PREVIOUS CHAPTER - NEXT CHAPTER - HELP - GR VIDEOS - GR YOUTUBE - TWITTER - SD1 YOUTUBE BOOK PERTAINING TO THE LAST THREE HUNDRED YEARS FROM THE LOOSING OUT OF SATAN A PREFACE TO THE READER. ACCORDING to the five sundry diversities and alterations of the church, so have I divided hitherto the order of this present church-story into five principal parts, every part containing three hundred years; so that now coming to the last three hundred years (that is, to the last times of the church, counting from the time of Wickliff), forasmuch as in the compass of the said last three hundred years are contained great troubles and perturbations of the church, with the marvellous reformation of the same through the wondrous operation of the Almighty; all which things cannot be comprehended in one book: I have therefore disposed the said latter three hundred years into divers books, beginning now with the sixth book, at the reign of king Henry VI. In which book, beside the grievous and sundry persecutions raised up by Antichrist, to be noted, herein is also to be observed, that whereas it hath of long time been received and thought of the common people, that this religion now generally used hath sprung up and risen but of late, even by the space (as many do think) of twenty or thirty years, for the avoiding of which fond and vain opinion it may now manifestly appear, not only by the Acts and Monuments heretofore passed, but also by the histories hereafter following, how this profession of Christ’s religion hath been spread abroad in England of old and ancient time, not only for the space of these two hundred late years, from the time of Wickliff, but hath continually from time to time sparkled abroad, although the flames thereof have never so perfectly burst out, as they have done within these hundred years and more; as by these histories here collected and gathered out of registers, especially of the diocese of Norwich, shall manifestly appear: wherein may be seen what men, and how many, both men and women, within the said diocese of Norwich there have been, who have defended the same cause of doctrine which now is received by us in the church. Which persons, although then they were not so strongly armed in their cause and quarrel as of late years they have been, yet were they warriors in Christ’s church, and fought to their power in the same cause. And although they gave back through tyranny, yet judge thou the best, good reader! and refer the cause thereof to God, who revealeth all things according to his determinate will and appointed time. HENRY THE SIXTH. THIS young prince, being under the age of one year, after the death of his father succeeded in his reign 504 and kingdom of England, A.D. 1422, and in the eighth year was crowned at Westminster; and in the second year after was crowned also at Paris (Henry bishop of Winchester, cardinal, being present on both occasions), and reigned thirty-eight years; and then was deposed by Edward IV., as hereafter, Christ willing, shall be declared in his time. (Ex Scala Mundi.) WILLIAM TAILOR, PRIEST. *There 4 hath been no region or country more fertile or fruitful for martyrs, than our only region of England. Whether it happeneth or cometh by the singular gift or privilege of God’s divine grace, or else through the barbarous and foolish cruelty of such as at that time ruled and governed the church, it is uncertain. Oxford at the present was, as it had been, a continual spring of christian knowledge and learning, from whence, as out of the Trojan horse, there hath come forth so many invincible witnesses of Christ and his truth, who, with singular learning, and with their blood, have not only deserved praise of such as were in their days, but also of all such as shall come after.* In the first year of this king’s reign was burned the constant witnessbearer and ‘testis’ of Christ’s doctrine, William Tailor, a priest, * 4 master of arts, being a favorer of Wickliff,* under Henry Chiehesley, archbishop of Canterbury. Of this William Tailor 505 I read, 5 that in the days of Thomas Arundel he was first apprehended, and excommunicated. Afterward, in the, days of Henry Chichesley, he presented himself to the convocation on Monday, February 12th, A.D. 1421, and craved absolution, offering to abjure. To which they consented. And thus the said William Tailor, 506 appointed to appear the next Wednesday at Lambeth before the archbishop, to take his absolution from his long excommunication during the time of Thomas Arundel, appeared accordingly; when he, laying aside his ‘armilausa’ (that is, his cloak), 507 and his cap, and stripped unto his doublet, kneeled at the feet of the archbishop. Who then standing up, and having a rod in his hand, began the psalm ‘Miserere,’ etc., his chaplains answering every second verse. After that, was said the Lord’s prayer, and the collect, ‘Deus cui proprium,’ etc., with certain other prayers. And thus was William Tailor for that time absolved, being enjoined notwithstanding to appear at the next convocation, whensoever it should be, before the said archbishop, or his successor that should follow him. The next convocation 508 met May 5th, A.D. 1421 (which was two years before his burning), at