeing maid delivered the 
message to the king,* whom nothing could now stop. 

On the contrary, he began to find out that Wolsey pro- 
ceeded too slowly, and the idea sometimes crossed his mind 
that he was betrayed by this minister. One fine summer's 
morning, Henry as soon as he rose summoned the cardinal 
to him at Bridewell. Wolsey hastened thither, and remained 

* She showed this unto the king. Letter to Cromwell in Strypc, vol.i. 
0.272. 



444 THE LEGATES VISIT THE QUEEN. 

closeted with the king from eleven till twelve. The latter 
gave way to all the fury of his passion and the violence of 
his despotism. " We must finish this matter promptly," he 
said, " we must positively." "Wolsey retired very uneasy, 
and returned by the Thames to Westminster. The sun 
darted his bright rays on the water. The bishop of Carlisle, 
who sat by the cardinal's side, remarked, as he wiped his 
forehead : " A very warm day, my lord." " Yes," replied 
the unhappy Wolsey, " if you had been chafed for an hour 
as I have been, you would say it was a hot day." When he 
reached his palace, the cardinal lay down on his bed to seek 
repose ; he was not quiet long. 

Catherine had grown in Henry's eyes, as well as in those 
of the nation. The king shrank from a judgment; he even 
began to doubt of his success. He wished that the queen 
would consent to a separation. This idea occurred to his 
mind after Wolsey's departure, and the cardinal had hardly 
closed his eyes before the earl of Wiltshire (Anne Boleyn's 
father) was announced to him with a message from the king. 
" It is his majesty's pleasure," said Wiltshire, " that you 
represent to the queen the shame that will accrue to her 
from a judicial condemnation, and persuade her to confide in 
his wisdom." Wolsey, commissioned to execute a task he 
knew to be" impossible, exclaimed : " Why do you put such 
fancies in the king's head?" and then he spoke so reproach- 
fully that Wiltshire, with tears in his eyes, fell on his knees 
beside the cardinal's bed.* Boleyn, desirous of seeing his 
daughter queen of England, feared perhaps that he had taken 
a wrong course. " It is well," said the cardinal, recollecting 
that the message came from Henry VIII., " I am ready to 
do every thing to please his majesty." He rose, went to 
Bath Place to fetch Campeggio, and together they waited on 
the queen. 

The tAvo legates found Catherine quietly at work with her 
maids of honour. Wolsey addressed the queen in Latin? 
" Nay, my lord," she said, " speak to me in English ; I wish 
all the world could hear you."-" We desire, madam, to 
communicate to you alone our counsel and opinion." " My 
Cavendish, p. 226. 



THE LEGATES VISIT THE QUEEN. 445 

lord," said the queen, " you are come to speak of things 
beyond my capacity ;" and then, with noble simplicity, show- 
ing a skein of red silk hanging about her neck, she continued : 
" These are my occupations, and all that I am capable of. 
I am a poor woman, without friends in this foreign country, 
and lacking wit to answer persons of wisdom as ye be ; and 
yet, my lords, to please you, let us go to my withdrawing 
room." 

At these words the queen rose, and Wolsey gave her his 
hand. Catherine earnestly maintained her rights as a wo- 
man and a queen. " We who were in the outer chamber," 
says Cavendish, " from time to time could hear the queen 
speaking very loud, but could not understand what she said." 
Catherine, instead of justifying herself, boldly accused her 
judge. " I know, Sir Cardinal," she said with noble candour, 
" I know who has given the king the advice he is following: 
it is you. I have not ministered to your pride I have 
blamed your conduct I have complained of your tyranny, 

and my nephew the emperor has not made you pope 

Hence all my misfortunes. To revenge yourself you have 
kindled a war in Europe, and have stirred up against me 

this most wicked matter. God will be my judge and 

yours ! " Wolsey would have replied, but Catherine haughtily 
refused to hear him, and while treating Campeggio with 
great civility, declared that she would not acknowledge either 
of them as her judge. The cardinals withdrew, Wolsey full 
of vexation, and Campeggio beaming with joy, for the busi- 
ness was getting more complicated. Every hope of accom- 
modation was lost: nothing temained now but to proceed 
judicially. 



446 THE TRIAL RESUMED. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Tie Trial resumed Catherine summoned Twelve Articles The Wit- 
nesses' Evidence Arthur and Catherine really married Cam peggio 
opposes the Argument of Divine Right Other Arguments The Legates 
required to deliver Judgment Their Tergiversations Change in Men's 
Minds Final Session General Expectation Adjournment during 
Harvest Campeggio excuses this Impertinence The King's Indigna- 
tionSuffolk's Violence Wolsey's Reply He is ruined General Ac- 
cusations The Cardinal turns to an Episcopal Life. 

THE trial was resumed. The bishop of Bath and "Wells 
waited upon the queen at Greenwich, and peremptorily sum- 
moned her to appear in the parliament-chamber.* On thfi 
day appointed Catherine limited herself to sending an ap- 
peal to the pope. She was declared contumacious, and 
the legates proceeded with the cause. 

Twelve articles were prepared, which were to serve for the 
examination of the witnesses, and the summary of which 
was, that the marriage of Henry with Catherine, being for- 
bidden both by the law of God and of the church, was null 
and void.-}- 

The hearing of the witnesses began, and Dr Taylor, arch- 
deacon of Buckingham, conducted the examination. Their 
evidence, which would now be taken only with closed doors, 
may be found in Lord Herbert of Cherbury's History of 
Henry VIII. The duke of Norfolk, high-treasurer of Eng- 
land, the duke of Suffolk, Maurice St John, gentleman- 
carver to Prince Arthur, the viscount Fitzwalter and An- 
thony Willoughby, his cup-bearers, testified to their being 
present on the morrow of the wedding at the breakfast of 
the prince, then in sound health, and reported the conversa- 
tion that took place.j: The old duchess of Norfolk, the carl 

* In quadam superior! camera: the queen's dinmg-chamber, nuncupata, 
26 die mensis junii. Rymor, Acta, p. 119. 

f Divino, ecclcsiastieo jure nullo omnino et invalidum. Herbert 

p. 2G3. 

4: Quod Arthurus mano postridie potum flagitaret, idque ut, aiebant 
quoniam diceret se ilia nocte in calida Hispani^rum regione peregrinatum 
fuisso. Sanders, p. 43. 



ARGUMENTS OF TUB KIKG'S COUNSEL. 447 

of Shrewsbury, and the marquis of Dorset, confirmed these 
declarations, which proved that Arthur and Catherine were 
really married. It was also called to mind that, at the time 
of Arthur's death, Henry was not permitted to take the title 
of prince of Wales, because Catherine hoped to give an heir 
to the crown of England.* 

" If Arthur and Catherine were really married," said the 
king's counsellors after these extraordinary depositions, " the 
marriage of this princess with Henry, Arthur's brother, was 
forbidden by the divine law, by an express command of God 
contained in Leviticus, and no dispensation could permit 
what God had forbidden." Campeggio would never concede 
this argument, which limited the right of the popes ; it was 
necessary therefore to abandon the divine right (which was 
in reality to lose the cause), and to seek in the bull of Julius 
II. and in his famous brief, for flaws that would invalidate 
them both;-)- and this the king's counsel did, although they 
did not conceal the weakness of their position. " The motive 
alleged in the dispensation," they said, " is the necessity of 
preserving a cordial relation between Spain and England ; 
now, there was nothing that threatened their harmony. 
Moreover, it is said in this document that the pope grants it 
at the prayer of Henry, prince of Wales. Now as this prince 
was only thirteen years old, he was not of age to make such 
a request. As for the brief, it is found neither in England 
nor in Rome ; we cannot therefore admit its authenticity." 
It was not difficult for Catherine's friends to invalidate these 
objections. " Besides," they added, " a union that has lasted 
twenty years sufficiently establishes its own lawfulness. 
And will you declare the Princess Mary illegitimate, to the 
great injury of this realm?" 

The king's advocates then changed their course. Was 
not the Roman legate provided with a decretal pronouncing 
the divorce, in case it should be proved that Arthur's mar- 
riage had been really consummated? Now, this fact had been 
proved by the depositions. " This is the moment for de- 
livering judgment," said Henry and his counsellors to Cam- 
peggio. " Publish the pope's decretal." But the pope feared 

* Fexe, v. p. 51. f Herbert Rives them at length, p. 264-267. 



448 DIFFERENT OPINIONS. 

the sword of Charles V., then hanging over his head ; and 
accordingly, .whenever the king advanced one step, the Ro- 
mish prelate took several in an opposite direction. " I will 
deliver judgment in five days," said lie ; and when the five 
days were expired, he^bound himself to deliver it in six. 
" Restore peace to my troubled conscience," exclaimed Hanry. 
The legate replied in courtly phrase ; he had gained a few 
days' delay, and that was all he desired. 

Such conduct on the part of the Roman legate produced 
an unfavourable effect in England, and a change took place 
in the public mind. The first movement had been for 
Catherine; the second was for Henry. Clement's endless 
delays and Campeggio's stratagems exasperated the nation. 
The king's argument was simple and popular : " The pope 
cannot dispense with the laws of God ;" while the queen, by 
appealing to the authority of the Roman pontiff, displeased 
both high and low. " No precedent," said the lawyers, " can 
justify the king's marriage with his brother's widow." 

There were, however, some evangelical Christians who 
thought Henry was " troubled * more by his passions than 
by his conscience ; and they asked how it happened that a 
prince, who represented himself to be so disturbed by the 
possible transgression of a law of doubtful interpretation, 
could desire, after twenty years, to violate the indisputable 

law which forbade the divorce? On the 21st of July, the 

day fixed ad concludendum, the cause was adjourned until 
the Friday following, and no one doubted that the matter 
would then be terminated. 

All prepared for this important day. The king ordered 
the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk to be present at the sitting, 
of the court; and being himself impatient to hear the so 
much coveted judgment, he stole into a gallery of the par- 
liament chamber facing the judges. 

The legates of the holy see having taken their seats, the 
attorney-general signified to them, " that everything neces- 
sary for the information of their conscience having been 
judicially laid before them, that day had been fixed for the 
conclusion of the trial." There was a pause; every one 
feeling the importance of this judgment, waited for it with 



FINAL ADJOUKNMENT THE LEGATE'S REASONS. 449 



impatience. " Either tlie papacy pronounces my divorce 
from Catherine," the king had said, " or I shall divorce my- 
self from the papacy." That was the way Henry put the 
question. All eyes, and particularly the king's, were turned 
on the judges ; Campeggio could not retreat ; he must now 
Bay yes or no. For some time he was silent. He knew for 
certain that the queen's appeal had been admitted by 
Clement VII., and that the latter had concluded an alliance 
with the emperor. It was no longer in his power to grant 
the king's request. Clearly foreseeing that a no would per- 
haps forfeit the power of Rome in England, while a yes 
might put an end to the plans of religious emancipation 
which alarmed him so much, he could not make up his mind 
to say either yes or no. 

At last the nuncio rose slowly from his chair, and all the 
assembly listened with emotion to the oracular decision 
which for so many years the powerful king of England had 
sought from the Roman pontiff. " The general vacation of 
the harvest and vintage," he said, " being observed every 
year by the court of Rome, dating from to-morrow the 24th 
of July, the beginning of the -dog-days, we adjourn, to some 
future period, the conclusion of these pleadings." * 

The auditors were thunderstruck. " What ! because the 
malaria renders the air of Rome dangerous at the end of 
July, and compels the Romans to close their courts, must a 
trial be broken off on the banks of the Thames, when its 
conclusion is looked for so impatiently?" The people hoped 
for a judicial sentence, and they were answered with a jest ; 
it was thus Rome made sport of Christendom. Campeggio, 
io disarm Henry's wrath, gave utterance to some noble sen- 
timents; but his whole line of conduct raises legitimate 
doubts as to his sincerity. " The queen," he said, " denies 
the competency of the court ; I must therefore make my re- 
port to the pope, who is the source of life and honour, and 
wait his sovereign orders. I have not come so far to please 
any man, be he king or subject. I am an old man, feeble 
and sickly, and fear none but the Supreme Judge, before 

* Ferisc qenerales messium et vindemiarum. Herbert, p. 278 ; Caven- 
dish, p. 229. 

V. 20 



430 SUFFOLK'S VIOLENCE. 



whom I must soon appear. I therefore adjourn this court 
until the 1st of October." 

It was evident that this adjournment was only a formality 
intended to signify the definitive rejection of Henry's de- 
mand. The same custom prevails in the British legislature. 

The king, who from his place of concealment had heard 
Campeggio's speech, could scarcely control his Indignation. 
He wanted a regular judgment ; he clung to forms ; he de- 
sired that his cause should pass successfully through all the 
windings of ecclesiastical procedure, and yet here it is 
wrecked upon the vacations of the Romish court. Henry 
was silent, however, either from prudence, or because sur- 
prise deprived him of the power of speech, and he hastily 
left the gallery. 

Norfolk, Suffolk, and the other courtiers, did not follow 
him. The king and his ministers, the peers and the people, 
and even the clergy, were almost unanimous, and yet the 
pope pronounced his veto. He humbled the Defender of 
the Faith to flatter the author of the sack of Rome, This 
was too much. The impetuous Suffolk started from his 
seat, struck his hand violently on the table in front of him, 
cast a threatening look upon the judges, and exclaimed : "By 
the mass, the old saying is confirmed to-day, that no cardinal 
has ever brought good to England."* " Sir, of all men in 
this realm," replied Wolsey, " you have the least cause to 
disparage cardinals, for if I, poor cardinal, had not been, you 
would not have a head on your shoulders." -j- It would 
seem that Wolsey pacified Henry, at the time of the duke's 
marriage with the Princess Mary. " I cannot pronounce 
sentence," continued "Wolsey, " without knowing the good 
pleasure of his holiness." The two dukes and the other 
noblemen left the hall in anger, and hastened to the palace.J 
The legates, remaining with their officers, looked at each 

* Mensam quse proponebatur magno ictu concutiens : Per sacram, 
inquit, missam, nemo unquam legatorum aut cardinalium quicquam boui 
ttd Angliam apportavit. Sanders, p. 49. 

f Cavendish, p. 233. 

J Duces ex judicio discedentes, nt ipsi omnibus iracundise fiamrais 
orebantar. Sanders, p. 49. 



CHANGE IN THE KING'S MIND. 451 

other for a few moments. At last Campeggio, who alone 
had remained calm during this ?cene of violence, arose, and 
the audience dispersed. 

Henry did not allow himself to be crushed by this blow. 
Rome, by her strange proceedings, aroused in him that sus- 
picious and despotic spirit, of which he gave such tragic 
proofs in after-years. The papacy was making sport of him. 
Clement and Wolsey tossed his divorce from one to the other 
like a ball which, now at Rome and now in London, seemed 
fated to remain perpetually in the air. The king thought he 
had been long enough the plaything of his holiness and of 
the crafty cardinal ; his patience was exhausted, and he re- 
solved to show his adversaries that Henry VIII. was more 
than a match for these bishops. We shall find him seizing 
this favourable opportunity, and giving an unexpected solu- 
tion to the matter. 

Wolsey sorrowfully hung his head ; by taking part with 
the nuncio and the pope, he had signed the warrant of his 
own destruction. So long as Henry had a single ray of 
hope, he thought proper still to dissemble with Clement VII. ; 
but he might vent all his angeT on Wolsey. From the period 
of the Roman Vacations the cardinal was ruined in his 
master's mind. Wolsey's enemies seeing his favour decline, 
hastened to attack him. Suffolk and Norfolk in particular, 
impatient to get rid of an insolent priest who had so long 
chafed their pride, told Henry that Wolsey had been con- 
tinually playing false ; they went over all his negotiations 
month by month and day by day, and drew the most over- 
whelming conclusions from them. Sir William Kingston 
and Lord Manners laid before the king one of the cardinal's 
letters which Sir Francis Bryan had obtained from the papal 
archives. In it the cardinal desired Clement to spin out the 
divorce question, and finally to oppose it, seeing (he added) 
that if Henry was separated from Catherine, a friend to the 
reformers would become queen of England.* This letter 
clearly expressed Wolsey's inmost thoughts : Rome at any 

price and perish England and Henry rather than the 

popedom ! We can imagine the king's anger. 

* Edm. Campion De divortio. Herbert, p, 289. 



452 WOLHEY ACCUSED BY ALL. 

Anne Boleyn's friends were not working alone. There 
was not a person at court whom Wolsey's haughtiness and 
tyranny had not offended ; no one in the king's council in 
whom his continual intrigues had not raised serious suspi- 
cions. He had (they said) betrayed in France the cause of 
England; kept up in time of peace an 3 war secret intelli- 
gence with Madam, mother of Francis I.; received great 
presents from her ;* oppressed the nation, and trodden' under 
foot the laws of the kingdom. The people called him .French- 
man and traitor, and all England seemed to vie in throwing 
burning brands at the superb edifice which the pride of this 
prelate bad so laboriously erected. -J- 

Wolsey was too clearsighted not to discern the signs of 
his approaching fall. " Both the rising and the setting sun 
(for thus an historian calls Anne Boleyn and Catherine of 
Aragon) frowned upon him,"J and the sky, growing darker 
around him, gave token of the storm that was to overwhelm 
him. If the cause failed, Wolsey incurred the vengeance of 
*.he king ; if it succeeded, he would be delivered up to the 
vengeance of the Boleyns, without speaking of Catherine's, 
the emperor's, and the pope's. Happy Campeggio ! thought 
the cardinal, he has nothing to fear. If Henry's favour is 
withdrawn from him, Charles and Clement will make him 
compensation. But Wolsey lost everything when he lost 
the king's good graces. Detested by his fellow-citizens, 
despised and hated by all Europe, he saw to whatever side 
he turned nothing but the just reward of his avarice and 
falseness. He strove in vain, as on other occasions, to lean 
on the ambassador of France ; Du Bellay was solicited on 
the other side. " I am exposed here to such a heavy and 
continual fire that I am half dead," exclaimed the bishop of 
Bayonne ; and the cardinal met with an unusual reserve 
in his former confidant. 

Yet the crisis approached. Like a skilful but affrighted 
pilot, Wolsey cast his eyes around him to discover a port 

* Du Bellay'a Letters, Le Grand, Preuves, p. 374. 

f Novis etiam furoris et insaniae facibus incenderunt. Sanders, p. 49. 

J Fuller, p. 176. 

Du Bellay to Montmorency, 15th June. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 324. 



ANNE BOLETN AT HEVER. 453 

in winch he could take refuge. He could find none but his 
see of York. He therefore began once more tc complain of 
the fatigues of power, of the weariness of the diplomatic 
career, and to extol the sweetness of an episcopal life. On 
a sudden he felt a great interest about the flock of whom he 
had never thought before. Those around him shook their 
heads, well knowing that such a rotreat would be to Wolsey 
the bitterest of disgraces. One single idea supported him ; 
if he fell, it would be because he had clung more to the pope 
than to the king : he would be the martyr of his faith. 
What a faith, what a martyr 1 



CHAPTER X. 