which the said William Tailor appeared again before the archbishop on Saturday, May 24th, being brought by the bishop of Worcester, being complained of to have taught at Bristol these articles following: — First , That whosoever hangeth any writing about his neck, taketh away the honor due only to God, and giveth it to the devil. Secondly , That Christ himself is not to be worshipped so far as regardeth his manhood. Thirdly , That the saints in heaven are not to be worshipped by the people. Upon these articles the said William Tailor being examined, denied that he did preach or hold them in way of defending them, but only did commune and talk upon the same, especially upon the second and third articles, only in way of reasoning and for argument’s sake. And to justify his opinion to be true in that which he did hold, he brought out of his bosom a paper or libel written, wherein were contained certain articles, with the testimonies of the doctors alleged, and exhibited the same unto the archbishop. Who then being bid to stand aside, the archbishop, consulting together with the bishops and other prelates what was to be done in the matter, delivered the writings unto Master John Castle, and John Rikynghale, the two chancellors of Oxford and Cambridge, and to John Langdon, monk of Canterbury; who, advising with themselves and with other divines about the articles and allegations, on the Monday following presented the said articles of William Tailor to the archbishop and prelates, as erroneous and heretical. Whereupon William Tailor, being called before them, in conclusion was contented to revoke the same, and for his penance, was by them condemned to perpetual prison. Notwithstanding, on his showing signs of penitence, through favor they were contented that he should be released from his carceral endurance, in case he would put in sufficient surety in the king’s chancery, and swear that he would never hold or favor any such opinions hereafter. And so taking an oath of him, the archbishop committed him to the custody of the bishop of Worcester, to whom power and authority were permitted to release him, upon the conditions aforesaid. In the mean time 509 there passed certain writings between him and one Thomas Smith, priest at Bristol, in which William Tailor replied against the said Thomas concerning the question of worshipping of saints. Upon the occasion of which reply being brought to the hands of the bishop of Worcester, William Tailor began anew to be troubled, and was brought again before the public convocation of the clergy by the said bishop of Worcester, to answer unto his writings. This was A.D. 1423, 510 the eleventh day of February; unto the which convocation the said William being presented, his writings were read to him; which he would not, nor could not, deny to be of his own hand-writing. The tenor and effect of whose writings only tended to prove, that every petition and prayer for any supernatural gift ought to be directed to God alone, and to no creature. Albeit, in this his writing, he did not utterly deny that it was lawful in any respect to pray to saints (and bringeth for the same Thomas Aquinas), but only in respect of that worship, which is called ‘cultus latriae:’ 6 and he further so prosecuted his mind herein, that he seemed little or nothing to differ from the superstition of the papists, as most plainly appeareth by his own words, saying, “Nunquam tamen negavi, ant negare intendo, merita ant sanctorum suffragia tam beatorum quam viantium, tam vivis quam mortuis ad hoc dispositis, quantum possunt, suffragari vel proficere; quia hoc est elicibile ex Scriptura, quae non fallit, et ex consona ratione,” etc. And, moreover, he inferred the example of Moses, who prayed unto God, alleging the merits of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who were dead, etc. And furthermore, passing from the testimony of Jerome, he alleged that of St. Austin, who of Stephen saith, 511 “Quod nunc multo magis exaudietur pro veneratoribus suis, quam tune exauditus est pro lapidatoribus.” 7 And at length he came to this conclusion, proving by St. Austin in this manner: “Ne igitur, cum impiis et idololatris in Veteri Testamento, in circuitu ambulemus, nunquam deveniendo ad centrum, sanum est quod faciamus secundum consilium Apostoli sic dicentis, ‘Accedamus cure fiducia ad thronum gratiae ejus, ut misericordiam consequamur, et gratiam inveniamus in auxilio opportuno,’“ etc. 8 That is, “And therefore, lest we run about in circles with the wicked, and with the idolaters of the Old Testament, and never come to the center, therefore it is good that we follow the counsel of the apostle, saying, ‘Let us resort with boldness unto the throne of his grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace in time of opportune help,’” etc. Thus much out of the aforesaid writings of William Tailor I have excerped, to the intent that the indifferent reader, using his judgment herein, may see how little matter was in this, wherefore he should be condemned by the papists. And yet notwithstanding, the same writing, being delivered by the archbishop on Saturday, February 20th, to the four orders of friars of London to be examined, was found