Anne Boleyn at Hever She reads the Obedience of a Christian Man- 
ia recalled to Court Miss Gainsford and George Zouch Tyndale's 
Book converts Zouch Zouch in the Chapel-Royal The Book seized 
Anne applies to Henry The King reads the Book Pretended In- 
fluence of the Book on Henry The Court at Woodstock The Park 
and its Goblins Henry's Esteem for Anne. 

WHILE these things were taking place, Anne was living at 
Hever Castle in retirement and sadness. Scruples from 
time to time still alarmed her conscience. It is true, the 
king represented to her unceasingly that his salvation and 
the safety of his people demanded the dissolution of a union 
condemned by the divine law, and that what he solicited 
several popes had granted. Had not Alexander VI. an- 
nulled, after ten years, the marriage of Ladislaus and Bea- 
trice of Naples? Had not Louis XII., tlte father of his 
people, been divorced Irom Joan of France ? Nothing was 
more common, he said, than to see the divorce of a prince 
authorized by a pope ; the security of the state must be pro- 
vided for before everything else. Carried away by these 
arguments and dazzled by the splendour of a throne, Anne 
Boleyn consented to usurp at Henry's side the rank belong- 



454 ANNE READS THE OBEDIENCE OF A CHRISTIAN MAN. 

ing to another. Yet, if she was imprudent and ambitious, 
she was feeling and generous, and the misfortunes of a queen 
whom she respected soon made her reject with terror the 
idea of taking her place. The fertile pastures of Kent and 
the gothic halls of Hever Castle were by turns the witnesses 
of the mental conflicts this young lady experienced. Thfc 
fear she entertained of seeing the queen again, and the idea 
that the two cardinals, her enemies, were plotting her ruin, 
made her adopt the resolution of not returning to court, and 
she shut herself up in her solitary chamber. 

Anne had neither the deep piety of a Bilney, nor the 
somewhat vague and mystic spirituality observable in Mar- 
garet of V? lois ; it was not feeling which prevailed in her 
religion, it was knowledge, and a horror of superstition and 
pharisaism. Her mind required light and activity, and at 
that time she sought in reading the consolations so neces- 
sary to her position. One day she opened one of the books 
prohibited in England, which a friend of the Reformation 
had given her: The Obedience of a Christian Man. Its 
author was William Tyndale, that invisible man whom 
Wolsey's agents were hunting for in Brabant and Germany, 
and this was a recommendation to Anne. " If thou believe 
the promises," she read, " then God's truth justifieth thee ; 
that is, forgiveth thy sins and sealeth thee with his Holy 
Spirit. If thou have true faith, so seest thou the exceeding 
and infinite love and mercy which God hath shown thee 
freely in Christ : then must thou needs love again : and 
love cannot but compel thee to work. If when tyrants op- 
pose thee thou have power to confess, then art thou sure 
that thou art safe.* If thou be fallen from the way of truth, 
come thereto again and thou art safe. Yea, Christ shall 
save thee, and the angels of heaven shall rejoice at thy com- 
ing." -J- These words did not change Anne's heart, but she 
marked with her nail, as was her custom,:): other passages 
which struck her more, and which she desired to point out 
to the king if, as she hoped, she was ever to meet him again. 

* Tyndale and Fryth's Works, vol. i. p. 295. 
f Tyndale's Works, vol. i. p. 300. 
t Wyatt's Memoirs, p. 438. 



ANNS RECALLED TO COURT. 455 

She believed that the truth was there, and took a lively 
interest in those whom Wolsey, Henry, and the pope were 
at that time persecuting. 

Anne was soon dragged from these pious lessons, and 
launched into the midst of a world full of dangers. Henry, 
convinced that he had nothing to ezpect henceforward from 
Campeggio, neglected those proprieties which he had hither- 
to observed, and immediately after the adjournment ordered 
Anne Boleyn to return to court; he restored her to the 
place she had formerly occupied, and even surrounded her 
with increased splendour. Every one saw that Anne, in 
the king's mind, was queen of England ; and a powerful 
party was formed around her which proposed to accomplish 
the definitive ruin of the cardinal. 

After her return to court, Anne read much less frequently 
The Obedience of a Christian Man and the Testament of 
Jesus Christ. Henry's homage, her friends' intrigues, and 
the whirl of festivities, bade fair to stifle the thoughts which 
solitude. had aroused in her heart. One day having left 
Tyndale's book in a window, Miss Gainsford, a fair young 
gentlewoman* attached to her person, took it up and read 
it. A gentleman of handsome mien, cheerful temper, and 
extreme mildness, named George Zouch, also belonging to 
Anne's household, and betrothed to Miss Gainsford, profit- 
ing by the liberty his position gave him, indulged sometimes 
in " love tricks."-}- On one occasion when George desired to 
have a little talk with her, he was annoyed to find her 
absorbed by a book of whose contents he knew nothing; 
and taking advantage of a moment when the young lady 
had turned away her head, he laughingly snatched it from 
her. Miss Gainsford ran after Zouch to recover her book ; 
but just at that moment she heard her mistress calling her, 
and she left George, threatening him with her finger. 

As she did not return immediately, George withdrew to 
his room, and opened the volume ; it was the Obedience of 
a Christian Man. He glanced over a few lines, then a few 
pages, and at last read the book through more than once. 
He seemed to hear the voice of God. " I feel the Spirit of 
Strype, i. p. 171. t Ibid. p. 172. 



456 ZOUCH IN THE KING'S CHAPEL. 

God," he said, " speaking in my heart as he has spoken in 
the heart of him who wrote the book." * The words which 
had only made a temporary impression on the preoccupied 
mind of Anne Boleyn, penetrated to the heart of her equerry 
and converted him. Miss Gainsford, fearing that Anne 
would ask for her book, entreated George to restore it to 
her ; but he positively refused, and even the young lady's 
tears failed to make him give up a volume in which he had 
found the life of his e-oul. Becoming more serious, he no 
longer jested as before ; and when Miss Gainsford peremp- 
torily demanded the book, he was, says the chronicler, 
" ready to weep himself." 

Zouch, finding in this volume an edification which empty 
forms and ceremonies could not give, used to carry it with 
him to the king's chapel. Dr Sampson, the dean, generally 
officiated ; and while the choir chanted the service, George 
would be absorbed in his book, where he read : " If when 
thou seest the celebration of the sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper, thou believest in this promise of Christ : This is my 
body that is broken for you, and if thou have this prainise 
fast in thine heart, thou art saved and justified thereby; 
thou eatest his body and drinkest his blood. If not, so 
helpeth it thee not, though thou hearest a thousand masses 
in a day : no more than it should help thee in a dead thirst 
to behold a bush at a tavern door, if thou knewest not 
thereby that there was wine within to be sold."-j- The 
young man dwelt upon these words : by faith he ate the 
body and drank the blood of the Son of God. This was 
what was passing in the palaces of Henry VIII. ; there 
were saints in the household of Caesar. 

Wolsey, desirous of removing from the court everything 
that might favour the Reformation, had recommended ex- 
treme vigilance to Dr Sampson, so as to prevent the circula- 
tion of the innovating books. Accordingly, one day when 
George was in the chapel absorbed in his book, the dean, 
who, even while officiating, had not lost sight of the young 
man, called him to him after the service, and rudely taking 
the book from his hands, demanded : " What is ycur name, 
* Strype, i. p. 172. f Tyndale and Fryth's Works, vol. i. p. 203. 



ANNE BOLEYN BEFORE THE KING. 457 

and in whose service are you ? " Zouch having replied, the 
dean withdrew with a very angry look, and carried his prey 
to the cardinal. 

When Miss Gainsford heard of this mishap, her grief was 
extreme ; she trembled at the thought that the Obedience of 
a Christian Man was in Wolsey's hands. Not long after this, 
Anne having asked for her book, the young lady fell on her 
knees, confessed all, and begged to be forgiven.* Anne 
uttered not a word of reproach ; her quick mind saw imme- 
diately the advantage she might derive from this affair. 
" Well," said she, " it shall be the dearest book to them that 
ever the dean or cardinal took away." 

" The noble lady," as the chronicler styles her, immedi- 
ately demanded an interview of the king, and on reaching 
his presence she fell at his feet, -j- and begged his assistance. 
" What is the matter, Anne?" said the astonished monarch. 
She told him what had happened, and Henry promised that 
the book should not remain in Wolsey's hands. 

Anne had scarcely quitted the royal apartments when the 
cardinal arrived with the famous volume, with the intention 
of complaining to Henry of certain passages which he knew 
could not fail to irritate him, and to take advantage of it 
even to attack Anne, if the king should be offended. J 
Henry's icy reception closed his mouth ; the king confined 
himself to taking the book, and bowing out the cardinal. 
This was precisely what Anne had hoped for. She begged 
the king to read the book, which he promised to do. 

And Henry accordingly shut himself up in his closet, and 
read the Obedience of a Christian Man. There were few 
works better calculated to enlighten him, and none, after the 
Bible, that has had more influence upon the Reformation in 
England. Tyndale treated of obedience, " the essential 
principle," as he terms it, " of every political or religious 
community." He declaimed against the unlawful power of 
the popes, who usurped the lawful authority of Christ and 
of his Word. He professed political doctrines too favour- 

* She on her knees told it all. Strype, vol. i. p. 172. 

t Upon her knees she desireth the king's help for her book. Ibid. 

Wyatt's Memoirs, p. 441. 

20* 



458 THE KING READS TYNDALE's BOOK. 

able doubtless to absolute power, but calculated to show 
that the reformers were not, as had been asserted, insti- 
gators of rebellion. Henry read as follows : 

" The king is in the room of God in this world. He that 
resisteth the king, resisteth God ; he that judgeth the king, 
judgeth God. He is the minister of God to defend thee 
from a thousand inconveniences ; though he be the greatest 
tyrant in the world, yet is he unto thee a great benefit of 
God ; for it is better to pay the tenth than to lose all, and 
to suffer wrong of one man than of every man."* 

These are indeed strange doctrines for rebels to hold, 
thought the king ; and he continued : 

" Let kings, if they had lever [rather] be Christians in 
deed than so to be called, give themselves altogether to the 
wealth [well-being] of their realms after the ensample of 
Jesus Christ ; remembering that the people are God's, and 
not theirs ; yea, are Christ's inheritance, bought with his 
blood. The most despised person in his realm (if he is a 
Christian) is equal with him in the kingdom of God and of 
Christ. Let the king put off all pride, and become a brother 
to the poorest of his subjects." } 

It is probable that these words were less satisfactory to 
the king. He kept on reading : 

" Emperors and kings are nothing now-a-days, but even 
hangmen unto the pope and bishops, to kill whomsoever 
they condemn, as Pilate was unto the scribes and pharisees 
and high bishops to hang Christ." | 

This seemed to Henry rather strong language. 

" The pope hath received no other authority of Christ than 
to preach God's word. Now, this word should rule only, and 
not bishops' decrees or the pope's pleasure. In prcesentia 
majoris cessat potestas minoris, in the presence of the greater 
the less hath no power. The pope, against all the doctrine 
of Christ, which saith, My kingdom is not of this world, hath 
usurped the right of the emperor. Kings must make account 
of their doings only to God. || No person may bo exempt 

* Tyndale's Works, edited by Russell, vol. i. p. 212. 

t Ibid. p. 233. * Ibid. p. 274. 

Ibid. p. 243. I Ibid. p. 220. 



AN ERRONEOUS JUDGMENT. 459 

from this ordinance of God ; neither can the profession of 
monks and friars, or anything that the popes or bishops can 
lay for themselves, except them from the sword of the em- 
peror or king, if they break the laws. For it is written, 
(Rom. xiii.) Let every soul submit himself unto the author- 
ity of the higher powers."* 

" What excellent reading !" exclaimed Henry, when he had 
finished ; " this is truly a book for all kings to read, and for 
me particularly." -J- 

Captivated by Tyndale's work, the king began to converse 
with Anne about the church and the pope ; and she who had 
seen Margaret of Valois unassumingly endeavour to instruct 
Francis I. strove in like manner to enlighten Henry VIIL 
She did not possess the influence over him she desired ; this 
unhappy prince was, to the very end of his life, opposed to 
the evangelical reformation ; protestants and catholics have 
been equally mistaken when they have regarded him as be- 
ing favourable to it. " In a short time," says the annalist 
quoted by Strype at the end of his narrative, " the king, by 
the help of this virtuous lady, had his eyes opened to the 
truth. He learned to seek after that truth, to advance God's 
religion and glory, to detest the pope's doctrine, his lies, his 
pomp, and pride, and to deliver his subjects from the Egyp- 
tian darkness and Babylonian bonds that the pope had 
brought him and his subjects under. Despising the rebellions 
of. his subjects and the rage of so many mighty potentates 
abroad, he set forward a religious reformation, which, begin- 
ning with the triple-crowned head, came down to all the mem- 
bers of the hierarchy." History has rarely delivered a more 
erroneous judgment. Henry's eyes were never opened to the 
truth, and it was not he who made the Reformation. IT 
was accomplished first of all by Scripture, and then by the 
ministry of simple and faithful men baptized of the Holy 
Ghost. 

Yet Tyndale's book and the conduct of the legates had 
given rise in the king's mind to new thoughts which he 
sought time to mature. He desired also to conceal his anger 
from Wolsey and Campeggio, and dissipate his spleen, says 

* Tyndale'e Works, p. 213. t Strype, i. p. i72. 



460 THE COURT AT WOODSTOCK. 

the historian Collyer; he therefore gave orders to remove 
the court to the palace of Woodstock. The magnificent park 
attached to this royal residence, in which was the celebrated 
bower constructed (it is said) by Henry II. to conceal the 
fair Rosamond, offered all the charms of the promenade, the 
chase, and solitude.* Hence he could easily repair to Lang- 
ley, Grafton, and other country-seats. It was not long be- 
fore the entertainments, horse-races, and other rural sports 
began. The world with its pleasures and its grandeur, were 
at the bottom the idols of Anne Boleyn's heart ; but yet she 
felt a certain attraction for the new doctrine, which was con- 
founded in her mind with the great cause of all knowledge, 
perhaps even with her own. More enlightened than the 
generality of women, she- was distinguished by the superiority 
of her understanding not only over her own sex, but even 
over many of the gentlemen of the court. While Catherine, 
a member of the third order of St Francis, indulged in trifling 
practices, the more intelligent, if not more pious Anne, cared 
but little for amulets which the friars had blessed, for appari- 
tions, or visions of angels. Woodstock furnished her with 
an opportunity of curing Henry VIII. of the superstitious 
ideas natural to him. There was a place in the forest said 
to be haunted by evil spirits ; not a priest or a courtier dared 
approach it. A tradition ran that if a king ventured to cross 
the boundary, he would fall dead. Anne resolved to take 
Henry there. Accordingly, one morning she led the way in 
the direction of the place where these mysterious powers 
manifested their presence (as it was said) by strange appari- 
tions ; they entered the wood ; they arrived at the so much 
dreaded spot ; all hesitated -, but Anne's calmness reassured 

her companions ; they advanced ; they found nothing but 

trees and turf, and, laughing at their former terrors, they 
explored every corner of this mysterious resort of the evil 
spirits. Anne returned to the palace, congratulating herself 
on the triumph Henry had gained over his imaginary fears.-}- 

* The letters from the king's secretaries Gardiner and Tuke to Wol- 
sy, dated Woodstock, run from 4th August to 8th September. State 
Papers, i. p. 335-347. 

t Foxe, v. p. 136 ; Miss Benger's Life of Anne Boleyn, p. 299. 



EMBARRASSMENT OF THE POPE. 461 

This prince, who could as yet bear with superiority in others, 
was struck with Anne Boleyn's. 

Never too gay nor yet too melancholy, 

A heavenly mind is hers, like angels holy. 

None purer ever soared above the sky, 

O mighty marvel, thus may every eye 

See of what monster strange the humble serf am I ; 

Monster indeed, for in her frame divine 

A woman's form, man's heart, and angel's head combine.* 

These verses of Clement Marot, written in honour of Mar- 
garet of Valois, faithfully express what Henry then felt for 
Anne, who had been with Marot in the household of that 
princess. Henry's love may perhaps have deceived him as 
to Anne's excellencies. 



CHAPTER XL 

Embarrassment of the Pope The Triumphs of Charles decide him Ho 
traverses the Cause to Rome Wolsey's Dejection Henry's Wrath 
His Fears Wolsey obtains Comfort Arrival of the two Legates at 

' Grafton Wolsey's Reception by Henry Wolsey and Norfolk at Din- 
ner Henry with Anne Conference between the King and the Cardi- 
nal Wolsey's Joy and Grief The Supper at Euston Campeggio's 
farewell Audience Wolsey's Disgrace Campeggio at Dover He is 
accused by the Courtiers Leaves England Wolsey foresees his own 
Fall and that of the Papacy. 

WHILE the court was thus taking its pleasure at Wood- 
stock, Wolsey remained in London a prey to the acutest an- 
guish. " This avocation to Rome," wrote he to Gregory Da 
Casale, " will not only completely alienate the king and his 

* Jamais trop gay, ne trop melancolique, 
Elle a au chef un esprit an^elique, 
Le plus subtil qui one au ciel vola. 
O grand' nierveille ! on peut voir par ccla 
Que je suis serf d'un monstre fort etrange : 
Monstre je dy, car pour tout vray elle a 
Corps fe'miiiin, coeur d'homme et tete d'ango. 



462 THE CAUSE AVOKED TO ROME. 

realm from the apostolic see, but will ruin me utterly."* 
This message had hardly reached the pope, before the im- 
perial ambassadors handed to him the queen's protest, and 
added in a very significant tone : " If your holiness does not 
call this cause before you, the emperor, who is determined to 
bring it to an end, will have recourse to other arguments" 
The same perplexity always agitated Clement : Which ol 
the two must be sacrificed, Henry or Charles ? Anthony de 
Leyva, who commanded the imperial forces, having routed 
the French army, the pope no longer doubted that Charles 
was the elect of Heaven. It was not Europe alone which 
acknowledged this prince's authority ; a new world had just 
laid its power and its gold at his feet. The formidable 
priest-king of the Aztecs had been unable to withstand 
Cortez ; could the priest-king of Rome withstand Charles 
V. ? Cortez had returned from Mexico, bringing with him 
Mexican chiefs in all their barbarous splendour, with thou- 
sands of pesos, with gold and silver and emeralds of extraor- 
dinary size, with magnificent tissues and birds of brilliant 
plumage. He had accompanied Charles, who was then go- 
ing to Italy, to the place of embarkation, and had sent to 
Clement VII. costly gifts of the precious metals, valuable 
jewels, and a troop of Mexican dancers, buffoons, and jug- 
glers, who charmed the pope and the cardinal above all 
things.-}- 

Clement, even while refusing Henry's prayer, had not as 
yet granted the emperor's. He thought he could now resist 
no longer the star of a monarch victorious over two worlds, 
and hastened to enter into negotiations with him. Sudden 
torrors still assailed him from time to time : My refusal (he 
said to himself) may perhaps cause me to lose England. 
But Charles, holding him in his powerful grasp, compelled 
him to submit. Henry's antecedents were rather encouraging 
to the pontiff. How could he imagine that a prince, who 
alone of all the monarchs of Europe had once contended 

* Non solum regium animum et totum hoc regnum a sedis apostolicse 
devotione penitus abalienabit, ac me omnino perdet et funditus destruet. 
State Papers, vii. p. 189 

f Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, book vii. chap. iv. 