erroneous and heretical in these points: I. That every prayer which is a petition of some supernatural gift or free gift, is to be directed only to God. II. Item, That prayer is to be directed to God alone. III. Item, To pray to any creature is to commit idolatry. IV. Item, That prayer is to be directed to God, not in respect of his manhood but of his Godhead only. 512 So that although all these opinions agreed in one, yet, to make up a number, every order of the four sorts of friars thought to find out some matter to offer up to the archbishop against him, lest one order should seem more cunning or pregnant, in finding out more than could another; or else perchance lest any of them should seem to favor the party, in bringing nothing against him, as the rest had done. When the Thursday was come, 513 which was the twenty-fifth day of February, upon the which day the four orders were appointed to declare their censure upon the articles in the chapter-house of Paul’s, first appeared friar John Tille, for the Black friars; then friar Thomas Winchelsey, for the friars Minor; then friar John Low, for the Augustines; and after him friar Thomas Ashwel, for the Carmelites; each friar for his order severally bringing his heresy, as is above specified. Thus the verdict of these four orders being given up to the arch-bishop, and severally each order coming in with his heresy, which was the twentyfifth day of February; hereupon cometh down a writ from the king, directed to the lord-mayor and sheriffs of London, ‘De haeretico comburendo,’ dated the first day of March, the first year of his reign, the copy whereof remaineth in the Records of the Tower, beginning thus: ‘Rex majori et vice comitibus.’ Whereupon the said William Tailor was condemned as a relapse, first to be degraded, and afterwards to be burned; and so was committed to the secular power: who then being had to Smithfield, with christian constancy, after long imprisonment, there did consummate his martyrdom, the first day of March, 1423. The manner of his degrading 514 was all one with the degrading of John Huss before; for the papists use but one form for all men. First, degrading them from priesthood, by taking from them the chalice and patin, and the casule and stole; from deaconship, by taking from them the gospel-book, and the dalmatic and stole; from sub-deaconship, by taking from them the epistle-book, and the dalmatic and maniple; from acolyteship, by taking from them the cruet and taper-holder; from an exorcist, by taking away the book of exorcisms; from the sextonship, by taking away the church keys, and the albe and amice; and likewise from bene’t, by taking away the surplice and first tonsure, etc. All which they orderly accomplished upon this godly martyr, before his burning. JOHN FLORENCE, A TURNER. John Florence, a turner, dwelling in Shelton, in the diocese of Norwich, was attached for that he held and taught these heresies (as they called them) here under-written, contrary to the determination of the church of Rome: Imprimis , That the pope and cardinals have no power to make or constitute any laws. Item, That there is no day to be kept holy, but only the Sunday, which God hath hallowed. Item, That men ought to fast no other time, but the ‘Quatuor temporum.’ Item, That images are not to be worshipped; neither that the people ought to set up any lights before them in the churches; neither to go on pilgrimage; neither to offer for the dead, nor with women that are purified. Item, That curates should not take the tithes of their parishioners, 9 but that such tithes should be divided amongst the poor parishioners. Item, That all such as swear by their life or power, shall be damned, except they repent. On Wednesday, August 2d, A.D. 1424, the said John Florence personally appeared before William Bernham, chancellor to William 10 bishop of Norwich, where he, proceeding against him, objected the first article touching the power of the pope and cardinals; to which article the said John Florence answered in this manner: “If the pope live uprightly, as Peter lived, he hath power to make laws; otherwise I believe he hath no power.” But being afterward threatened by the judge, he acknowledged that he had erred, and submitted himself to the correction of the church, and was abjured; taking an oath that from that time forward he should not hold, teach, preach, or willingly defend, any error or heresy contrary to the determination of the church of Rome; neither maintain, help, nor aid, any that shall teach or hold any such errors or heresies, either privily or apertly. And for his offense in this behalf done, he was enjoined this penance following: Three Sundays, in a solemn procession, in the cathedral church of Norwich, he should be disciplined before all the people. 11 The like also should be done about his parish-church of Shelton, three other several Sundays, he being bare-headed, barefooted, and bare-necked, after the manner of a public penitentiary; his body being covered with a canvass-shirt and canvass-breeches; carrying in his hand a taper of a pound weight: and that done, he was dismissed. RICHARD BELWARD, AND OTHERS. Richard Belward, of Ersham, in the diocese of Norwich,was accused for holding and teaching these errors and opinions here under written, contrary to the determination of the church of Rome. Imprimis , That ecclesiastical ministers and ordinaries 12 have no power to excommunicate, neither can excommunicate. And albeit that a bishop do excommunicate any man, God doth absolve him. Item, That he held the erroneous opinions and conclusions which sir John Oldcastle held when he was in prison, and affirmed that sir John Oldcastle was a true catitalic man, and falsely condemned, and put to death without any reasonable cause. Item, That such as go on pilgrimage, offering to images made of wood and stone, are excommunicated, because they ought to offer to the quick, and not to the dead; and that the ecclesiastical ministers (that is to say, the curates,) do sell God upon Easter-day, when they receive offerings of such as should communicate, before they do minister the sacrament unto them. Item, That he counselled divers women, that they should not offer in the church for the dead, neither with women that were purified. Item, That he blamed divers of his neighbors that refused his doctrine, saying unto them, ‘Truly ye are fools that deny to learn the doctrine of my sect; for your neighbors who are of my sect, are able to confound and vanquish all others that are of your sect.’ Item, That the saints who are in heaven ought in no case to be prayed unto, but only God. Item, That the said Richard keepeth schools of Lollardy in the English tongue, in the town of Dychingham, and a certain parchment-maker bringeth him all the books containing that doctrine from London. On the fifth of July, 1424, the said Richard Belward, was brought before John, bishop of Norwich, sitting in place of judgment, where the aforesaid articles were objected against the said Richard, which he there denied; whereupon the bishop appointed him another day to purge himself, the Monday next after the feast of St. Margaret: upon which day, being the twenty-fourth of July, in the year aforesaid, he appeared again before the bishop, and brought with him nine of his neighbors to purge him upon those articles, and there did solemnly purge himself. And afterwards, forasmuch as the said bishop suspected the said Richard Belward greatly of Lollardy, he commanded him there, presently, to swear upon the evangelists, that from that day forward he would not wittingly preach, teach, or defend, any error or heresy contrary to the church of Rome, neither aid, assist, favor, nor maintain, privily or apertly, any manner of person or persons, who should hold or maintain the said errors or heresies. In the presence of Master William Bernham, John Wadden, Robert Serle, and John Berne, esquire, and other of his neighbors who came unto his purgation. In like manner John Goddesel, of Dychingham, parchment-maker, was detected and accused upon the same articles, and thereupon brought before the bishop, where he, denying them, purged himself by his neighbors, as Richard Belward before had done, being sworn also in like manner as he was; and so was dismissed and set at liberty until A.D. 1428, when he was again apprehended and accused, and abjured, as shall be more at large declared in the history, when we come to that year. Sir Hugh Pie also, chaplain of Ludney in the diocese of Norwich, was likewise accused and brought before the bishop of Norwich on the fifth of July, A.D. 1424, for holding these opinions following: That the people ought not to go on pilgrimage. Item, That the people ought not to give alms, but only unto such as beg at their doors. Item, That the image of the cross and other images are not to be worshipped; and that the said Hugh had cast the cross of Bromehold into the fire to be burned, which he took from one John Welgate of Ludney. Which articles, as is aforesaid, being objected against him, he utterly denied; whereupon he had a day appointed to purge himself by the witness of three lay-men, and three priests. That so done, he was sworn as the other before, and so dismissed. After this, A.D. 1428, king Henry VI. sent down most cruel letters of commission unto John Exeter and Jacolet Germain, keeper of the castle of Colchester, for the apprehending of sir William White, priest, and others suspected of heresies, the tenor whereof hereafter ensueth. THE COPY OF THE KING’S LETTERS DIRECTED TO JOHN EXETER AND JACOLET GERMAIN, Keeper of the Castle of Colchester, for the apprehending of Sir William White, Priest, and other Lollards, as they called them. Henry, by the grace of God, king of England and of France, lord of Ireland, to his well-beloved John Exeter, and Jacolet Germain, keeper of the castle of Colchester, health: Ye shall understand that we, fully trusting to your fidelity and circumspections, have appointed you jointly and severally to take and arrest William White, priest, and Thomas, late chaplain of Setling, in the county of Norfolk, and William Northampton, priest, and all others, whatsoever they be, that are suspected of heresy or Lollardy, wheresoever they may be found within the liberties or without, and straightway, being so taken, to send them unto our next gaol or prison, until such time as we shall have taken other order for their delivery: and therefore we straightly command, you, that ye diligently attend about the premises, and fulfill the same in form aforesaid. Also we charge and command all and singular justices of the peace, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs, constables, and all other our faithful officers, by the tenor of these presents, that they do assist, aid, and counsel you and every of you, in the execution of the premises, as it shall be comely for them. In witness whereof we have caused these our letters patent to be made. Witness myself at Westminster, the sixth of July, the sixth of our reign. By virtue of which commission we find in old monuments, that within short space after, John Exeter, who was appointed one of the commissioners, attached six persons in the town of Bungay, in the diocese of Norwich; and committed them to William Day and William Roe, constables of the town of Bungay, to be sent within ten days following, under safe custody, unto the castle of Norwich; whose names, through the antiquity of the monument, were so defaced, that we could not attain to the perfect knowledge of them all; only three names partly remained in the worn book to be read, which were these: John Waddon, of Tenterden, in the county of Kent; Bartholomew, monk of Ersham, in the county of Norfolk; Corneleader, a married man; William Skuts. These three were in the custody of the duke of Norfolk, at his castle of Framlingham. Beside these, we also find in the said old monuments within the diocese of Norfolk and Suffolk, especially in the towns of Beccles, Ersham, and Ludney, a great number both of men and women to have been vexed and cast into prison; and, after their abjuration, brought to open shame in churches and markets, by the bishop of the said diocese, called William, and his chancellor, William Bernham, John Exeter being the registrar therein; so that within the space of three or four years (that is, from the year 1428, unto the year 1481), about the number of one hundred and twenty men and women were examined, and sustained great vexation for the profession of the christian faith; of whom some were only taken upon suspicion, for eating of meats prohibited upon vigil-days, who, upon their purga-tion made, escaped more easily away, and with less punishment; whose names here follow subscribed. A CATALOGUE OF GOOD MEN AND WOMEN THAT WERE TAKEN AND EXAMINED UPON SUSPICION OF HERESY. 1. Robert Skirving, of Harlstone. 2. William Skirving. 3. John Terry, of Ersham. 4. John Abtre, of Ersham. 5. John Middleton, of Halvergate. 6. John Wayde, of Ersham. 7. Richard Clark, of Sething. 8. Thomas White,of Berlingham. 9. Master Robert Beert, of Berry. 10. Richard Page, of Clipsly. The others were more cruelly handled, and some of them were put to death and burned; among whom we do specially find mention made of these three: Father Abraham, of Colchester; William White, priest; John Waddon, priest. The residue (or a great number of good men and women were forced to abjure), sustaining such cruel penance as pleased the said bishop and his chancellor then to lay upon them. The names of whom, both men and women, here follow together in this brief catalogue to be seen. NAMES John Beverley. John Wardon. John Baker. John Middleton John Kynget. Margery Backster John Skilley. John Godhold. Thomas Albeck. John Pierce. Nicholas Canon, of Eye. Thomas Pie John Mendham. John Middleton. Thomas Chatris. Thomas Wade William Tador. Katherine Davy Sir Hugh Pie, priest. Bartholomew Tatcher. Thomas James. John Fouling. Bertram Cornmonger. Thomas Swerden. Alanus Andrew. William Wright. William Everden. William Tailor. Avis, the wife of Thomas Moon, and Richard Fletcher, of Beckles. her daughter. Nicholas Belward. Thomas Grenemere. John Clark William Bate. William Scherming. William Osbourne John Rene, of Beckles. Baldwin Cooper, of Beckles. John Pert, Master Moon’s servant. Robert Brigs. John Finch. John Wropham. Thomas Moon. Isabel Chaplain, of Martham William Masse, of Ersham. JohnGoodwin, of Ersham Henry Latchcold, of Ersham. Henry Boode, of Ersham. Richard Horne, of Ersham John Belward, sen., of Ersham John Belward, jun., of Ersham John Spire, of Bungay. Rob. Cole, of Turning The herd of Shepemedow Isabel Davy, of Costes. Sibyl, wife of John Godesel, of Dicham John Pyry, of Bartham John Baker. Margery Wright Thomas Burrel, and his wife. John Pert Edmund Archer. The clerk of Ludney Richard Clark, of Sething. Katherine, wife of William Wright. William Coilin, of Southcreke. Richard King, of Windham Thomas Plowman. John Fellis. Richard Knobbing, of Beckles. John Eldon, of Beckles. William Hardy. William Bate. John Weston. Katherine Hobs John Daw. Robert Grigs, of Martham William Calls, priest Thomas Pert; priest. John Cupper, vicar ofTunstal Jacob Bodhome,and Margaret, his wife. John Manning, of Marton. John Culling, of Beemster. Richard Fletcher, of Beckles, and Matilda, his wife. John Elden, of Beckles. Robert Canel, priest. Nicholas Drey. William Hardy, of Mund-ham. John Poleyne. These before-named persons, and soldiers of Christ, being much beaten with the cares and troubles of those days, although they were constrained to relent and abjure (that is, to protest otherwise with