PEACE BETWEEN CLEMENT AKD CHARLES. 463 

against the great reformer, would now separate from the 
popedom? On the 6th of July, Clement declared to the 
English envoys that he avoked to Borne the cause between 
Henry VIII. and Catherine of Aragon. In other words, 
this was refusing the divorce. " There are twenty-three 
points in this case," said the courtiers, " and the debate on 
the first has lasted a year ; before the end of the trial, the 
king will be not only past marrying but past living." * 

When he learned that the fatal blow had been struck, 
Bennet, in a tone of sadness, exclaimed : " Alas ! most 
holy father, by this act the Church in England will be utterly 
destroyed; the king declared it to me with tears in his eyes."f 
" Why is it my fortune to live in such evil days ? " re- 
plied the pope, who, in his turn, began to weep ; % " but I 
am encircled by the emperor's forces, and if I were to please 
the king, I should draw a fearful ruin upon myself and upon 
the church God will be my judge." 

On the 15th of July, Da Casale sent the fatal news to the 
English minister. The king was cited before the pope, and 
in case of refusal condemned in a fine of 10,000 ducats. On 
the 18th of July, peace was proclaimed at Rome between the 
pontiff and the emperor, and on the next day (these dates 
are important) Clement, wishing still to make one more at- 
tempt to ward off the blow with which the papacy was 
threatened, wrote to Cardinal Wolsey : " My dear son, how 
can I describe to you my affliction ? Show in this matter 
the prudence which so distinguishes you, and preserve the 
king in those kindly feelings which he has ever manifested 
towards me." A useless attempt ! Far from saving the 
oapacy, Wolsey was to be wrecked along with it. 

Wolsey was thunderstruck. At the very time he was 
assuring Henry of the attachment of Clement and Francis, 
both were deserting him. The " politic handling " failed, 
which the cardinal had thought so skilful, and which had 
been so tortuous. Henry now had none but enemies on the 
continent of Europe, and the Reformation was daily spread- 

* Fuller, p. 178. f Barnet, Records, ii. p. xxxvii. Ibid. 

Ut dictum regcm in solita erga nos bencvolentia retinere velis. Ibid. 
p. xxxviii. 



464 HENRY'S ANGER. 

ing over his kingdom. Wolsey's anguish cannot be described. 
His power, his pomp, his palaces were all threatened ; who 
could tell whether he would even preserve his liberty and his 
life. A just reward for so much duplicity. 

But the king's wrath was to be greater than even the 
minister's alarm. His terrified servants wondered how they 
should announce the pontiffs decision. Gardiner, who, after 
his return from Rome, had been named secretary of state, 
went down to Langley on the 3d of August to communicate 
it to him. What news for the proud Tudor ! The decision 
on the divorce was forbidden in England ; the cause avoked 
to Rome, there to be buried and unjustly lost ; Francis I. 
treating with the emperor ; Charles and Clement on the point 
of exchanging at Bologna the most striking signs of their 
unchangeable alliance ; the services rendered by the king to 
the popedom repaid with the blackest ingratitude ; his hope 
of giving an heir to the crown disgracefully frustrated ; and 
last, but not least, Henry VIII., the proudest monarch 01 
Christendom, summoned to Rome to appear before an eccle- 
siastical tribunal it was too much for Henry. His 

wrath, a moment restrained, burst forth like a clap of thun- 
der,* and all trembled around him. " Do they presume," 
he exclaimed, " to try my cause elsewhere than in my own 
dominions ? I, the king of England, summoned before an 

Italian tribunal ! Yes, I will goto Rome, but it shall 

be with such a mighty army that the pope, and his priests, 
and all Italy shall be struck with terror.-J- I forbid the let- 
ters of citation to be executed," he continued ; " I forbid the 
commission to consider its functions at an end." Henry would 
have desired to tear off Campeggio's purple robes, and throw 
this prince of the Roman church into prison, in order to 
frighten Clement ; but the very magnitude of the insult com- 
pelled him to restrain himself. He feared above' all things 
to appear humbled in the eyes of England, and he hoped, by 
showing moderation, to hide the affront he had received. 

* He became much incensed. Herbert, p. 287. Supra quam dici po- 
test excanduit. Sanders, p. 50. 

f He would do the same with such a mayn [great] and army royal, as 
should be formidable to the pope and all Italy. State Papers, vii. p. 194. 
Burnet, Records, p. xxxvii. 



HE CONCEALS HIS AFFRONT. 465 

" Let everything be done," he told Gardiner, " to conceal 
from my subjects these letters of citation, which are sa hurt- 
ful to my glory. Write to Wolsey that I have the greatest 
confidence in his dexterity, and that he ought, by good hand- 
ling, to win over Campeggio * and the queen's counsellors ; 
and, above all, prevail upon them at any price not to serve 
these citatory letters on me." But Henry had hardly given 
his instructions when the insult of which he had been the 
object recurred to his imagination ; the thought of Clement 
haunted him night and day, and he swore to exact a strik- 
ing vengeance from the pontiff. Rome desires to have no 

more to do with England England in her turn will cast 

off Rome. Henry will sacrifice Wolsey, Clement, and the 
church ; nothing shall stop his fury. The crafty pontiff has 
concealed his game, the king shall beat him openly ; and 
from age to age the popedom shall shed tears over the im- 
prudent folly of a Medici. . 
Thus after insupportable delays, which had fatigued the 
nation, a thunderbolt fell upon England. Court, clergy, and 
people,-from whom it was impossible to conceal these great 
events, were deeply stirred, and the whole kingdom was in 
commotion. Wolsey, still hoping to ward off the ruin im- 
pending over both himself and the papacy, immediately put 
in play all that dexterity which Henry had spoken of; he so 
far prevailed that the letters citatorial were not served on the 
king, but only the brief addressed to Wolsey by Clement 
VII.-J- The cardinal, all radiant with this trivial success, and 
desirous of profiting by it to raise his credit, resolved to ac- 
company Campeggio, who was going down to Grafton to 
take leave of the king. When the coming of the two legates 
was heard of at court, the agitation was very great. The 
dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk regarded this proceeding as the 
last effort of their enemy, and entreated Henry not to receive 
him. " The king will receive him," said some. " The king 
will not receive him," answered others. At length, one Sun- 
day morning, it was announced that the prelates were at the 

Your grace's dexterity by good handling of the Cardinal Cam- 

peggio. State Papers, vol. i. p. 336. 
t Ibid. p. 343. 

U2 



466 WOLSEY'S DISFAVOUU. 

gates of the mansion. Wolsey looked round with an anxious 
eye for the great officers who were accustomed to introduce 
him. They appeared, and desired Campeggio to follow them. 
When the legate had been taken to his apartments, Wolsey 
waited his turn ; but great was his consternation on being 
informed that there was no chamber appointed for him in the 
palace. Sir Henry Norris, groom of the stole, offered Wolsey 
the use of his own room, and the cardinal followed him, al- 
most sinking beneath the humiliation he had undergone.* 
He made ready to appear before the king, and summoning 
up his courage, proceeded to the presence-chamber. 

The lords of the council were standing in a row according 
to their rank ; Wolsey, taking off his hat, passed along, 
saluting each of them with affected civility. A great num- 
ber of courtiers arrived, impatient to see how Henry would 
receive his old favourite ; and most of them were already ex- 
ulting in the striking disgrace of which they hoped to be 
witnesses. At last the king was announced. 

Henry stood under the cloth of state ; and Wolsey ad- 
vanced and knelt before him. Deep silence prevailed through- 
out the chamber To the surprise of all, Henry stooped 

down and raised him up with both hands Then, with a 

pleasing smile, he took Wolsey to the window, desired him 
to put on his hat, and talked familiarly with him. " Then," 
says Cavendish, the cardinal's gentleman usher, " it would 
have made you smile to behold the countenances of those who 
had laid wagers that the king would not speak with him." 

But this was the last ray of evening which then lighted 
up the darkening fortunes of Wolsey : the star of his favour 

was about to set for ever The silence continued, for every 

one desired to catch a few words of the conversation. The 
king seemed to be accusing Wolsey, and Wolsey to be jus- 
tifying himself. On a sudden Henry pulled a letter out of 
his bosom, and showing it to the cardinal, said in a loud 
voice: "How can that be? is not this your hand?" It 
was no doubt the letter which Bryan had intercepted. Wol- 
sey replied in an under-tone, and seemed to have appeased 
his master. The dinner hour having arrived, the king left 
* Cavendish, p. 237-245. 



WOLSEY'S RECEPTION. 467 

the room, telling Wolsey that he would not fail to see him 
again ; the courtiers were eager to make their profoundest 
reverences to the cardinal, hut he haughtily traversed tho 
chamber, and the dukes hastened to carry to Anne Boleyn 
the news of this astonishing reception. 

Wolsey, Campeggio, and the lords of the council sat down 
to dinner. The cardinal, well aware that the terrible letter 
would be his utter ruin, and that Henry's good graces had 
no other object than to prepare his fall, began to hint at his 
retirement. " Truly," said he with a devout air, " the king 
would do well to send his bishops and chaplains home to their 
cures and benefices." The company looked at one another 
with astonishment. " Yea, marry," said the duke of Nor- 
folk somewhat rudely, " and so it were meet for you to do 
also." " I should be very well contented therewith," an- 
swered Wolsey, " if it were the king's pleasure to license 
me with leave to go to my cure at Winchester." " Nay, to 
your benefice at York, where your greatest honour and 
charge is," replied Norfolk, who was not willing that Wolsey 
should be living so near Henry. " Even as it shall please 
the king," added Wolsey, and changed the subject of con- 
versation. 

Henry had caused himself to be announced to Anne Bo- 
leyn, who (says Cavendish) "kept state at Grafton more 
like a queen than a simple maid." Possessing extreme sen- 
sibility, and an ardent imagination, Anne, who felt the 
slightest insult with all the sensibility of her woman's heart, 
was very dissatisfied with the king after the report of the 
dukes. Accordingly, heedless of the presence of the attend- 
ants, she said to him : " Sir, is it not a marvellous thing to 
see into what great danger the cardinal hath brought you 
with all your subjects?" "How so, sweetheart?" asked 
Henry. Anne continued: "Are you ignorant of the ha- 
tred his exactions have drawn upon you ? There is not a 
man in your whole realm of England worth one hundred 
pounds, but he hath made you his debtor." Anne here 
alluded to the loan the king had raised among his subjects. 
" Well, well," said Henry, who was not pleased with these 
remarks, " I know that matter better than you." " If my 



468 WOLSEY'S LAST INTERVIEW. 

lord of Norfolk, my lord of Suffolk, my uncle, or my father 
had done much less than the cardinal hath done," continued 
Anne, " they would have lost their heads ere this." " Then 
I perceive," said Henry, "you are none of his friends." 
" No, sir, I have no cause, nor any that love you," she re- 
plied. The dinner was ended ; the king, without appearing 
at all touched, proceeded to the presence-chamber, where 
Wolsey expected him. 

After a long conversation, carried on in a low tone, the 
king took Wolsey by the hand and led him into his private 
chamber. The courtiers awaited impatiently the termina- 
tion of an interview which might decide the fate of England ; 
they walked up and down the gallery, often passing before 
the door of the closet, in the hope of catching from Wolsey's 
looks, when he opened it, the result of this secret confer- 
ence ; but one quarter of an hour followed another, these 
became hours, and still the cardinal did not appear. Henry 
having resolved that this conversation should be the last, 
was no doubt collecting from his minister all the informa- 
tion necessary to him. But the courtiers imagined he was 
returning into his master's favour ; Norfolk, Suffolk, Wilt- 
shire, and the other enemies of the prime minister, began to 
grow alarmed, and hastened off to Anne Boleyn, who was 
their last hope. 

It was night when the king and Wolsey quitted the royal 
closet ; the former appeared gracious, the latter satisfied ; it 
was always Henry's custom to smile on those he intended 
to sacrifice. " I shall see you in the morning," he said to 
the cardinal with a friendly air. Wolsey made a low bow, 
and, turning round to the courtiers, saw the king's smile 
reflected on their faces. Wiltshire, Tuke, and even Suffolk, 
were full of civility. " Well," thought he, " the motion of 
such weathercocks as these shows me from what quarter the 
wind of favour is blowing."* 

But a moment after the wind began to change. Men 

with torches waited for the cardinal at the gates of the palace 

to conduct him to the place where he would have to pass 

the night. Thus he was not to sleep beneath the samo 

* Burnet's Ref. vol. i. p. 59. 



THE SDPPER AT EUSTON. 469 

roof with Henry. He was to lie at Euston, one of Empson's 
houses, about three miles off. Wolsey, repressing his vex- 
ation, mounted his horse, the footmen preceded him with 
their links, and after an hour's riding along very bad roads 
he reached the lodging assigned him. 

He had sat down to supper, to which some of his most in- 
timate friends had been invited, when suddenly Gardiner 
was announced. Gardiner owed everything to the cardinal, 
and yet he had not appeared before him since his return 
from Rome. He comes no doubt to play the hypocrite and 
the spy, thought Wolsey. But as soon as the secretary en- 
tered, Wolsey rose, made him a graceful compliment, and 
prayed him to take a seat. " Master Secretary," he asked, 
" where have you been since your return from Rome ?" " I 
have been following the court from place to place." " You 
have been hunting then ? Have you any dogs ?" asked the 
prime minister, who knew very well what Gardiner had 
been doing in the king's closet. " A few," replied Gardiner. 
Wolsey thought that even the secretary was a bloodhound 
on his track. And yet after supper he took Gardiner aside, 
and conversed with him until midnight. He thought it pru- 
dent to neglect nothing that might clear up his position ; 
and Wolsey sounded Gardiner, just as he himself had been 
sounded by Henry not long before. 

The same night at Grafton the king gave Campeggio a 
farewell audience, and treated him very kindly, " by giving 
him presents and other matters," says Du Bellay. Henry 
then returned to Anne Boleyn. The dukes had pointed out 
to her the importance of the present moment; she therefore 
asked and obtained of Henry, without any great difficulty, 
his promise never to speak to his minister again.* The in- 
sults of the papacy had exasperated the king of England, 
and as he could not punish Clement, he took his revenge on 
the cardinal. 

The next morning, Wolsey, impatient to have the inter- 
view which Henry had promised, rode back early to Grafton. 
But as he came near, he met a numerous train of servants 

* Du Bellay to the Grand Master. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 375 ; also 
Cavendish. 



470 CAMPEGGIO SEARCHED AT DOVEK.* 

and sumpter-horses ; and presently afterwards Henry, with 
Anne Boleyn and many lords and ladies of the court, came 
riding up. " What does all this mean ? " thought the cardi- 
nal in dismay. " My lord," said the king, as he drew near, 
" I cannot stay with you now. You will return to London 
with cardinal Campeggio." Then striking the spurs into his 
horse, Henry galloped off with a friendly salutation. After 
him came Anne Boleyn, who rode past Wolsey with head 
erect, and casting on him a proud look. The court proceeded 
to Hartwell Park, where Anne had determined to keep the 
king all day. Wolsey was confounded. There was no room 
for doubt; his disgrace was certain. His head swam, he 
remained immovable for an instant, and then recovered him- 
self; but the blow he had received had not been unobserved 
by the courtiers, and the cardinal's fall became the general 
topic of conversation. 

After dinner, the legates departed, and on the second day 
reached Moor Park, a mansion built by Archbishop Neville, 
one of Wolsey's predecessors, who for high treason had been 
first imprisoned at Calais, and afterwards at Ham. These 
recollections were by no means agreeable to Wolsey. The 
next morning the two cardinals separated ; Campeggio pro- 
ceeded to Dover, and Wolsey to London. 

Campeggio was impatient to get out of England, and great 
was his annoyance, on reaching Dover, to find that the wind 
was contrary. But a still greater vexation was in reserve. 
He had hardly lain down to rest himself, before his door was 
opened, and a band of sergeants entered the room. The 
cardinal, who knew what scenes of this kind meant in Italy, 
thought he was a dead man,* and fell trembling at his chap- 
lain's feet begging for absolution. Meantime the officers 
opened his luggage, broke into his chests, scattered his 
property about the floor, and even shook out his clothes.-j- 

Henry's tranquillity had not been of long duration. 
" Campeggio is the bearer of letters from Wolsey to Rome," 
whispered some of the courtiers ; " who knows but they con- 
tain treasonable matter ? " " There is, too, among his papers 

* Lc Grand, TO!, ii. p. 156. Life of Campeggio, by Sigonius. 
t Sarcinas excuti jussit. Sanders, p. 51. 



CHARGES AGAINST CAMPEGGIO. 471 

the famous decretal pronouncing the divorce," said one ; " if 
we had but that document it would finish the business." 
Another affirmed that Campeggio " had large treasure with 
him of my lord's (Wolsey's) to be conveyed in great tuns to 
Rome,"* whither it was surmised the cardinal of York would 
escape to enjoy the fruits of his treason. " It is certain," 
added a third, " that Campeggio, assisted by Wolsey, has 
been able to procure your majesty's correspondence with 
Anne Boleyn, and is carrying it away with him." Henry, 
therefore, sent a messenger after the nuncio, with orders 
that his baggage should be thoroughly searched. 

Nothing was found, neither letters, nor bull, nor treasures. 
The bull had been destroyed ; the treasures Wolsey had never 
thought of intrusting to his colleague ; and the letters of 
Anne and Henry, Campeggio had sent on before by his son 
Rodolph, and the pope was stretching out his hands to re- 
ceive them, proud, like his successors, of the robbery com- 
mitted by two of his legates. 

Campeggio being reassured, and seeing that he was neither 
to be killed nor robbed, made a great noise at this act of 
violence, and at the insulting remarks which had given rise 
to it. " I will not leave England," he caused Henry to be 
informed, " until I have received satisfaction." " My lord 
forgets that he is legate no longer," replied the king, " since 
the pope has withdrawn his powers ; he forgets, besides, that, 
as bishop of Salisbury, he is my subject ; as for the remarks 
against him and the cardinal of York, it is a liberty the 
people of England are accustomed to take, and which I can- 
not put down." Campeggio, anxious to reach France, was 
satisfied with these reasons, and soon forgot all his sorrows 
at the sumptuous table of Cardinal Duprat. 