their tongues, than their hearts did think), partly through correction, and partly through infirmity, being as yet but newly-trained soldiers in God’s field, yet for the good will they bare unto the truth, although with their tongues they durst not express it, we have thought good that their names should not be suppressed, as well for other sundry causes, as especially for this: either to stop the mouths of malignant adversaries, or to answer to their ignorance, who, following rather blind affection, than the true knowledge of times and antiquities, for lack of knowledge blame that they know not, accusing the true doctrine of the word of God for novelty, and carping at the teachers thereof for new-broached brethren; who, if they did as well foresee times past, as they be unwilling to follow times now present, they should understand as well by these stories as by others before, how this doctrine of the grace of God, lacking no antiquity, hath, from time to time, continually sought to burst out, and in some places hath prevailed, although in most places, through the tyranny and malice of men, Christ’s proceedings have been suppressed and kept under from rising, so much as men’s power and strength, joined with craft and subtlety, could labor to keep down the same; as here by these good men of Norfolk and Suffolk may well appear, For if the knowledge and good-towardness of those good men had had the like liberty of time, with the help of like authority, as we have now, and. had not been restrained, through the iniquity of time and tyranny of prelates, it had well appeared how old this doctrine would have been, which now they contemn and reject for the newness thereof: neither needed Bonner to have asked of Thomas Hawks, and such others, where their church was forty years ago; inasmuch as for forty years ago, and more, within the county of Norfolk and Suffolk, was then found such plenty of the same profession and like doctrine which we now profess. And thus much.for the number and names of these persons. Now as touching their articles which they did maintain and defend: First, this is to be considered, as I find it in the registers, such society and agreement of doctrine to be amongst them, that in their assertions and articles there was almost no difference. The doctrine of the one was the doctrine of all the others. What their articles were, partly is showed in the leaf before; and partly here followeth to be declared more at large. Although it is to be thought concerning these articles, that many of them either were falsely objected against them, or not truly reported of the notaries (according as the common manner is of these adversaries, where the matter is good, there to make heresy, and of a little occasion to stir up great matter of slander, as they did before by the articles of John Wickliff and John Huss, and others): so, in like manner, it seemeth they did in the articles of these men, either mistaking that which they said, or misunderstanding that which they meant, especially in these two articles concerning baptism and paying of tithes. For where they, speaking against the ceremonial and superflous traditions then used in baptism, as salt, oil, spittle, taper, light, chrisms, exorcising of the water, with such other like, accounted them as no material thing in the holy institution of baptism; the notaries, slanderously depraving this their assertion, to make it more odious to the ears of the people, so gave out the article, as though they should hold, that the sacrament of baptism, used in the church by water, is but a light matter, and of small effect. Again, in speaking against the christening which the midwives use in private houses, against the opinion of such as think such children to be damned who depart before they come to their baptism, they are falsely reported, as though they should say: That christian people be sufficiently baptized in the blood of Christ, and need no water; and that infants be sufficiently baptized, if their parents be baptized before them. Which thing is so contrary to the manifest Word, that it is not to be thought that any are so ignorant of the gospel, that they ever would, or did, affirm the same. Moreover they thought or said peradventure, That in certain cases tithes might be withholden from wicked priests sometimes, and be conferred to better uses; to the behoof of the poor. Therefore they are falsely slandered, as saying and affirming, that no tithes are to be given to the ministers and curates of the churches. And likewise for matrimony, wherein they are reported to hold and affirm, as though it consisted only in the mutual consent betwixt the man and the woman, needing no other solemnizing in the public church; and all because (as it is likely) they denied it to be a sacrament. Other articles were objected against them, as these which hereafter follow: That auricular confession is not to be made unto a priest, but unto God only; because no priest hath any power to absolve a sinner from his sin. Item, That no priest hath power to make the body of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, but that, after the sacramental words, there remaineth pure material bread as before. Item, That every