Wolsey Avas not so fortunate. He had seen Campeggio 
go away, and remained like a wrecked seaman thrown on a 
desert isle, who has seen depart the only friends capable of 
giving him any help. His necromancy had forewarned him 
that this would be a fatal year.f The angel of the maid of 

* Cavendish, p. 246. See also Le Grand, ii. p. 258. 
t He had learnt of his necromancy that this would be a feopardous 
year for him. Tyndale's Works, i. p. 480. 



472 HOME IN DANGER. 

Kent had said : " Go to the cardinal and announce his fall } 
because he has not done what you had commanded him to 
do."* Other -voices besides hers made themselves heard: 
the hatred of the nation, the contempt of Europe, and, above 
all, Henry's anger, told him that his hour was come. It was 
true the pope said that he would do all in his power to save 
him ; -j- but Clement's good offices would only accelerate his 
ruin. Du Bellay, whom the people believed to be the car- 
dinal's accomplice, bore witness to the change that had taken 
place in men's minds. While passing on foot through the 
streets of the capital, followed by two valets, " his ears were 
so filled with coarse jests as he went along," he said, " that 
he knew not which way to turn." J " The cardinal is utterly 
undone," he wrote, " and I see not how he can escape." 
The idea occurred to Wolsey, from time to time, to pronounce 
the divorce himself; but it was too late. He was even 
told that his life was in danger. Fortune, blind and bald, 
her foot on the wheel, fled rapidly from him, nor was it in 
his power to stop her. And this was not all : after him (he 
thought) there was no one who could uphold the church of 
the pontiffs in England. Tfce ship of Rome was sailing on 
a stormy sea among rocks and shoals ; Wolsey at the helm 
looked in vain for a "port of refuge ; the vessel leaked on 
every side ; it was rapidly sinking, and the cardinal uttered 
a cry of distress. Alas ! he had desired to save Rome, but 
Rome would not have it so. 



CHAPTER XII. 

A Meeting at Waltham Youth of Thomas Cranmer His early Educa- 
tion Studies Scripture for three Years His Functions as Examiner 
the Supper at Waltham New View of the Divorce Fox communi- 
cates it to Henry Cranmer's Vexation Conference with the King 
Cranmer at the Boleyns. 

As Wolsey's star was disappearing in the West in the 
midst of stormy clouds, another was rising in the East, tc 

* Strype, i. p. 373. f Herbert, p. 289. 

J Du Bellay to Mortmorency, 12th October. Le Grand, Preuves,p. 365. 



THOMAS CRANMER. 473 

point out the way to save Britain. Men, like stars, appeal 
on the horizon at the command of God. 

On his return from Woodstock to Greenwich, Henry 
stopped full of anxiety at Waltham in Essex. His atten- 
dants were lodged in the houses of the neighbourhood. 
Fox, the almoner, and Secretary Gardiner, were quartered 
on a gentleman named Cressy, at Waltham Abbey. When 
supper was announced, Gardiner and Fox were surprised to 
see an old friend enter the room. It was Thomas Cran- 
mer, a Cambridge doctor. "What! is it you?" they said, 
" and how came you here?" " Our host's wife is my rela- 
tion," replied Cranmer, " and as the epidemic is raging at 
Cambridge, I brought home my friend's sons, who are under 
my care." As this new personage is destined to play an 
important part in the history of the Reformation, it may be 
worth our while to interrupt our narrative, and give a par- 
ticular account of him. 

Cranmer was descended from an ancient family, which 
came into England, as is generally believed, with the Con- 
queror. He was born at Aslacton in Nottinghamshire on 
the 2d July 1489, six years after.Luther. His early educa- 
tion had been very much neglected ; his tutor, an ignorant 
and severe priest, had taught him little else than patiently to 
endure severe chastisement a knowledge destined to be 
very useful to him in after-life. His father was an honest 
country gentleman, who cared for little besides hunting, rac- 
ing, and military sports. At this school, the son learned to 
ride, to handle the bow and the sword, to fish, and to hawk ; 
and he never entirely neglected these exercises, which he 
thought essential to his health. Thomas Cranmer was fond 
of walking, of the charms of nature, and of solitary medita- 
tions ; and a hill, near his father's mansion, used often to be 
shown where he was wont to sit, gazing on the fertile coun- 
try at his feet, fixing his eyes on the distant spires, listening 
with melancholy pleasure to the chime of the bells, and in- 
dulging in sweet contemplations. About 1504, he was sent 
to Cambridge, where " barbarism still prevailed," says an 
historian.* His^Iain, noble, and modest air conciliated the 

* Faoda barbaries. Melch. Adam. Vitze TheoL L 
VOL. V. 21 



474 CRANMER'S FIRST MARRIAGE. 

affections of many, and, in 1510, he was elected fellow of 
Jesus College. Possessing a tender heart, he became at- 
tached, at the age of twenty-three, to a young person of 
good birth, (says Foxe,) or of inferior rank, as other writers 
assert. Cranmer was unwilling to imitate the disorderly 
lives of his fellow-students, and although marriage would 
necessarily close the career of honours, he married the young 
lady, resigned his fellowship (in conformity with the regula- 
tions), and took a modest lodging at the Dolphin. He then 
began to study earnestly the most remarkable writings of 
the times, polishing, it has been said, his old asperity on the 
productions of Erasmus, of Lefevre of Etaples, and other 
great authors ; every day his crude understanding received 
new brilliancy.* He then began to teach in Buckingham 
(afterwards Magdalene) College, and thus provided for his 
wants. 

His lessons excited the admiration of enlightened men, 
and the anger of obscure ones, who disdainfully called him 
(because of the inn at which he lodged) the hostler. " This 
name became him well," said Fuller, " for in his lessons he 
roughly rubbed the backs of the friars, and famously curried 
the hides of the lazy priests." His wife dying a year after 
his marriage, Cranmer was re-elected fellow of his old col- 
lege, and the first writing of Luther's having appeared, he 
said : " I must know on which side the truth lies. There 
is only one infallible source, the Scriptures ; in them I will 
seek for God's truth." f And for three years he constantly 
studied the holy books, J without commentary, without hu- 
man theology, and hence he gained the name of the Scrip- 
turist. At last his eyes were opened ; he saw the mysteri- 
ous bond which unites all biblical revelations, and under- 
stood the completeness of God's design. Then without for- 
saking the Scriptures, he studied all kinds of authors. He 

* Ad eos non aliter quam ad cotem, quotidie priscam detergebat 
scabritiem. Melch. Adam. Vitse Theol. i. 

f Behold the very fountains. Foxe, viii. p. 4. 

J Totum triennium Sacra Scripturse monumentis perlegendis impendit. 
M. Adam. p. 1. * 

Like a merchant greedy of all good things. Foxe, riii, p. 4. 



CRANMER ON THE DIVORCE. 475 

was a slow reader, but a close observer;* he never opened 
a book without having a pen in his hand. 7 He did not 
take up with any particular party or age ; but possessing a 
free and philosophic mind, he weighed all opinions in the 
balance of his judgment, { taking the Bible for his standard. 

Honours soon came upon him ; he was made successively 
doctor of divinity, professor, university preacher, and ex- 
aminer. He used to say to the candidates for the ministry : 
*' Christ sendeth his hearers to the Scriptures, and not to the 
church." "But," replied the monks, "they are so diffi- 
cult." " Explain the obscure passages by those which are 
clear," rejoined the professor, " Scripture by Scripture. Seek, 
pray, and he who has the key of David will open them to 
you." The monks, affrighted at this task, withdrew burst- 
ing with anger ; and erelong Cranmer's name was a name 
of dread in every convent. Some, however, submitted to 
the labour, and one of them, Doctor Barrett, blessed God 
that the examiner had turned him back ; " for," said he, " I 
found the knowledge of God in the holy book he compelled 
me to study." Cranmer toiled at the same work as Latimer, 
Stafford, and Bilney. 

Fox and Gardiner having renewed acquaintance with 
their old friend at Waltham Abbey, they sat down to table, 
and both the almoner and the secretary asked the doctor 
what he thought of the divorce. It was the usual topic of 
conversation, and not long before, Cranmer had been named 
member of a commission appointed to give their opinion on 
this affair. " You are not in the right path," said Cranmer 
to his friends ; " you should not cling to the decisions of the 
church. There is a surer and a shorter way which alone 
can give peace to the king's conscience." " What is that ? " 
they both asked. " The true question is this," replied Cran- 
mer : " What says the word of God ? If God has declared a 
marriage of this nature lad, the pope cannot make it good. 
Discontinue these interminable Roman negotiations. When 

Tardus quidem lector sed vehemens observator. M. Adam. p. 1. 
f Sine calamo nunquam ad scriptoris cujusquam librum accessit. Ibid. 
J Omnes omnium opmiones tacito secum judicio trutinabat. Ibid. 
| Cranmer's Works, p. 17, 18. 



476 CBANMER MADE KNOWN TO THE KING. 

God has spcken, man must obey." "But how shall we 
know what God has said?" "Consult the universities; 
they will discern it more surely than Rome." 

This was a new view. The idea of consulting the uni- 
versities had been acted upon before ; but then their own 
opinions only had been demanded ; now, the question was 
3imply to know what God says in his word. " The word 'of 
God is above the church," was the principle laid down by 
Cranmer, and in that principle consisted the whole of the 
Reformation. The conversation at the supper-table of 
Waltham was destined to be one of those secret springs 
which an invisible Hand sets in motion for the accomplish- 
ment of his great designs. The Cambridge doctor, suddenly 
transported from his study to the foot of the throne, was on 
the point of becoming one of the principal instruments of 
Divine wisdom. 

The day after this conversation, Fox and Gardiner ar- 
rived at Greenwich, and the king summoned them into his 
presence the same evening. " Well, gentlemen," he said to 
them, " our holidays are over ; what shall we do now ? If 
we still have recourse to Rome, God knows when we shall 
see the end of this matter."* " It will not be necessary to 
take so long a journey," said Fox ; " we know a shorter 
and surer way." "What is it?" asked the king eagerly. 
" Doctor Cranmer, whom we met yesterday at Waltham, 
thinks that the Bible should be the sole judge in your 
cause." Gardiner, vexed at his colleague's frankness, de- 
sired to claim all the honour of this luminous idea for him- 
self; but Henry did not listen to him. " Where, is Doctor 
Cranmer?" said he, much affected.-}- " Send, and fetch him 
immediately. Mother of God! (this was his customary 
oath) this man has the right sow by the ear.:}: If this had 
only been suggested to me two years ago, what expense and 
trouble I should have been spared ! " 

Cranmer had gone into Nottinghamshire; a messenger 
followed and brought him back. " Why have you en- 
tangled me in this affair?" he said to Fox and Gardiner, 

* God knoAvs, and not I. Foxe, viii. 7. 

t Burnet, vol. i. r> 60. J Ibid. 



CRANMER'S CHARACTER. 477 

u Pray make my excuses to the king." Gardiner, who 
wished for nothing better, promised to do all he could ; but 
it was of no use. " I will have no excuses," said Henry. 
The wily courtier was obliged to make up his mind to in- 
troduce the ingenuous and upright man, to whom that sta- 
tion, which he himself had so coveted, was one day to 
belong. Cranmer and Gardiner went down to Greenwich, 
both alike dissatisfied. 

Cranmer was then forty years of age, with pleasing fea- 
tures, and mild and winning eyes, in which the candour of 
his soul seemed to be reflected. Sensible to "the pains as 
well as to the pleasures of the heart, he was destined to be 
more exposed than other men to anxieties and falls; a 
peaceful life in some remote parsonage would have been 
more to his taste than the court of Henry VIII. Blessed 
with a generous mind, unhappily he did not possess the 
firmness necessary in a public man ; a little stone sufficed 
to make him stumble. His excellent understanding showed 
him the better way ; but his great timidity made him fear 
the more dangerous. He was rather too fond of relying 
upon the power of men, and made them unhappy conces- 
sions with too great facility. If the king had questioned 
him, he would never have dared advise so bold a course as 
that he had pointed out ; the advice had slipped from him 
at table during the intimacy of familiar conversation. Yet 
he was sincere, and after doing everything to escape from the 
consequences of his frankness, he was ready to maintain the 
opinion he had given. 

Henry, perceiving Cranmer's timidity, graciously ap- 
proached him. " What is your name?" said the king, en- 
deavouring to put him at his ease. " Did you not meet 
my secretary and my almoner at Waltham ? " And then 
he' added: "Did you not speak to them of my great affair?" 
repeating the words ascribed to Cranmer. The latter 
could not retreat : " Sir, it is true, I did say so." " I see," 
replied the king with animation, " that you have found the 
breach through which we must storm the fortress. Now, 
sir doctor, I beg you, and as you are my subject I command 
you, to lay aside every other occupation, and to bring my 



478 CRANMER MEETS ANNE BOLEYN. 

cause to a conclusion in conformity with the ideas you have 
put forth. All that I desire to know is, whether my mar- 
riage is contrary to the laws of God or net. Employ all 
your skill in investigating the subject, and thus bring comfort 
to my conscience as well as to the queen's."* 

Cranmer was confounded; he recoiled from the idea of 
deciding an affair on which depended, it might be, the 
destinies of the nation, and sighed after the lonely fields of 
Aslacton. But grasped by the vigorous hand of Henry, he 
was compelled to advance. " Sir," said he, " pray intrust 
this matter to doctors more learned than I am." " I am 
very willing," answered the king, " but I desire that you 
will also give me your opinion in writing." And then sum- 
moning the earl of Wiltshire to his presence, he said to him: 
" My lord, you will receive Doctor Cranmer into your house 
at Durham Place, and let him have all necessary quiet to 
compose a report for which I have asked him." After this 
precise command, which admitted of no refusal, Henry 
withdrew. 

In this manner was Cranmer introduced by the king to 
Anne Boleyn's father, and not, as some Romanist authors 
have asserted, by Sir Thomas Boleyn to the king.-J- Wilt- 
shire conducted Cranmer to Durham House (now the Adelphi 
in the Strand), and the pious doctor, on whom Henry had 
imposed these quarters, soon contracted a close friendship 
with Anne and her father, and took advantage of it to teach 
them the value of the divine word, as the pearl of great 
price.\ Henry, while profiting by the address of a Wolsey 
and a Gardiner, paid little regard to the men; but he re- 
spected Cranmer, even when opposed to him in opinion, and 
until his death placed the learned doctor above all his cour- 
tiers and all his clerks. The pious man often succeeds 
better, even with the great ones of this world, than the am- 
bitious and the intriguing. 

* For the discharging of both our consciencies. Foxe, viii. p. 8. 
f Sanders, p. 57 ; Lingard, vol. vi. chap. iii. Compare Foxe, vol. viii. 
p 8. 
J Teque nobilis illius margaritse desiderio teneri. Erasm. Epp. p. 1754. 



WOLSEY IN THE COURT OF CHANCERY. 479 



CHAPTER XIII. 

vVolsey in the Court of Chancery Accused by the Dukes Refuses to 
give up the Great Seal His Despair He gives up the Seal Order to 
depart His Inventory Alarm The Scene of Departure Favourable 
Message from the King Wolsey's Joy His Fool Arrival at Esher. 

WHILE Cranmer was rising notwithstanding his humility, 
Wolsey was falling in despite of his stratagems. The car- 
dinal still governed the kingdom, gave instructions to am- 
bassadors, negotiated with princes, and filled his sumptuous 
palaces with his haughtiness. The king could not make up 
his mind to turn him off; the force of habit, the need he had 
of him, the recollection of the services Henry had received 
from him, pleaded in his favour. Wolsey without the seals 
appeared almost as inconceivable as the king without his 
crown. Yet the fall of one of the most powerful favourites 
recorded in history was inevitably approaching, and we must 
now describe it. 

On the 9th of October, after the Michaelmas vacation, 
Wolsey, desirous of showing a bold face, went and opened 
the high court of chancery with his accustomed pomp; but 
he noticed, with uneasiness, that none of the king's servants 
walked before him, as they had been accustomed to do. 
He presided on the bench with an inexpressible depression 
of spirits, and the various members of the court sat before 
him with an absent air; there was something gloomy and 
solemn in this sitting, as if all were taking part in a funeral ; 
it was destined indeed to be the last act of the cardinal's 
power. Some days before (F oxe says on the 1st of October) 
the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, with other lords of the 
privy-council, had gone down to Windsor, and denounced to 
the king Wolsey's unconstitutional relations with the pope, 
his usurpations, " his robberies, and the discords sown by 
his means between Christian princes."* Such motives 

* Du Bellay to Montmorency, 22d October. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 
377. 



480 THE CARDINAL'S LAST SITTING. 

would not have sufficed; but Henry had stronger. Wolsey 
had not kept any of his promises in the matter of the 
divorce; it would even appear that he had advised the pope 
to excommunicate the king, and thus raise his people against 
him.* This enormity was not at that time known hy the 
prince; it is even probable that it did not take place until 
later. But Henry knew enough, and he gave his attorney- 
general, Sir Christopher Hales, orders to prosecute Wolsey. 

Whilst the heart-broken cardinal was displaying his 
authority for the last time in the court of chancery, the 
attorney-general was accusing him in the king's bench for 
having obtained papal bulls conferring on him a jurisdiction 
which encroached on the royal power ; and calling for the 
application of the penalties of prcemunire. The two dukes 
received orders to demand the seals from Wolsey ; and the 
latter, informed of what had taken place, did not .quit his 
palace oh the 10th, expecting every moment the arrival of 
the messengers of the king's anger ; but no one appeared. 

The next day the two dukes arrived : " It is the king's 
good pleasure," said they to the cardinal, who remained 
seated in his arm-chair, " that you give up the broad seal 
to us and retire to Esher" (a country-seat near Hampton 
Court). Wolsey, whose presence of mind never failed him, 
demanded to see the commission under which they were 
acting. " We have our orders from his majesty's mouth," 
said they. " That may be sufficient for you," replied the 
cardinal, " but not for me. The great seal of England was 
delivered to me by the hands of my sovereign ; I may not 
deliver it at the simple word of any lord, unless you can 
show me your commission." Suffolk broke out into a pas- 
sion, but Wolsey remained calm, and the two dukes re- 
turned to Windsor. This was the cardinal's last triumph. 

The rumour of his disgrace created an immense sensation 
at court, in the city, and among the foreign ambassadors. 
Du Bellay hastened to York Place (Whitehall) to contem- 
plate this great ruin and console his unhappy friend. He 
found Wolsey, with dejected countenance and lustreless 
eyes, " shrunk to half his wonted size," wrote the ambas- 
* Ranke, Deutsche Geschichte, iii. p. 140. 