true christian man is a priest to God. Item, That no man is bound, under pain of damnation, unto Lent, or any other days prohibited by the church of Rome. Item, That the pope is Antichrist, and his prelates the disciples of Antichrist, and that the pope hath no power to bind and loose upon earth. Item, That it is lawful for every Christian to do any bodily work (sin only excepted) upon holy-days. Item, That it is lawful for priests to have wives. Item, That the excommunications and ecclesiastical censures given out by the prelates, are not to be regarded. Item, That it is not lawful to swear in private cases. Item, That men ought not to go on pilgrimage. Item, That there is no honor to be given to the images of the crucifix, of our lady, or any other saint. Item, That the holy water, hallowed in the church by the priest, is not holier or of more virtue than other running or well-water, because the Lord blessed all waters in their first creation. Item, That the death of Thomas Becket was neither holy nor meritorious. Item, That relics, as dead men’s bones, ought neither to be worshipped nor digged out of their graves, nor set up in shrines. Item, That prayers made in all places are acceptable unto God. Item, That men ought not to pray to any saint, but only to God. Item, That the bells and ringing in the church, were ordained for no other purpose, than to fill the priests’ purses. Item, That it is no sin to withstand the ecclesiastical precepts. Item, That the catholic church is only the congregation of the elect. These were the articles which were generally objected against them all, wherein they did so agree in one uniform faith, that whatsoever one did hold, all the others did maintain, and hold the same. By which their consent and doctrine it appeareth, that they all received it of some one instructor, who was William White; who being a scholar and follower of John Wickliff, resorted afterwards into this country of Norfolk, and there instructed these men in the light of the gospel. And now, as we have declared the names and articles of these good men, so it remaineth somewhat to speak of their troubles (how they were handled), beginning first with William White. WILLIAM WHITE, PRIEST This William White, being a follower of John Wickliff, 16 and a priest, not after the common sort of priests, but rather to be reputed amongst the number of them of whom the wise man speaketh, [Ecclus, 18] ‘He was as the morning star in the midst of a cloud,’ etc.; this man was well learned, upright, and a well-spoken priest. He gave over his priesthood and benefice, and took unto him a godly young woman to his wife, named Joan; notwithstanding he did not therefore cease or leave from his former office and duty, but continually labored to the glory and praise of the spouse of Christ, by reading, writing, and preaching. The principal points of his doctrine were these, which he was forced to recant at Canterbury: That men should seek for the forgiveness of their sins only at the hands of God. That the wicked living of the pope and his holiness, is nothing else but a devilish estate and heavy yoke of Antichrist, and therefore he is an enemy unto Christ’s truth. That men ought not to worship images, or other idolatrous paintings. That men ought not to worship the holy men who are dead. That the Romish church is the fig-tree which the Lord Christ hath accursed, because it hath brought forth no fruit of the true belief. That such as wear cowls, or be anointed or shorn, are the lanceknights and soldiers of Lucifer; and that they all, because their lamps are not burning, shall be shut out, when the Lord Christ shall come. Upon which articles he, being attached at Canterbury under the archbishop Henry Chichesley, A.D. 1424, there, for a certain space, stoutly and manfully witnessed the truth which he had preached. But like as there he lost his courage and strength, so afterwards he became again much more stout and strong in Jesus Christ, and confessed his own error and offense. For after this, going into Norfolk with his said wife Joan, and there occupying himself busily in teaching and converting the people unto the true doctrine of Christ, at last, by means of the king’s letters sent down for that intent and purpose, he was apprehended and taken, and brought before William bishop of Norwich, by whom he was convicted, and condemned of thirty articles, and there was burned in Norwich, in the month of September, A.D. 1428. This William White and his wife had their chief abode with one Thomas Moon of Ludney. 