HE GIVES r:' THE GREAT SEAL. 481 

sador to Montmorency, "the greatest example of fortune 
nhich was ever beheld." Wolsey desired " to set forth his 
case" to him ; but his thoughts were confused, his language 
broken, " for heart and tongue both failed him entirely;" he 
burst into tears. The ambassador regarded him with com- 
passion : "Alas!" thought he, "his enemies cannot but 
foel pity for him." At last the unhappy cardinal recovered 
his speech, but only to give way to despair. " I desire no 
more authority," he exclaimed, " nor the pope's legation, nor 
the broad seal of England I am ready to give up every- 
thing, even to my shirt.* I can live in a hermitage, 

provided the king does not hold me in disgrace." The am- 
bassador " did all he could to comfort him," when Wolsey, 
catching at the plank thrown out to him, exclaimed: "Would 
that the king of France and madame might pray the king 
to moderate his anger against me. But, above all," lie 
added in alarm, " take care the king never knows that I 
have solicited this of you." Du Bellay wrote indeed to 
France, that the king and madame alone could " withdraw 
their affectionate servant from the gates of hell ; " and Wolsey 
being informed of these despatches, his hopes recovered a 
little. But this bright gleam did not last long. 

On Sunday the 17th of October, Norfolk and Suffolk re- 
appeared at Whitehall, accompanied by Fitzwilliam, Taylor, 
and Gardiner, Wolsey's former dependant. It was six in 
the evening ; they found the cardinal in an upper chamber, 
near the great gallery, and presented the king's orders to 
him. Having read them, he said : " I am happy to obey 
his majesty's commands;" then, having ordered the great 
seal to be brought him, he took it out of the white leather 
case in which he kept it, and handed it to the dukes, who 
placed it in a box, covered with crimson velvet, and orna- 
mented with the arms of England,-}- ordered Gardiner to seal 
it up with red wax, and gave it to Taylor to convey to the 
king. 

Wolsey was thunderstruck; he was to drink the bitter 
cup even to the dregs : he was ordered to leave his palace 

Du Bellay to Montmorency. L Grand, Preuves, p. 371. 
t In quadam theca de veluto crimisino. Rymer Act. p. 138. 

21* T 



482 WOLSEY'S LAST HOPES. 

forthwith, taking with him neither clothes, linen, nor plate ; 
the dukes had feared that he would convey away his treas- 
ures. Wolsey comprehended the greatness of his misery ; 
he found strength however to say: " Since it is the king's 
good pleasure to take my house and all it contains, I am 
content to retire to Esher." The dukes left him. 

Wolsey remained alone. This astonishing man, who had 
risen from a butcher's shop to the summit of earthly great- 
ness who, for a word that displeased him, sent his master's 
most faithful servants (Pace for instance) to the Tower, 
and who had governed England as if he had been its mon- 
arch, and even more, for he had governed without a parliar 
ment was driven out, and thrown, as it were, upon a 
dunghill. A sudden hope flashed like lightning through 
his mind ; perhaps the magnificence of the spoils would 
appease Henry. Was not Esau pacified by Jacob's present? 
Wolsey summoned his officers : " Set tables in the great 
gallery," he said to them, " and place on them all I have 
intrusted to your care, in order to render me an account." 
These orders were executed immediately. The tables were 
covered with an immense quantity of rich stuffs, silks and 
velvet? of all colours, costly furs, rich copes and other 
ecclesiastical vestures ; the walls were hung with cloth of 
gold and silver, and webs of a valuable stuff named baudy- 
kin,* from the looms of Damascus, and with tapestry, 
representing scriptural subjects or stories from the old 
romances of chivalry. The gilt chamber and the council 
;.hamber, adjoining the gallery, were both filled with plate, 
.11 which the gold and silver were set with pearls and pre- 
cious stones : these articles of luxury were so abundant that 
basketfuls of costly plate, which had fallen out of fashion, 
were stowed away under the tables. On every table was an 
exact list of the treasures with which it was loaded, for the 
most perfect order and regularity prevailed in the cardinal's 
household. Wolsey cast a glance of hope upon this wealth, 
and ordered his officers to deliver the whole to his majesty. 

* Baldekinum, pannus omnium ditissimus cujus utpote stamen ex filo 
auri, subtegmeu ex serico texitnr, plumario opere intertextus. Ducange'a 
Glossary. 



WOLSEY LEAVES WHITEHALL. 483 

He then prepared to leave his magnificent palace. That 
moment, of itself so sad, was made sadder still by an act of 
affectionate indiscretion. " Ah, my lord," said his treasurer, 
Sir William Gascoigne, moved even to tears, " your grace 
will be sent to the Tower." This was too much for Wolsey : 
to go and join his victims! He grew angry, and ex- 
claimed : " Is this the best comfort you can give your 
master in adversity ? I would have you and all such blas- 
phemous reporters know that it is untrue." 

It was necessary to depart ; he put round his neck a 
chain of gold, from which hung a pretended relic of the 
true cross; this was all he took. "Would to God," he 
exclaimed, as he placed it on, "that I had never had 
any other." This he said, alluding to the legate's cross 
which used to be carried before him with so much pomp. 
He descended the back stairs, followed by his servants, 
some silent and dejected, others weeping bitterly, and 
proceeded to the river's brink, where a barge awaited 
him. But, alas! it was not alone. The Thames was 
covered with innumerable boats full of men and women. 
The inhabitants of London, expecting to see the cardinal led 
to the Tower, desired to be present at his humiliation, and 
prepared to accompany -him. Cries of joy hailing his fall 
were heard from every side ; nor were the crudest sarcasms 
wanting. " The butcher's dog will bite no more," said some ; 
" look, how he hangs his head." In truth, the unhappy man, 
distressed by a sight so new to him, lowered those eyes 
which were once so proud, but now were filled with bitter 
tears. This man, who had made all England tremble, was 
then like a withered leaf carried along the stream. All his 
servants were moved ; even his fool, William Patch, sobbed 
like the rest. "0, wavering and newfangled multitude," 
exclaimed Cavendish, his gentleman usher.* The hopes of 
the citizens were disappointed ; the barge, instead of descend- 
ing the river, proceeded upwards in the direction of Hamp- 
ton Court ; gradually the shouts died away, and the flotilla 
dispersed. 

The silence of the river permitted Wolsey to indulge in 
' Cavendish, Wolsey, p. 251. 



484 HENRY'S GRACIOUS MESSAGE. 

less bitter thoughts ; but it seemed as if invisible furies were 
pursuing him, now that the people had left him. He left his 
barge at Putney, and mounting his mule, though with 
difficulty, proceeded slowly with downcast looks. Short- 
ly after, upon lifting his eyes, he saw a horseman riding 
rapidly down the hill towards them. " Whom do you think 
it can be? " he asked of his attendants. " My lord," replied 
one of them, " I think it is Sir Henry Norris." A flash of 
joy passed through Wolsey's heart. Was it not Norris, 
who, of all the king's officers, had shown him the most 
respect during his visit to Grafton ? Norris came up with 
them, saluted him respectfully, and said : " The king bids 
me declare that he still entertains the same kindly feelings 
towards you, and sends you this ring as a token of his con- 
fidence." Wolsey received it with a trembling hand : it was 
that which the king was in the habit of sending on impor- 
tant occasions. The cardinal immediately alighted from his 
mule, and kneeling down in the road, raised his hands to 
heaven with an indescribable expression of happiness. The 
fallen man would have pulled off his velvet under-cap, but 
unable to undo the strings, he broke them, and threw it on 
the ground. He remained on his knees bareheaded, praying 
fervently _amidst profound silence. God's forgiveness had 
never caused Wolsey so much pleasure as Henry's. 

Having finished his prayer, the cardinal put on his cap, 
and remounted his mule. " Gentle Norris," said he to the 
king's messenger, " if I were lord of a kingdom, the half of 
it would scarcely be enough to reward you for your happy 
tidings ; but I have nothing left except the clothes on my 
back." Then taking off his gold chain: "Take this," he 
said, " it contains a piece of the true cross. In my happier 
days I would not have parted with it for a thousand pounds." 
The cardinal and Norris separated : but Wolsey soon stopped, 
and the whole troop halted on the heath. The thought 
troubled him greatly that he had nothing to send to the 
king ; he called Norris back, and, looking round him, saw, 
mounted on a sorry horse, poor William Patch, who had lost 
all his gaiety since his master's misfortune. " Present this 
poor jester to the king from me," said Wolsey to Norris : 



WOLSEY'S JESTER. 485 

** liis buffooneries are a pleasure fit for a prince ; he is worth 
a thousand pounds." Patch, offended at being treated thus, 
burst into a violent passion ; his eyes flashed fire, he foamed 
at the mouth, he kicked and fought, and bit all who ap- 
proached him ;* but the inexorable Wolsey, who looked upon 
him merely as a toy, ordered six of his tallest yeomen to lay 
hold of him. They carried off the unfortunate creature, who 
long continued to utter his piercing cries. At the very 
moment when his master had had pity on him, Wolsey, like 
the servant in the parable, had no pity on his poor companion 
in misfortune. 

At last they reached Esher. What a residence compared 

with Whitehall! It was little more than four bare walls. 

The most urgent necessaries were procured from the neigh- 
bouring houses, but Wolsey could not adapt himself to this 
cruel contrast. Besides, he knew Henry VIII. ; he knew 
that he might send Norris one day with a gold ring, and the 
executioner the next with a rope. Gloomy and dejected, he 
remained seated in his lonely apartments. On a sudden he 
would rise from his seat, walk hurriedly up and down, speak 
aloud to himself, and then, falling back in his chair, he would 
weep like a child. This man, who formerly had shaken 
kingdoms, had been overthrown in the twinkling of an eye, 
and was now atoning for his perfidies in humiliation and 
terror, a striking example of God's judgment. 

* The poor fool took on, and fired so in such a rage. Cavendish, p. 257. 



486 LORD CHANCELLOR MORE. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Thomas More elected Chancellor A lay Government one of the great 
Facts of the Reformation Wolsey accused of subordinating England 
to the Pope He implores the King's Clemency His Condemnation 
Cromwell at Esher His Character He sets out for London Sir 
Christopher Hales recommends him to the King Cromwell's Interview 
with Henry in the Park A new Theory Cromwell elected Member 
of Parliament Opened by Sir Thomas More Attack on ecclesiastical 
Abuses Reforms pronounced by the Convocation Three Bills Ro- 
chester attacks them Resistance of the House of Commons Struggles 
Henry sanctions the three Bills Alarm of the Clergy and Distur- 
bances. 

DURING all this time everybody was in commotion at 
court. Norfolk and Suffolk, at the head of the council, had 
informed the Star Chamber of the cardinal's disgrace. Henry 
knew not how to supply his place. Some suggested the 
archbishop of Canterbury ; the king would not hear of him. 
" Wolsey," says a French writer, " had disgusted the king 
and all England with those subjects of two masters who, 
almost always, sold one to the other. They preferred a lay 
minister." " I verily believe the priests will never more ob- 
tain it," wrote Du Bellay. The name of Sir Thomas More 
was pronounced. He was a layman, and that quality, 
which a few years before would, perhaps, have excluded 
him, was now a recommendation. A breath of Protest- 
antism wafted to the summit of honours one of its greatest 
enemies. Henry thought that More, placed between the 
pope and his sovereign, would decide in favour of the inter- 
ests of the throne, and of the independence of England. His 
choice was made. 

More knew that the cardinal had been thrown aside be- 
cause he was not a sufficiently docile instrument in the 
matter of the divorce. The work required of him was con- 
trary to his convictions 5 but the honour conferred on him 
was almost unprecedented ; very seldom indeed had the 



IS INSTALLED BY NORFOLK. 487 

seals been intrusted to a mere knight.* He followed the 
path of ambition and not of duty ; he showed, however, in 
after-days that his ambition was of no common sort. It is 
even probable that, foreseeing the dangers which threat- 
ened to destroy the papal power in England, More wished 
to make an effort to save it. Norfolk installed the new 
chancellor in the Star Chamber. " His majesty," said the 
duke, "has not cast his eyes upon the nobility of the 
blood, but on the worth of the person. He desires to show 
by this choice that there are among the laity and gentle- 
men of England, men worthy to fill the highest offices in 
the kingdom, to which, until this hour, bishops and noble- 
men alone think they have a right." -j- The Reformation, 
which restored religion to the general body' of the church, 
took away at the same time political power from the clergy. 
The priests had deprived the people of Christian activity, 
and the governments of power ; the gospel restored to both 
what the priests had usurped. This result could not but be 
favourable to the interests of religion ; the less cause kings 
and their subjects have to fear the intrusion of clerical power 
into the affairs of the world, the more will they yield them- 
selves to the vivifying influence of faith. 

More lost no time ; never had lord-chancellor displayed 
such activity. He rapidly cleared off^the cases which were 
in arrear, and having been installed on the 26th of October 
he called on Wolsey's cause on the 28th or 29th. "The 
crown of England," said the attorney-general, " has never 
acknowledged any superior but God. \ Now, the said Tho- 
mas Wolsey, legate a latere, has obtained from the pope 
certain bulls, by virtue of which* he has exercised since the 
28th of August 1523 an authority derogatory to his ma- 

It has been often asserted that Sir Thomas More was the first lay* 
man to whom the office of chancellor was intrusted ; but there were no 
less than six between A. D. 1342 and 1410 ; viz. Sir Robert Boucher, 
knight ; Sir Robert de Thorp, knight ; Sir R. de la Scrope, knight ; Sir 
M. de la Pole ; R, Neville, Earl of Salisbury ; and Sir T. Beaufort, knight. 

t More's Life, p. 172. 

The crown of England, free at all times, has been in no earthly sub- 
lection, but immediately subject to God in all things. Herbert, p. 251. 
!See also Articles of Impeachment, 1. 



488 WOLSEY'S REAL CRIME. 

jesty's power, and to the rights of his courts of justice. The 
crown of England cannot be put under the pope ; and we 
therefore accuse the said legate of having incurred the pen- 
alties of prcemunirc." 

There can be no doubt that Henry had other reasons foi 
Wolsey's disgrace than those pointed out by the attorney- 
general; but England had convictions of a higher nature 
than her sovereign'? VYolaey was regarded as the pope's, 
accomplice, and this was the cause of the great severity 
of the public officer and of the people. The cardinal is gen- 
erally excused by alleging that both king and parliament haO 
ratified the unconstitutional authority with which Rome hao 
invested him; but had not the powers conferred on him 
by the pope produced unjustifiable results in a consti 
tutional monar, hy ? Wolsey, as papal legate, had gov- 
erned England without a parliament ; and, as if the nation 
had gone back to the reign of John, he had substituted de 
facto, if not in iheory, the monstrous syelem of the famous 
bull Unam Sa.nctam* for the institution of Magna, Ghana. 
The king, and even the lords and commons, had connived in 
vain at these illegalities ; the rights of the constitution of 
England remained not the less inviolable, and the best of the 
people had protested against their infringement. And hence 
it was that Wolsey, conscious of his crime, " put himself 
wholly to the mercy and grace of the king," {- and his coun- 
sel declared his ignorance of the statutes he was said to 
have infringed. "We cannot here allege, as some have done, 
the prostration of Wolsey's moral powers ; he could, even 
after his fall, reply with energy to Henry VIII. When, foi 
instance, the king sent to demand for the crown his palace of 
Whitehall, which belonged to the see of York, the cardinal 
answered : " Show his majesty from me that I must desire 
him to call to his most gracious remembrance that there is 
both a heaven and a hell;" and when other charges besides 
those of complicity with the papal aggression were brought 
against him, he defended himself courageously, as will be 

* Since the 13th of Nov. 1302. Raynold ad ann. Uterque ergo gla- 
dius est in potestate ecclesiac, spiritualis scilicet et materialis. 
t Cavendish, p. 276. 



HIS CONDEMNATION. 489 

afterwards seen. If, therefore, the cardinal did not attempt 
to justify himself for infringing the rights of the crown, it 
was because his conscience bade him be silent. He had 
committed one of the gravest faults of which a statesman 
can be guilty. Those who have sought to excuse him have 
not sufficiently borne in mind that, since the Great Charter, 
opposition to Romish aggression has always characterized 
the constitution and government of England. Wolsey per- 
fectly recollected this ; and this explanation is more honour- 
able to him than that which ascribes his silence to weakness 
or to cunning. 

The cardinal was pronounced guilty, and the court passed 
judgment, that by the statute of prcemunire his property 
was forfeited, and that he might be taken before the king 
in council. England, by sacrificing a churchman who had 
placed himself above kings, gave a memorable example of 
her inflexible opposition to the encroachments of the papacy. 
Wolsey was confounded, and his troubled imagination con- 
jured up nothing but perils on every side. 

While More was lending himself to the condemnation of 
his predecessor, whose friend he had been, another layman 
of still humbler origin was preparing to defend the cardinal, 
and by that very act to become the appointed instrument 
to throw down the convents in England, and to shatter the 
seculai bonds which united this country to the Roman 
pontiff. 

On the 1st of November, two days after Wolsey's condem- 
nation, one of his officers, with a prayer-book in his hand, 
was leaning against the window in the great hall, apparently 
absorbed in his devotions. " Good-morrow," said Caven- 
dish as he passed him, on his way to the cardinal for his 
usual morning duties. The person thus addressed raised 
his head, and the gentleman-usher, seeing that his eyes 
were filled with tears, asked him : " Master Cromwell, is my 
lord in any danger?" "I think not," replied Cromwell, 
" but it is hard to lose in a moment the labour of a life." 
In his master's fall-Cromwell foreboded his own. Cavendish 
endeavoured to console him. " God willing, this is my re- 
solution," replied Wolsey's ambitious solicitor ; " I intend 

x2 



490 CROMWELL'S RESOLUTION. 

this afternoon, as soon as my lord has dined, to ride to Lon- 
don, and so go to court, where I will either make or mar be- 
fore I come back again."* At this moment Cavendish was 
summoned, and he entered the cardinal's chamber. 

Cromwell, devoured by ambition, had clung to Wolsey's 
robe in order to attain power ; but Wolsey had fallen, and 
the- solicitor, dragged along with him, strove to reach by 
other means the object of his desires, Cromwell was one 
of those earnest and vigorous men whom God prepares 
for critical times. Blessed with a solid judgment and intre- 
pid firmness, he possessed a quality rare in every age, and 
particularly under Henry VIII., fidelity in misfortune. The 
ability by which he was distinguished, was not at all times 
without reproach : success seems to have been his first 
thought. 

After dinner Cromwell followed Wolsey into his private 
room : " My lord, permit me to go to London, I will en- 
deavour to save you." A gleam passed over the cardinal's 
saddened features. " Leave the room," he said to his at- 
tendants. He then had a long private conversation with 
Cromwell,-}- at the end of which the latter mounted his horse 
and set out for the capital, riding to the assault of power 
with the same activity as he had marched to the attack 
of Rome. He did not hide from himself that it would be 
difficult to procure access to the king ; for certain eccle- 
siastics, jealous of Wolsey, had spoken against his solicitor 
at the time of the secularization of the convents, and Henry 
could not endure him. But Cromwell knew that fortune 
favours the bold, and, carried away by his ambitious dreams, 
he galloped on, saying to himself: " One foot in the stirrup, 
and my fortune is made ! " 

Sir Christopher Hales, a zealous Roman-catholic, enter- 
tained a sincere friendship for him ; and to this friend 
Cromwell applied. Hales proceeded immediately to the 
palace (2d November) where he found a numerous com- 
pany talking about the cardinal's ruin. " There was one 
of his officers,'' said Hales, " who would serve your majesty 

" Cavendish, p. 280. 

t Long communication with my lord in secret. Ibid. p. 270. 



CROMWELL'S INTERVIEW WITH HENRY. 491 

well." "Who is he?" asked Henry. " Cromwell." " Do 
not speak to me of that man, I hate him," replied the king 
angrily ; * and upon that all the courtiers chimed in with his 
majesty's opinion. This opening was not very encouraging; 
but Lord Russell, earl of Bedford, advancing to the midst of 
the group around the king, said boldly : f " Permit me, Sir, 
to defend a man to whom I am indebted for my life. When 
you sent me privately into Italy, your majesty's enemies, 
having discovered me at Bologna, would have put me to 
death, had not Thomas Cromwell saved me. Sir, since you 
have now to do with the pope, there is no man (I think) in 
all England who will be fitter for your purpose." " Indeed!" 
said the king; and after a little reflection, he said to Hales: 
" Very well then, let your client meet me in Whitehall gar- 
dens." The courtiers and the priests withdrew in great dis- 
comfiture. 

The interview took place the same day at the appointed 
spot. " Sir," said Cromwell to his majesty, " the pope re- 
fuses your divorce But why do you ask his consent? 

Every Englishman is master in his own house, and why 
should not you be so in England ? Ought a foreign pre- 
late to share your power with you ? It is true, the bishops 
make oath to your majesty, but they make another to the 
pope immediately after, which absolves them from the for- 
mer. Sir, you are but half a king, and we are but half 
your subjects. J This kingdom is a two-headed monster. 
Will you bear with such an anomaly any longer? What! 
are you not living in an age when Frederick the Wise and 
other German princes have thrown off the yoke of Rome ? 
Do likewise; become once more a king; govern your king- 
dom in concert with your lords and commons. Hencefor- 
ward let Englishmen alone have any thing to say in England ; 
lef not your subjects' money be cast any more into the 
yawning gulf of the Tiber; instead of imposing new taxes 
on the nation, convert to the general good those treasures 
which have hitherto only served to fatten proud priests and 

* The kin/? began to detest the mention of him. Foxe, v. p. 366. 

t In a vehement boldness. Ibid. p. 367. 

Ibid. See also Apol. Regin. Poli ad Car. i. p. 120, 121. 



492 CROMWELL'S ADVICE PLEASES HENRY. 

lazy friars. Now is the moment for action. Rely upon 
your parliament ; proclaim yourself the head of the church 
in England. Then shall you see an increase of glory to 
your name, and of prosperity to your people." 

Never before had such language been addressed to a king 
of England. It was not only on account of the divorce that 
it was necessary to break with Rome ; it was, in Cromwell's 
view, on account of the independence, glory, and prosperity 
of the monarchy. These considerations appeared more im- 
portant to Henry than those which had hitherto been laid 
before him ; none of the kings of England had been so well 
placed as he was to understand them. When a Tudor had 
succeeded to the Saxon, Norman, and Plantagenet kings, a 
man of the free race of the Celts had taken on the throne of 
England the place of princes submissive to the Roman pon- 
tiffs. The ancient British church, independent of the papacy, 
was about to rise again with this new dynasty, and the Cel- 
tic race, after eleven centuries of humiliation, to recover its 
ancient heritage. Undoubtedly, Henry had no recollections 
of this kind ; but he worked in conformity with the peculiar* 
character of his race, without being aware of the instinct 
which compelled him to act. He felt that a sovereign who 
submits to the pope, becomes, like King John, his vassal ; 
and now, after having been the second in his realm, he de- 
sired to be the first. 

The king reflected on what Cromwell had said ; aston- 
ished and surprised, he sought to understand the new posi- 
tion which his bold adviser had made for him. " Your pro- 
posal pleases me much," he said ; "but can you prove what 
you assert?" " Certainly," replied this able politician;"! 
have with me a copy of the oath the bishops make to the 
Roman pontiff." With these words he drew a paper from 
his pocket, and placed the oath before the king's eye?. 
Henry, jealous of his authority even to despotism, was filled 
with indignation, and felt the necessity of bringing down 
that foreign authority which dared dispute the power with 
him, even in his own kingdom. He drew off his ring and 
gave it to Cromwell, declaring that he took him into his 
service, and soon after made him a member of his privy 



MEETING OP PARLIAMENT. 493 

council. England, we may say, was now virtually emanci- 
pated from the papacy. 

Cromwell had laid the first foundations of his greatness. 
He had remarked the path his master had followed, and 
which had led to his ruin, complicity with the pope ; and he 
hoped to succeed by following the contrary course, namely, 
by opposing the papacy. He had the king's support, but he 
wanted more. Possessing a clear and easy style of elo- 
quence, he saw what influence a seat in the great "council 
of the nation would give him. It was somewhat late, for 
the session began on the next day (3d November), but to 
Cromwell nothing was impossible. The son of his friend, 
Sir Thomas Rush, had been returned to parliament; but the 
young member resigned his seat, and Cromwell was elected 
in his place. 

Parliament had not met for seven years, the kingdom hav- 
ing been governed by a prince of the Roman church. The 
reformation of the church, whose regenerating influence 
began to be felt already, was about to restore to the na- 
tion those ancient liberties of which a cardinal had robbed it; 
and Henry being on the point of taking very important reso- 
lutions, felt the necessity of drawing nearer to his people. 
Everything betokened that a good feeling would prevail 
between the parliament and the crown, and that " the priests 
would have a terrible fright."* 

While Henry was preparing to attack the Roman church 
in the papal supremacy, the commons were getting ready to 
war against the numerous abuses with which it had covered 
England. " Some even thought." says Tyndale, " that this 
assembly would reform the church, and that the golden age 
would come again."-}- But it w^s not from acts of parliament 
that the Reformation was destined to proceed, but solely from 
the word of God. And yet the commons, without touching 
upon doctrine, were going to do their duty manfully in things 
within their province, and the parliament of 1529 may be 
regarded (Lord Herbert of Cherbury observes) as the first 

* Du Bellay to Montmorency. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 378, 380. 
t Works, L p. 481. 



494 THREE BILLS OF REFORM. 

Protestant parliament of England.* "The bishops require 
excessive fines for the probates of wills," said Tyndale's old 
friend, Sir Henry Guilford. " As testamentary executor to 
Sir William Compton I had to pay a thousand marks ster- 
ling." " The spiritual men," said another member, "would 
rather see the poor orphans die of hunger than give them the 
lean cow, the only thing their father left them."f " Priests," 
said another, "have farms, tanneries, and warehouses, all 
over the country. In short, the clerks take everything from 
their flocks, and not only give them nothing, but even deny 
them the word of God." 

The clergy were in utter consternation. The power of the 
nation seemed to awaken in this parliament for the sole 
purpose of attacking the power of the priest. It was im- 
portant to ward off these blows. The convocation of the 
province of Canterbury, assembling at "Westminster on the 
5th of November, thought it their duty, in self-defence, to 
reform the most crying abuses. It was therefore decreed, on 
the 12th of November, that the priests should no longer keep 
shops or taverns, play at dice or other forbidden games, pass 
the night in suspected places, be present at disreputable 
shows,* go about with sporting dogs, or with hawks, falcons, 
or other birds of prey, on their fist ; or, finally, hold sus- 
picious intercourse with women.|| Penalties were denounced 
against these various disorders ; they were doubled in case 
of adultery ; and still further increased in the case of more 
abominable impurities.^ Such were the laws rendered ne- 
cessary by the manners of the clergy. 

These measures did not satisfy the commons. Three bills 
were introduced having reference to the fees on the probate 

* It was the first step, a great and bold sally towards thai reforma- 
tion. Herbert, p. 320. 

f- Rather than give to them the silly cow, if he had but only one 
Foxe, iv. p. 611. 

J Quod non exerceant tabernas, nee ludant taxillis vel aliis ludis pro- 
hibitis ; quod non pernoctent in locis suspectis ; quod non intersint in- 
honestis spectaculis, &c. Convocatio przelatorum. Wilkins, Concilia 
iii. p. 717. 

Canes venaticos loris ducere ac accipitres manibus. Ibid. p. 723. 

H Mulierum colloquia snspecta nullatenus habeant. Ibid. p. 722. 

^f Et in cfeteris carnis spurcitiis pcena crescat. Ibid. p. 721. 



THE KING'S CONSENT. 495 

of wills, mortuaries, pluralities, non-residence, and the exer- 
cise of secular professions. "-The destruction of the church 
is aimed at," exclaimed Bishop Fisher, when these bills were 
carried to the lords, " and if the church falls, the glory of 
the kingdom will perish. Lutheranism is making great pro- 
gress amongst us, and the savage cry that has already 
echoed in Bohemia, Down with the church, is now uttered by 

the commons How does that come about ? Solely from 

want of faith. My lords, save your country! save the 
church!" Sir Thomas Audley, the speaker, with a deputa- 
tion of thirty members, immediately went to Whitehall. 
" Sir," they said to the king, " we are accused of being with- 
out faith, and of being almost as bad as the Turks. We de- 
mand an apology for such offensive language." Fisher pre- 
tended that he only meant to speak of the Bohemians; and 
the commons, by no means satisfied, zealously went on with 
their reforms. 

These the king was resolved to concede ; but he deter- 
mined to take advantage of them to present a bill mak- 
ing over to him all the money borrowed of his subjects. 
John Petit, one of the members for the city, boldly op- 
posed this demand. " I do not know other persons' affairs," 
he said, "and I cannot give what does not belong to 
me. But as regards myself personally, I give without re- 
serve all that I have lent the king." The royal bill passed, 
and the satisfied Henry gave his consent to the bills of the 
commons. Every dispensation coming from Rome, which 
might be contrary to the statutes, was strictly forbidden. 
' The bishops exclaimed that the commons were becoming 
schismatical ; disturbances were excited by certain priests ; 
but the clerical agitators were punished, and the people, 
when they heard of it, were delighted beyond measure. 



496 JOY OF THE BELIEVERS t ALARM OF THE CLERGY. 



CHAPTER XV. 

The last Hour More's Fanaticism Debates in Convocation Royal 
Proclamation The Bishop of Norwich Sentences condemned La- 
timer's Opposition The New Testament Burnt The Persecution be- 
gins Hitton Bayfield Tonstall and Packington Bayfield arrested 
The Rector Patmore Lollards' Tower Tyndale and Patmore a 
Musician Freese the Painter Placards and Martyrdom of Bennet 
Thomas More and John Petit Bilney. 

THE moment when Henry aimed his first blows at Rome 
was also that in which he began to shed the blood of the 
disciples of the gospel. Although ready to throw off the 
authority of the pope, he would not recognise the authority 
of Christ : obedience to the Scriptures is, however, the very 
soul of the Reformation. 

The king's contest with Rome had filled the friends of 
Scripture with hope. The artisans and tradesmen, parti- 
cularly those who lived near the sea, were almost wholly 
won over to the gospel. " The king is one of us," they used 
to boast ; " he wishes his subjects to read the New Testa- 
ment. Our faith, which is the true one, will circulate through 
the kingdom, and by Michaelmas next those who believe as 
we do will be more numerous than those of a contrary opin- 
ion. We are ready, if needs be, to die in the struggle."* 
This was indeed to be the fate of many. 
. Language such as this aroused the clergy: " The last hour 
has come," said Stokesley, who had been raised to the see of 
London after Tonstall' s translation to Durham ; " if we 
would not have Luther's heresy pervade the whole of Eng- 
land, we must hasten to throw it in the sea." Henry was 
/ully disposed to do so ; but as he was not on very good 
terms with the clergy, a man was wanted to serve as media- 
tor between him and the bishops. He was soon found. 

* The bishop of Norwich to Primate Warham, 14th May 1530. Cotton 
MSS. Cleopatra, E. v. folio 360 ; Bible Annals, i. p. 256. 



T1IE BISHOPS* DEMAND. 497 

Sir Thomas More's noble understanding was then passing 
from ascetic practices to fanaticism, and the humanist turn- 
ing into an inquisitor. In his opinion, the burning of here- 
tics was just and necessary.* He has even been reproached 
with binding evangelical Christians to a tree in his garden, 
which he called " the tree of truth," and of having flogged 
them with his own hand.f More has declared that he never 
gave " stripe nor stroke, nor so much as a fillip on the fore- 
head," to any of his religious adversaries ; \ and we willingly 
credit his denial. All must be pleased to think that if the 
author of the Utopia was a severe judge, the hand which 
held one of the most famous pens of the sixteenth century 
never discharged the duties of an executioner. 

The bishops led the attack. " We must clear the Lord's 
field of the thorns which choke it," said the archbishop of Can- 
terbury to Convocation on the 29th of November 1529 ; 
immediately after which the bishop of Bath read to his col- 
leagues the list of books that he desired to have condemned. 
There were a number of works by TynMale, Luther, Me- 
lancthon, Zwingle, (Ecolampadius, Pomeranus, Brentius, 
Bucer, Jonas, Francis Lambert, Fryth, and Fish. The 
Bible in particular was set down. " It is impossible to 
translate the Scripture into English," said one of the pre- 
lates, [j u It is not lawful for the laity to read it in their 
mother tongue," said another. " If you tolerate the Bible," 
added a third, " you will make us all heretics." " By circu- 
lating the Scriptures," exclaimed several, " you will raise up 
the nation against the king." Sir T. More laid the bishops' 
petition before the king, and some time after, Henry gave 
orders by proclamation that " no one should preach, or write 
any book, or keep any school without his bishop's license ; 
that no one should keep any heretical book in his house ; 

* More's Works ; A Dialogue concerning Heresies, p. 274. 

f- Strype's Mem. vol. i. p. 315 ; Foxe, iv. p. 698. 

J Apology, ch. xxxvi. p. 901, 902. 

Sec the catalogue in Wilkins' Concilia, p. 713 to 7-0. Wilkins is of 
opinion (p. 71" note) that this document belongs to theyrar 1529. There 
are, howv.'tr, some portions of these slaluta which have evident reference 
to the year foi lowing. 

|| Tyndale's Works, voL i. p. 1. 
VOL. T. 22 



498 LATIMER SEEKS CHRIST'S VOICE. 

that the bishops should detain the offenders in prison at their 
discretion, and then proceed to the execution of the guilty ; 
and, finally, that the chancellor, the justices of the peace, 
and other magistrates, should aid and assist the bishops."* 
Such was the cruel proclamation of Henry VIII, " the father 
of the English Reformation. 

The clergy were not yet satisfied. The blind and octo- 
genarian bishop of Norwich, being more ardent than the 
youngest of his priests, recommenced his complaints. " My 
diocese is accumbered with such as read the Bible," said he 
to the archbishop of Canterbury, " and there is not a clerk 
from Cambridge but savoureth of the frying-pan. If this 
continues any time, they will undo us all. We must have 
greater authority to punish them than we have." 

Consequently, on the 24th of May 1530, More, Warham, 
Tonstall, and Gardiner having been admitted into St Ed- 
ward's chamber at Westminster, to make a report to the 
king concerning heresy, they proposed forbiding, in the most 
positive manner, the New Testament and certain other books 
in which the following doctrines were taught : " That Christ 
has shed his blood for our iniquities, as a sacrifice to the 
Father. Faith only doth justify us. Faith without good 
works is no little or weak faith, it is no faith. Labouring in 
good works to come to heaven, thou dost shame Christ's 
blood."f 

Whilst nearly every one in the audience-chamber supported 
the prayer of tfce petition, there were three or four doctors who 
kept silence. At last one of them, it was Latimer, opposed 
the proposition. Bilney's friend was more decided than ever 
to listen to no other voice than God's. " Christ's sheep hear 
no man's voice but Christ's," he answered Dr Redman, who 
had called upon him to submit to the church ; " trouble me 
no more from the talking with the Lord my God."| The 
church, in Latimer's opinion, presumed to set up its own voice 
in the place of Christ's, and the Reformation did the con- 
trary ; this was his abridgment of the controversy. Being 

Foxe, iv. p. 677, 678. 

f Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. 728-731. 

Latimer s Remain^ p. 297. 



CLERICAL TEACHING UPHELD. 499 

called upon to preach during Christmas tide, he had cen- 
sured his hearers because they celebrated that festival by 
playing at cards, like mere worldlings, and then proceeded to 
lay before their eyes Christ's cards, that is to say, his laws.* 
Being placed on the Cambridge commission to examine into 
the question of the king's marriage, he had conciliated the 
esteem of Henry's deputy, Doctor Butts, the court physician 
who had presented him to his master, by whose orders he 
preached at Windsor. 

Henry felt disposed at first to yield something to Latimer. 
" Many of my subjects," said he to the prelates assembled in 
St Edward's hall, " think that it is my duty to cause the Scrip- 
tures to be translated and given to the people." The discus- 
sion immediately began between the two parties ;f and 
Latimer concluded by asking "that the Bible should be 
permitted to circulate freely in English." f "But the most 
part overcame the better," he tells us." Henry declared 
that the teaching of the priests was sufficient for the people, 
and was content to add, " that he would give the Bible to 
his subjects when they renounced the arrogant pretension of 
interpreting it according to their own fancies." " Shun these 
hooks," cried the priests from the pulpit, " detest them, keep 
them not in your hands, deliver them up to your superiors." || 
Or if you do not, your prince, who has received from God the 
sword of justice, will use it to punish you." Rome had every 
reason to be satisfied with Henry VIII. Tonstall, who still 
kept under lock and key the Testaments purchased at Ant- 
werp through Packington's assistance, ha'ci them carried to 
St Paul's churchyard, where they were publicly burnt. The 
spectators retired shaking the head, and saying: "The 
teaching of the priests and of Scriptures must be in contra- 
diction to each other, since the prtests destroy them." Lati- 
mer did more : " You have promised us the word of God," 
he wrote courageously to the king; "perform your promise 
now rather than to-morrow ! The day is at hand when you 
shall give an account of your office, and of the blood that 

* Sermons, p. 8. t Wilkins, Concilia, iii. p. 736. 

t Latimer's Remains, p. 305. Ibid. 

y Wilkins, Concilip, iii. p. 736. 



500 BAYFIELD IMPORTS THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

hath been shed with your sword."* Latimer well knew thai 
by such language he hazarded his life; but that he was 
ready to sacrifice, as he tells us himself.-}- 

Persecution soon came. Just as the sun appeared to be 
rising on the Reformation, the storm burst forth. " There 
was not a stone the bishops left unrcmoved," says the 
chronicler, " any corner unsearched, for the diligent execu- 
tion of the king's proclamation whereupon ensued a grie- 
vous persecution and slaughter of the faithful." J 

Thomas Hitton, a poor and pious minister of Kent, used 
to go frequently to Antwerp to purchase New Testaments. 
As he was returning from one of these expeditions, in 1529, 
the bishop of Rochester caused him to be arrested at Graves- 
end, and put to the cruelest tortures, to make him deny his 
faith. But the martyr repeated with holy enthusiasm : 
" Salvation cometh by faith and not by works, and Christ 
giveth it to whomsoever he willeth." || On the iOth of Feb- 
ruary 1530, he was tied to the stake and there burnt to 
death.^ 

Scarcely were Hitton's sufferings ended for bringing the 
Scriptures into England, when a vessel laden with New 
Testaments arrived at Colchester. The indefatigable Bay- 
field, who accompanied these books, sold them in London, 
went back to the continent, and returned to England in 
November ; but this time the Scriptures fell into the hands 
of Sir Thomas More. Bayfield, undismayed, again visited 
the Low Countries, and soon reappeared, bringing with him 
the New Testament and the works of almost all the Re- 
formers. " How cometh it that there are so many New 
Testaments from abroad ? " asked Tonstall of Packington ; 
" you promised me that you would buy them all." " They 
have printed more since,"' replied the wily merchant ; " and 
it will never be better so long as they have letters and 

* Latimer's Remains, p. 308. 

f I had rather suffer extreme punishment. Ibid. p. 298. 
J Foxe, vol. iv. p. 679. 

Dieted and tormented him secretly. Tyndale's Works, vol. i. p. 485. 
|| For the constant and manifest testimony of Jesus Christ and of big 
free grace and salvation. Foxe, vol. iv. p. 619. 
*[ The bishops murdered him most cruelly. Tyndale, vol. i. p. 485. 



BAYFIELD IK PRISON WITH PATMORE. 501 

stamps [type and dies.] My lord, you had better buy the 
stamps too, and so you shall be sure."* 

Instead of the stamps, the priests sought after Bayfield. 
The bishop of London could not endure this godly man. 
Having one day asked Bainham (who afterwards suffered 
martyrdom) whether he knew a single individual who, since 
the days of the apostles, had lived according to the true 
faith in Jesus Christ, the latter answered: u Yes, I know 
Bayfield." -j- Being tracked from place to place, he fled 
from the house of his pious hostess, and hid himself at his 
binder's, where he was discovered, and thrown into the 
Lollard's tower. J 

As he entered the prison Bayfield noticed a priest named 
Patmore, pale, weakened by suffering, and ready to sink 
under the ill treatment of his jailers. Patmore, won over 
by Bayfield's piety, soon opened his heart to him. When 
rector of Haddam, he had found the truth in Wickliffe's 
writings. " They have burnt his bones," he said, " but 
from his ashes shall burst forth a well-spring of life." De- 
lighting in good works, he used to fill his granaries with 
wheat, and when the markets were high, he would send his 
corn to them in such abundance as to bring down the prices. || 
" It is contrary to the law of God to burn heretics," he said ; 
and growing bolder, he added : " I care no more for the 
pope's curse than for a bundle of hay." ^[ 

His curate, Simon Smith, unwilling to imitate the disor- 
derly lives oT the priests, and finding Joan Bennore, the 
rector's servant, to be a discreet and pious person, desired to 
marry her. " God," said Patmore, " has declared marriage 
lawful for all men ; and accordingly it is permitted to the 
priests in foreign parts." ** The rector alluded to Wittem- 
berg, where he had visited Luther. After his marriage 
Smith and his wife quitted England for a season, a'nd Pat- 
more accompanied them as far as London. 

Foxe, vol. ir. p. 670. 

T Ibid. p. 699. J Ibid. p. 681. 

Ibid. vol. v. p. 34. || Ibid. vol. ir. p. GS1. 

H Ibid. 

* Yet it was in other countries beyond sea Ibid. 



502 BAYF1ELD IN THE COAL-CELLAK. 

The news of this marriage of a priest a fact without pre- 
cedent in England made Stokesley throw Patmore into the 
Lollards' tower, and although he was ill, neither fire, light, 
nor any other comfort was granted him. The bishop and 
his vicar-general visited him alone in his prison, and en- 
deavoured by their threats, to make him deny his faith. 

It was during these circumstances that Bayfield was 
thrust into the tower. By his Christian words he revived 
Patmore's languishing faith,* and the latter complained to 
the king that the bishop of London prevented his feeding 
the flock which God had committed to his charge. Stokes- 
ley, comprehending, whence Patmore derived his new cour- 
rage,f removed Bayfield from the Lollards' tower, and shut 
him up in the coal-house, where he was fastened upright to the 
wall by the neck, middle, and legs.:): The unfortunate gos- 
peller of Bury passed his time in continual darkness, never 
lying down, never seated, but nailed as it were to the wall, 
and never hearing the sound of human voice. We shall 
see him hereafter issuing from this horrible prison to die 
on the scaffold. 

Patmore was not the only one in his family who suffered 
persecution ; he had in London a brother named Thomas, a 
friend of John Tyndale, the younger brother of the celebrated 
reformer. Thomas had said that the truth of Scripture was 
at last reappearing in the world, after being hidden for 
many ages ; and John Tyndale had sent five marks to his 
brother William, and received letters from him*. Moreover, 
the two friends (who were both tradesmen) had distributed a 
great number of Testaments and other works. But their 
faith was not deeply rooted, and it was more out of sympathy 
for their brothers that they had believed ; accordingly, Stokes- 
ley, so completely entangled them, that they confessed th^ir 
" crime." More, delighted at the opportunity which offered 
to cover the name of Tyndale with shame, was not satisfied 
with condemning the two friends to pay a fine of 100 
<*4ch ; he invented a new disgrace. He sewed on their dress 

* Confirmed by him in the doctrine. Foxe, vol. iv. p. 6K. 
+ Confirmed him iu the doctrine. Ibid. p. C8. 
$ Ibid. Ibid. v. p. 34. 



EDWARD FREESE GOES MAD. 503 

some sheets of the New Testament which they had circu- 
lated, placed the two penitents on horseback with their faces 
towards the tail, and thus paraded them- through the streets 
of London, exposed to the jeers and laughter of the popu- 
lace. In this, More succeeded better than in his refutation 
of the reformer's writings. 

From that time the persecution became more violent. 
Husbandmen, ajtists, tradespeople, and even noblemen, felt 
the cruel fangs of the clergy and of Sir Thomas More. They 
sent to jail a pious musician who used to wander from town 
to town, singing to his harp a hymn in commendation of 
Martin Luther and of the Reformation.* A painter, named 
Edward Freese, a young man of ready wit, having been en- 
gaged to paint some hangings in a house, wrote on the bor- 
ders certain sentences of the Scripture. For this he was 
seized and taken to the bishop of London's palace at Fulham, 
and there imprisoned, where his chief nourishment was bread 
made out of sawdust.-}- His poor wife, who was pregnant, 
went down to Fulham to see her husband ; but the bishop's 
porter had orders to admit no one, and the brute gave her so 
violent a kick, as to kill her unborn infant, and cause the 
mother's death not long after. The unhappy Freese was re- 
moved to the Lollards' tower, where he was put into chains, his 
hands only being left free. With these he took a piece of coal, 
and wrote some pious sentences on the wall ; upon this he was 
manacled, but his wrists were so severely pinched, that the 
flesh grew up higher than the irons. His intellect became 
disturbed ; his hair in wild disorder soon covered his face, 
through which his eyes glared fierce and haggard. The 
want of proper food, bad treatment, his wife's death, and 
his lengthened imprisonment, entirely undermined his rea- 
son ; when brought to St Paul's, he was kept three days 
without meat ; and when he appeared before the consis- 
tory,, the poor prisoner, silent and scarce able to stand, looked 
around and gazed upon the spectators " like a wild man." 
The examination was begun, but to every question put to 

His name was Robert Lambe. Foxe, v. p. 34. 
f- Fed with fine manchet made of sawdust, or at least a great part 
thereof. Ibid. iv. p. 695. 



504 AGITATION IN EXETER. 

him, Freese made the same answer : " My Lord is a good 
man." They could get nothing from him but this affecting 
reply. Alas ! the light shone no more upon his understand- 
ing, but the love of Jesus was still in his heart. He was 
sent back to Bearsy Abbey, where he did not remain long ; 
but he never entirely recovered his reason.* Henry VIII. 
and his prieSH inflicted punishments still more cruel even 
than the stake. 

Terror began to spread far and wide. The most 'active 
evangelists had been compelled to flee to a foreign land ; 
some of the most godly were in prison ; and among those in 
high station there were many, and perhaps Latimer was one, 
who seemed willing to shelter themselves under an exagger- 
ated moderation. But just as the persecution in London had 
succeeded in silencing the most timid, other voices more 
courageous were raised in the provinces. The city of Exeter 
was at that time in great agitation ; placards had been dis- 
covered on the gates of the cathedral containing some of the 
principles "of the new doctrine." "While the mayor and his 
officers were seeking after the author of these "blasphemies," 
the bishop and all his doctors, " as hot as coals," says the 
chronicler, f were preaching in the most fiery style. On the 
following Sunday, during the sermon, two men who had been 
the busiest of all the city in searching for the author of the 
bills were struck by the appearance of a person seated near 
them. " Surely this fellow is the heretic," they said. But 
their neighbour's devotion, for he did not take his eyes off 
his book, quite put them out; they did not perceive that ho 
was reading the New Testament in Latin. 

This man, Thomas Bennet, was indeed the offender. 
Being converted at Cambridge by the preaching of Bilney, 
whose friend he was, he had gone to Torrington for fear of 
the persecution, and thence to Exeter, and after marrying to 
avoid unchastity (as he says),| he became schoolmaster. 
Quiet, humble, courteous to every body, and somewhat timid, 
Bennet had lived six years in that city without his faith being 
discovered. At last his conscience being awakened, he re- 

* Foxe, iv. p. 695. ' f Ibid. v. p. 19. 

J Ut ne scortator aut immundus essem,uxorem duxi. Ibid, p.lQ, 



THOMAS BENNET. 505 

solved to fasten by night to the cathedral gates certain evan- 
gelical placards. " Everybody will read the writing," he 
thought, and " nobody will know the writer." He did as he 
had proposed. 

Not long after the Sunday on which he had been so nearly 
discovered, the priests prepared a great pageant, and made 
ready to pronounce against the unknown heretic the great 
curse, "with book, bell, and candle." The cathedral was 
crowded, and Bennet himself was among the spectators. In 
the middle stood a great cross on which lighted tapers were 
placed, and around it were gathered all the Franciscans and 
Dominicans of Exeter. One of the priests having delivered 
a sermon on the words : There is an accursed thing in the 
midst ofthee, Israel* the bishop drew near the cross and 
pronounced the curse against the offender. He took one of 
the tapers and said : " Let the soul of the unknovn heretic, 
if he be dead already, be quenched this night in the pains of 
hell-fire, as this candle is now quenched and put out ;" and 
with that he put out the candle. Then taking off a second, 
he continued : " and let us pray to God, if he be yet alive, 
that his eyes be put cut, and that all the senses of his body 
may fail him, as now the light of this candle is gone;" ex- 
tinguishing the second candle. After this, one of the priests 
went up to the cross and struck it, when the noise it made 
in falling re-echoing along the roof so frightened the specta- 
tors that they uttered a shriek r f terror, and held up their 
hands to heaven, as if to pray that the divine curse might 
not fall on them. Bennet, a witness of this comedy, could 
not forbear smiling. "What are you laughing at?" asked 
his neighbours ; " here is the heretic, here is the heretic, hold 
him fast." This created great confusion among the crowd, 
some shouting, some clapping their hands, others running 
to and fro ; but, o\ving to the tumult, Bennet succeeded in 
making his escape. 

The excommunication did but increase his desire to at- 
tack the Romish superstitions; and accordingly, before five 
o'clock the next morning (it was in the month of October 
1530), his servant-boy fastened up again by his orders ou 
Jcehua, vii. 13. 
22* 



506 DISCUSSIONS WITH BENNET. 

the cathedra] gates some placards similar to those which had 
been torn down. It chanced that a citizen going to early 
mass saw the boy, and running up to him, caught hold of 
him and pulled down the papers ; and then dragging the boy 
with one hand, and with the placards in the other, he went 
to the mayor of the city. Bonnet's servant was recognised ; 
his master was immediately arrested, and put in the stocks, 
"with as much favour as a dog would find," says Foxe. 

Exeter seemed determined to make itself the champion 
of sacerdotalism in England. For a whole week, not 
only the bishop, but all the priests and friars of the city, 
visited Bennet night and day. But they tried in vain to 
prove to him that the Roman church was the true one. 
" God has given me grace to be of a better church," he said. 
" Do you not know that ours is built upon St Peter?" 
"The church that is built upon a man," he replied, "is the 
devil's church and not God's." His cell was continually 
thronged with visitors ; and, in default of arguments, the 
most ignorant of the friars called the prisoner a heretic, and 
spat upon him. At length they brought to him a learned 
doctor of theology, who, they supposed, would infallibly con- 
vert him. "Our ways are God's ways," said the doctor 
gravely. But he soon discovered that theologians can 
do nothing against the word of the Lord. " He only is my 
way," replied Bennet, " who saith, 1 am the way, the truth, 
and the life. In his way \vill I walk ; his truth will I em- 
brace ; his everlasting life will I seek." 

He was condemned to be burnt; and More having trans- 
mitted the order de comburendo with the utmost speed, the 
priests placed Bennet in the hands of the sheriff on the 15th 
of January 1531, by whom he was conducted to the Livery- 
dole, a field without the city, where the stake was pre- 
pared. When Bennet arrived at the place of execution, he 
briefly exhorted the people, but with such unction, that the 
sheriff's clerk, as he heard him, exclaimed : " Truly this is 
a servant of God." Two persons, however, seemed un- 
moved : they were Thomas Carew, and John Barnehouse, 
both holding the station of gentlemen. Going up to the 
martyr, they exclaimed in a threatening voice : " Say, Pre~ 



HIS MARTYRDOM. 507 

cor sanctam Mariam et omnes fanctos Dei" " I know no 
other advocate but Jesus Christ," replied Bennet. Barne- 
house was so enraged at these words, that he took a furze-bush 
upon a pike, and setting it on fire, thrust it into the mar- 
tyr's face, exclaiming: "Accursed heretic, pray to our Lady, 
or I will make you do it." " Alas !" replied Bennet patient- 
ly, "trouble me not;" and then holding up his hands, he 
prayed : " Father, forgive them !" The executioners imme- 
diately set fire to the wood, and the most fanatical of the 
spectators, both men and women, seized with an indescrib- 
able fury, tore up stakes and bushes, and whatever they 
could lay their hands on, and flung them all into the flames 
to increase their violence. Bennet, lifting up his eyes to hea- 
ven, exclaimed : " Lord, receive my spirit." Thus died, in 
the Sixteenth century, the disciples of the Reformation sacri- 
ficed by Henry VIII. 

The priests, thanks to the king's sword, began to count 
on victory; yet schoolmasters, musicians, tradesmen, and 
even ecclesiastics, were not enough for them. They wanted 
nobler victims, and these were to be looked for in London. 
More himself, accompanied by the lieutenant of the Tower, 
searched many of the suspected houses.* Few citizens were 
more esteemed in London than John Petit, the same who, in 
the house of commons, had so nobly resisted the king's de- 
mand about the loan. Petit was learned in history and in 
Latin literature : he spoke with eloquence, and for twenty 
years had worthily represented the city. Whenever any 
important affair was debated in parliament, the king feeling 
uneasy, was in the habit of inquiring, which side he took ? 
Tin's political independence, very rare in Henry's parlia- 
ments, gave umbrage to the prince and his ministers. Petit, 
the friend of Bilney, Fryth, and Tyndale, had been one of 
the first in England to taste the sweetness of God's word,f 
and had immediately manifested that beautiful characteristic 
by which the gospel faith makes itself known, namely, charity. 
He abounded in almsgiving, supported a great number of 
poor preachers of the gospel in his own country and beyond 
the seas; and whenever he noted down these generous aids in 
* Strype, i. j>. 812. f Hid. 



508 JOHN PETIT, M.P. FOR LONDON. 

his books, he wrote merely the words : " Lent, unto Christ."* 
He moreover forbade his testamentary executors to call in 
these debts. 

Petit was tranquilly enjoying the sweets of domestic life in 
his modest home in the society of his wife and two daughters, 
Blanche and Audrey, when he received an unexpected visit. 
One clay, as he was praying in his closet, a loud knock was 
heard at the street door. His wife ran to open it, but seeing 
Lord-chancellor More, she returned hurriedly to her hus- 
band, and told him that the lord-chancellor wanted him. 
More, who followed her, entered the closet, and with inquisi- 
tive eye ran over the shelves of the library, but could find 
nothing suspicious. Presently he made as if he would re- 
tire, and Petit accompanied him. The chancellor stopped at 
the door and said to him : "You assert that you have none 
of these, new books?" "You have seen my library," replied 
Petit. " I am informed, however," replied More, " that you 
not only read them, but pay for the printing." And then he 
added in a severe tone : " Follow the lieutenant." In spite 
of the tears of his wife and daughters this independent mem- 
ber of parliament was conducted to the Tower, and shut up 
in a damp dungeon, where he had nothing but straw to lie 
upon. His wife went thither each day in vain, asking with 
tears permission to see him, or at least to send him a bed ; the 
jailers refused her everything ; and it was only when Petit 
fell dangerously ill that the latter favour was granted him. 
This took place in 1580, sentence was passed in 1531 ;}- we 
shall see Petit again in his prison. He left it, indeed, but 
only to sink under the cruel treatment he had there ex- 
perienced. 

Thus were the witnesses to the truth struck down by the 
priests, by Sir Thomas More, and by Henry VIII. A new 
victim was to be the cause of many tears. A meek and 
humble man, one deal to all the friends of the gospel, and 
whom we may regard as the spiritual father of the Reforma- 
tion in England, was on the point of mounting the burning 
pile raised by his persecutors. Some time prior to Petit's 
appearance before his judges, which took place in 1531, an 
* Strype, i. p. 314 f IbM- P- 312. 



BILNEY SETS HIS FACE TOWARDS JERUSALEM. 509 

unusual noise was heard in the cell above him: it vas 
Thomas Bilney, whom they were conducting to the Tower.* 
We left him at the end of 1528 after his fall. Bilney had 
returned to Cambridge tormented by remorse ; his friends in 
vain crowded round him by night and by day ; they could 
not console him, and even the Scriptures seemed to utter no 
voice but that of condemnation. -J- Fear made him tremble 
constantly, and he could scarcely cat or drink. At length a 
heavenly and unexpected light dawned in the heart of the 
fallen disciple ; a witness whom he had vexed the Holy 
Spirit spoke once more in his heart. Bilney fell at the foot 
of the cross, shedding floods of tears, and there he found 
peace. But the more God comforted him, the greater 
seemed his crime. One only thought possessed him, that of 
giving his life for the truth. He had shrunk from before the 
burning pile; its flames must now consume him. Neither 
the weakness of his body, which his long anguish had much 
increased, nor the cruelty of his enemies, nor his natural 
timidity, nothing could stop him : he strove for the martyr's 
crown. At ten o'clock one night, when every person in 
Trinity Hall was retiring to rest, Bilney called his friends 
round him, reminded them of his fall, and added : " You 

shall see me no more Do not stay me: my decision is 

formed, and I shall carry it out. My face is set to go to 
Jerusalem.''^ Bilney repeated the words used by the Evan- 
gelist, when he describes Jesus going up to the city where he 
was to be put to death. Having shaken hands whh his 
brethren, this venerable man, the foremost of the evangelists 
of England in order of time, left Cambridge under cover of 
the night, and proceeded to Norfolk, to confirm in the faith 
those who had believed, and to invite the ignorant multitude 
to the Saviour. We shall not follow him in this last and 
sol -inn ministry; these facts and others of the same kind 
Iml./ng to a later date. Before the year 1531 closed in, 
Bilney, Bainham, Bayficld, Tewkesbury, and many others, 

Ibid. p. 313. 

f He thought that all the while the Scriptures were against 
Latinier's Sermons, p. 52. 
; Fo&c, ir. p. 642. See Luke ix. 51. 



510 WOLSEY'S TERROR AT ESHER. 

struck by Henry's sword, sealed by their blood the testi- 
mony rendered by them to the perfect grace of Christ. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



Wolsey's Terror Impeachment by the Peers Cromwell saves him 
The Cardinal's Illness Ambition returns to him His Practices in 
Yorkshire He is arrested by Northumberland His Departure Ar- 
rival of the Constable of the Tower Wolsey at Leicester Abbey 
Persecuting language He dies Three Movements: Supremacy, 
Scripture, and Faith. 

WHILE many pious Christians were languishing in the 
prisons of England, the great antagonist of the Reformation 
was disappearing from the stage of this world. We must 
return to Wolsey, who was still detained at Eshcr.* 

The cardinal, fallen from the summit of honours, was 
seized with those panic terrors usually felt after their dis- 
grace by those who have made a whole nation tremble, and 
he fancied he saw an assassin lay hid behind every door. 
u This very night," he wrote to Cromwell on one occasion, 
" I was as one that should have died. If I might, I would 
not fail to come on foot to you, rather than this my speak- 
ing with you shall be put over and delayed. If the dis- 
pleasure of my lady Anne be somewhat assuaged, as I pray 
God the same may be, then I pray you exert all possible 
means of attaining her favour."-}- 

In consequence of this, Cromwell hastened down to Esher 
two or three days after taking his seat in Parliament, and 
Wolsey, all trembling, recounted his fears to him. " Norfolk, 
Suffolk, and Lady Anne perhaps, desire my death.J Did not 

* Burnet and some more modern historians are, in my opinion, mis- 
taken when they state that Wolsey was present in Parliament at tho 
clo*e of 1.529. See State Papers, i. p. 347 to 354. 

f- State Papers, vol. i. p. 351, mutilated by fire. 

4. Timebc-.t sibi damnum et pcriculum de corpore suo per quosdam suos 
semulos. Ryuier, Foodcra, p. 1 39. 



GRIEVANCES OF THE PEERS AGAINST WOLSEY. 511 

Thomas 2l Becket, an archbishop like me, stain the altar 

with his Wood?" Cromwell reassured him, and, moved 

by the old man's fears, asked and obtained of Henry an 
order of protection. 

Wolsey's enemies most certainly desired his death ; but it 
was from the justice of the three estates, and not by the 
assassin's dagger, that they sought it. The house of peers 
authorized Sir Thomas More, the dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, 
and fourteen other lords, to impeach the cardinal-legate of 
high treason. They forgot nothing : that haughty formula, 
Ego ct rex meus, I and my king," which "VVolsey had often 
employed; his infringement of the laws of the kingdom; 
his monopolizing the church revenues; the crying injus- 
tice of which he had been guilty, as for instance, in the 
case of Sir John Stanley, who was sent to prison until ho 
gave up a lease to the son of a woman who had borne the 
cardinal two children ; many familias ruined to satisfy his 
avarice ; treaties concluded with foreign powers without the 
king's order ; his exactions, which had impoverished Eng- 
land ; and the foul diseases and infectious breath with which 
he had polluted his majesty's presence.* These were some 
of the forty-four grievances presented by the peers to the 
king, and which Henry sent down to the lower house for 
their consideration. 

It was at first thought that nobody in the commons 
would undertake Wolsey's defence, and it was generally ex- 
pected that he would be given up to the vengeance of the 
law (as the bill of impeachment prayed), or in other word?, 
to the axe of the executioner. But one man stood up, and 
prepared, though alone, to defend the cardinal: this was 
Cromwell. The members asked of each other, who the un- 
known man was; he soon made himself known. Ilia 
knowledge of facts, his familiarity with the laws, the force 
of his eloquence, and the moderation of his language, sur- 
prised the house. Wolsey's adversaries had hardly aiuud 
a blow, before the defender had already parried it. If any 
charge was brought forward to which he could not reply, he 
proposed an adjournment until the next day, departed for 
Article vi. Herbert, p. 235 



512 CROMWELL SAVES WOLSEY. 

Esher at the end of the sitting, conferred with "Wolsey, re- 
turned during the night, and next morning reappeared in the 
commons with fresh arms. Cromwell carried the house 
with him ; the impeachment failed, and Wolsey's defender 
took his station among the statesmen of England. This 
victory, one of the greatest triumphs of parliamentary elo- 
quence at that period, satisfied both the ambition and the 
gratitude of Cromwell. He was now firmly fixed in the 
king's favour, esteemed by the commons, and admired by 
the people : circumstances which furnished him with the 
means of bringing to a favourable conclusion the emancipa- 
tion of the church of England. 

The ministry, composed of Wolsey's enemies, was annoyed 
at the decision of the lower house, and appointed a commis- 
sion to examine into the matter. When the cardinal was 
informed of this he fell into new terrors. He lost all appe- 
tite and desire of sleep,* and a fever attacked him at Christ- 
mas. "The cardinal will be dead in four days," said his 
physician to Henry, " if he receives no comfort shortly from 
you and lady Anne." " I would not lose him for twenty thou- 
sand pounds," exclaimed the king. He desired to preserve 
Wolsey in case his old minister's consummate ability should 
become necessary, which was hyno means unlikely. Henry 
gave the doctor his portrait in a ring, and Anne, at the king's 
desire, added the tablet of gold that hung at her girdle. 
The delighted cardinal placed the presents on his bed, and 
as he gazed on them he felt his strength return. He was 
removed from his miserable dwelling at Esher to the royal 
palace at Richmond, arid before long he was able to go into 
the park, where every night he read his breviary. 

Ambition and hope returned with life. If the king de- 
sired to destroy the papal power in England, could not the 
proud cardinal preserve it? Might not Thomas Wolsey do 
under Henry VIII. what Thomas a Uecket had done under 
Henry II. His see of York, the ignorance of the priests, 
the superstition of the people, the discontent of the great, 
all would be of service to him ; and indeed, six years later, 

* Cum prostratione appetitus et contiuuo insomuio. Wolsey to Gar- 
<liucr ; Cavendish, Appendix, p. 474. 



WOLSEY IN YORKSHIRE. 513 

40,000 men were under arras in a moment in Yorkshire 
to defend the cause of Rome. Wolsey, strong in England 
by the support of the nation (such at least was his opinion), 
aided without by the pope and the continental powers, might 
give the law to Henry, and crush the Reformation. 

The king having permitted him to go to York, Wolsey 
prayed for an increase to his archicpiscopal revenues, which 
amounted, however, to four thousand pounds sterling.* 
Henry granted him a thousand marks, and the cardinal, 
shortly before Easter 1530, departed with a train of 160 
persons. He thought it was the beginning of his triumph. 

Wolsey took up his abode at Cawood Castle, Yorkshire, 
one of his archiepiscopal residences, and strove to win the 
affections of the people. This prelate, once " the haughtiest 
of men," says George Cavendish, the man who knew him and 
served him best, became quite a pattern of affability. He kept 
an open table, distributed bounteous alms at his gate, said 
mass in the village churches, went and dined with the neigh- 
bouring gentry, gave splendid entertainments, and wrote to 
several princes imploring their help. We are assured that 
he even requested the pope to excommunicate Henry VIII. -j- 
All being thus prepared, he thought he might make his so- 
lemn entry into York, preparatory to his enthronization, 
which was fixed for Monday the 5th of November. 

Every movement of his was known at court; every action 
was canvassed, and its importance exaggerated. " We 
thought we had brought him down," some said, " and here 
he is rising up again." Henry himself was alarmed. " The 
cardinal, by his detestable intrigues," he said, "is conspiring 
against my crown, and plotting both at home and abroad ;" 
the king even added, where and how.\ Wolsey's destruc- 
tion was resolved upon. 

The morning after All Saints day (Friday, 2d November) 
the earl of Northumberland, attended by a numerous escort, 
arrived at Cawood, where the cardinal was still residing. 

State Papers, voL i. p. 354. 
+ Hall, p. 773. 

J Cosi mi disse el Re, che contra de S. M. el machinaya nel reguo o 
fuori, ct m'a detto dove e come. Le Grand, Preuves, p. 529. 



514 IS ARRESTED BY NORTHUMBERLAND. 

He was the same Percy whose affection for Anne Bolcyu 
had been thwarted by Wolsey ; and there may have been 
design in Henry's choice. The cardinal eagerly moved for- 
ward to meet this unexpected guest, and impatient to know 
the object of his mission, took him into his bed-chamber, 
under the pretence of changing his travelling dress.* They 
both remained some time standing at a window without 
uttering a word; the earl looked confused and agitated, 
whilst Wolsey endeavoured to repress his emotion. But at 
last, with a strong effort, Northumberland laid his hand upon 
the arm of his former master, and with a low voice said : 
" My lord, I arrest you for high treason." The cardinal re- 
mained speechless, as if stunned. He was kept a prisoner 
in his room. 

It is doubtful whether Wolsey was guilty of the crime 
with which he was charged. We may believe that he enter- 
tained the idea of some day bringing about the triumph of 
the popedom in England, even should it cause Henry's ruin ; 
but perhaps this was all. But, an idea is not a conspiracy, 
although it may rapidly expand into one. 

More than three thousand persons (attracted not by ha- 
tred, like the Londoners, when Wolsey departed from White- 
hall but by enthusiasm), collected the next day before the 
castle to salute the cardinal. " God save your grace," they 
shouted on every side, and a numerous crowd escorted him 
at night ; some carried torches in their hands, and all made 
the air re-echo with their cries. The unhappy prelate was 
conducted to Sheffield Park, the residence of the earl of 
Shrewsbury. Some days after his arrival, the faithful Ca- 
vendish ran to him, exclaiming : " Good news, my lord ! 
Sir William Kingston and twenty-four of the guard are 
come to escort you to his majesty." " Kingston !" exclaimed 
the cardinal, turning pale, " Kingston ! " and then slapping 
his hand on his thigh, he heaved a deep sigh. This news had 
crushed his mind. One day a fortune-teller, whom he con- 
sulted, had told him : You shall have your end at Kingston ; 
and from that time the cardinal had carefully avoided the town 
of Kingston-on-Thames. But now he thought he under- 
* And thero you may shift your apparel. Cavendish, p. 347. 



SIR V. KINGSTON ARRIVES. 515 

stood the prophecy Kingston, constable of the Tower, 

was about to cause his death. They left Sheffield Park ; 
but fright had given Wolsey his death-blow. Several times 
he was near falling from his mule, and on the third day, 
when they reached Leicester abbey, he said as he entered : 
" Father abbot, I am come hither to leave my bones among 
you ;" and immediately took to his bed. This was on Satur- 
day the 26th of November. 

On Monday morning, tormented by gloomy forebodings, 
Wolsey asked what was the time of day. " Past eight 
o'clock," replied Cavendish. " That cannot be," said the car- 
dinal, " eight o'clock No ! for by eight o'clock you shall 

lose your master." At six on Tuesday, Kingston having 
come to inquire about his health, Wolsey said to him : " I 
shall not live long." " Be of good cheer," rejoined the gov- 
ernor of the Tower. " Alas, Master Kingston," exclaimed 
the cardinal, " if I had served God as diligently as I have 
served the king, he would not have given me over in my 
grey hairs ! " and then he added with downcast head : " This 
is my just reward." "What a judgment upon his own life ! 

On the very threshold of eternity (for he had but a few 
minutes more to live) the cardinal summoned up all his hatred 
against the Reformation, and made a last effort. The per- 
secution was too slow to please him : " Master Kingston," 
he said, " attend to my last request : tell the king that I 
conjure him in God's name to destroy this new pernicious 
sect of Lutherans." And then, with astonishing presence 
of mind in this his last hour, Wolsey described the misfor- 
tunes which the Hussites had, in his opinion, brought upon 
Bohemia; and then, coming to England, he recalled the 
times of Wickliffe and Sir John Oldcastle. He grew ani- 
mated ; his dying eyes yet shot forth fiery glances. He 
trembled lest Henry VIII., unfaithful to the pope, should 
hold out his hand to the Reformers. " Master Kingston," 
said he, in conclusion, " the king should know that if lie 
tolerates heresy, God will take away his power, and we shall 

then have mischief upon mischief barrenness, scarcity, 

and disorder, to the utter destruction of this realm." 

Wolsey was exhausted by the effort. After a momentary 



516 WOLSEY'S DEATH HIS CHARACTER. 

silence, he resumed with a dying voice : " Master ^Kingston, 
farewell ! My time draweth on fast. Forget not what I 
have said and charged you withal ; for when I am dead ye 
shall pcrad venture understand my words better." It was 
with 'difficulty he uttered these words ; his tongue hegan to 
falter, his eyes became fixed, his sight failed him ; he breathed 
his last. At the same minute the clock struck eight, and the 
attendants standing round his bed looked at each other in 
affright. It was the 29th of November 1530. 

Thus died the man once so much feared. Power had 
been his idol : to obtain it in the state, lie had sacrificed the 
liberties of England ; and to win it or to preserve it in the 
church, he had fought against the Reformation. If he en- 
couraged the nobility in the luxuries and pleasures of life, 
it was only to render them more supple and more servile; if 
lie supported learning, it was only that he might have 
a clergy fitted to keep the laity in their leading-strings. 
Ambitious, intriguing, and impure of life, he had been as 
zealous for the sacerdotal prerogative as the austere Becket; 
and by a singular contrast, a shirt of hair was found on the 
body of this voluptuous man. The aim of his life had 
been to raise the papal power higher than it had ever 
been before, at the very moment when the Reforma- 
tion was attempting to bring it down; and to take his scat 
on the pontifical throne with more than the authority of 
a Hihlebrand. Wolscy, as pope, would have been (he 
man of his age ; and in the political world he would have 
doneVor the Roman primacy what the celebrated Loyola did 
for it soon after by his fanaticism. Obliged to renounce this 
idea, worthy only of the middle ages, he had desired at least 
to save the popcdom in his own country ; but here again he 
had failed. The pilot who had stood in England at the helm 
of the Romish church was thrown overboard, and the ship, 
left to itself, was about to founder. And yet, even in death, 
he did not lose his courage. The last throbs of his heart had 
called for victims ; the last words from his failing lips, the 

last message to his master, his last testament had been 

Persecution. This testament was to be only too faitlifully 
executed. 



THERE MOTEMENTS. 517 

The epoch of the fall and death of Cardinal Wolsey, which 
13 the point at which we halt, was not only important, be- 
cause it ended the life of a man who had presided over the 
destinies of England, and had endeavoured to grasp the 
sceptre of the world; but it is of especial consequence, because 
then three movements were accomplished, from which the 
great transformation of the sixteenth century was to proceed. 
Each of these movements has its characteristic result. 

The first is represented by Cromwell. The supremacy of 
the pope in England was about to be wrested from him, as 
it was in all the reformed churches. But a step further was 
taken in England. That supremacy was transferred to the 
person of the king. Wolsey had exercised as vicar-general 
a power till then unknown. Unable to become pope at the 
Vatican, he had made himself a pope at Whitehall. Henry 
had permitted his minister to raise this hierarchical throne by 
the side of his own. But he had soon discovered that there 
ought not to be two thrones in England, or at least not two 
kings. He had dethroned Wolsey ; and resolutely seating 
himself in his place, he was about to assume at Whitehall 
that tiara which the ambitious prelate had prepared for him- 
self. Some persons, when they saw this, exclaimed, that if 
the papal supremacy were abolished, that of the word of God 
ought alone to be substituted. And, indeed, the true Refor- 
mation is not to be found in this first movement. 

The second, which was essential to the renewal of the 
church, was represented by Cranmer, and consisted particu- 
larly in re-establishing the authority of holy Scripture. Wol- 
sey did not fall alone, nor did Cranmer rise alone : each of 
these two men carried with him the systems he represented. 
The fabric of Roman traditions fell with the first ; the foun- 
dations of the holy Scriptures were laid by the second ; and 
yet, while we render all justice to the sincerity of the Cam- 
bridge doctor, we must not be blind to his weaknesses, his 
subserviency, and even a certain degree of negligence, which, 
by allowing parasitical plants to shoot up here and there, 
permitted them to spread over the living rock of God's word. 
Not in this movement, then, was found the Reformation with 
all its energy and all its purity. 



518 OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN. 

The third movement was represented by the martyrs. 
When the church takes a new life, it is fertilized by the blocd 
of its confessors ; and being continually exposed to corrup- 
tion, it has constant need to be purified by suffering.* Not 
in the palaces of Henry VIII., nor even in the councils 
where the question of throwing off the papal supremacy was 
discussed, must we look for the true children of the Refor- 
mation ; we must go to the Tower of London, to the Lollards' 
towers of St Paul's and of Lambeth, to the other prisons of 
England, to the bishops' cellars, to the fetters, the stocks, the 
rack, and the stake. The godly men who invoked the sole 
intercession of Christ Jesus, the only head of his people, Avho 
wandered up and down, deprived of everything, gagged, 
scoffed at, scourged, and tortured, and who, in the midst of 
all their tribulations, preserved their Christian patience, and 
turned, like their Master, the eyes of their faith towards 
Jerusalem : these were the disciples of the Reformation in 
England. The purest church is the church under the cross. 

The father of this church in England was not Henry VIII. 
When the king cast into prison or gave to the flames men 
like Hitton, -Bennet, Patmore, Petit, Bayfield, Bilney,and so 
many others, he was not " the father of the Reformation ol 
England," as some have so falsely asserted ; he was its exe- 
cutioner. 

The church of England was foredoomed to be, in its reno- 
vation, a church of martyrs ; and the true father of this 
church is our Father which is in heaven. 

* t Peter iv. 17. Plerumque ecclesia est coetus exiguus sustinens Ta/ 
riis et ingentes aerumnas, Melancthon, loci. 



END OP VOLUME V> 



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