516 He was of so devout and holy a life, that all the people had him in great reverence, and desired him to pray for them; insomuch that one Margaret Wright confessed, that if any saints were to be prayed to, she would rather pray to him than any other. When he was come unto the stake, thinking to open his mouth to speak unto the people, to exhort and confirm them in the verity, one of the bishop’s servants struck him on the mouth, thereby to force him to keep silence. And thus this good man, receiving the crown of martyrdom, ended this mortal life to the great dolor and grief of all the good men of Norfolk; whose said wife Joan, following her husband’s footsteps according to her power, teaching and sowing abroad the same doctrine, confirmed many men in God’s truth; wherefore she suffered much trouble and punishment the same year at the hands of the said bishop. About the same time also were burned Father Abraham, of Colchester, and John Waddon, priest, for the like articles. Concerning those who abjured, how and by whom they were examined, what depositions came in against them, and what was the order and manner of the penance enjoined them, here it might be set out at large; but, for avoiding of prolixity, it shall be sufficient briefly to touch certain of the principals, whereby the better understanding may be given to the reader, after what manner and order all the others were treated. First, amongst those who were arrested and caused to abjure in this year before specified (1428), were Thomas Pie and John Mendham of Aidborough; who, being convicted upon divers of the articles beforementioned, were enjoined penance to be done in their own parish church, as by the bishop’s letter, directed to the dean of Rhodenhall, and to the parish priest of Aidborough, doth more at large appear; the tenor whereof here ensueth: COPY OF THE LETTER OF THE BISHOP OF NORWICH, RESPECTING THOMAS PIE AND JOHN MENDHAM. William, by the divine permission bishop of Norwich, to our wellbeloved sons in Christ, the dean of Rhodenhall of our diocese, and to the parish priest of the parish church of Aidborough of the same our diocese, health, grace, and benediction. Forsomuch as we, according to our office, lawfully proceeding to the correction and amendment of the souls of Thomas Pie and John Mendham of Aidborough of the diocese aforesaid, because they have holden, believed, and affirmed divers and many errors and heresies, contrary to the determination of the holy church of Rome and the universal church. and to the catholic faith, have enjoined the said Thomas and John, appearing before us personally, and confessing before us judicially that they have bolden, believed, and affirmed divers and many errors and heresies, this penance hereunder written for their offenses, to be done and fulfilled in manner, form, and time, hereunder written, according as justice doth require—that is to say, six fustigations [or displings, or whippings] about the parish church of Aidborough aforesaid before the solemn procession six several Sundays, and three whippings [or displings] about the market-place of Harlstone of our said diocese three principal market-days; bare neck, head, legs, and feet; their bodies being covered only with their shirts and breeches; either of them carrying a taper in his hand of a pound weight, as well round about the church, as about the market-place, in every of the foresaid appointed days; which tapers, the last Sunday after the penance finished, we will that the said John and Thomas do humbly and devoutly offer unto the high altar of the parish church of Aidborough at the time of the offertory of the high mass the same day, and that either of them, going about the market-place aforesaid, shall make four several pauses or stays, and, at every of those same pauses, humbly and devoutly receive at our hands three whippes [or displings]—Therefore we straitly charge and command you, and either of you, jointly and severally, by virtue of your obedience, that every Sunday and market-day after the receipt of our present commandment, you do effectually admonish and bring forth the said Thomas Pie and John Mendham to begin and accomplish their said penance; and so successively to finish the same in manner and form afore-appointed. But if they will not obey your monitions, or rather our commandments in this behalf, and begin and finish their said penance effectually, you or one of you shall cite them peremptorily, that they, or either of them, appear before us, or our commissary, in the chapel of our palace at Norwich, the twelfth day after the citation so made, if it be a court day, or else the next court day following, to declare if they or any of them have any cause why they should not be excommunicated for their manifest offense in this behalf committed, according to the form and order of law, and further, to receive such punishment, as justice shall provide in that behalf. And what you have done in the premises, whether the said Thomas and John have obeyed your admonitions, and performed the same penance or no, we will that you or one of you, who have received our said commandment for the execution thereof, do distinctly certify us between this and the last day of November next coming. Dated at our palace of Norwich, under our commissary’s seal, the eighth day of October, Anno 1428. This, gentle reader! was, for the most part, the order of their whole penance, howbeit some were oftentimes more cruelly handled; and after their penance they were banished out of the diocese, and others were more straitly used by longer imprisonment, whereof we will briefly rehearse one or two for example. JOHN BEVERLY, ALAIS BATTILD, A LABORER. John Beverly, alias Battild, a laborer, was attached by the vicar of Southcreke, the parish priest of Waterden, and a lawyer, and so delivered unto Master William Bernham, the bishop’s commissary, who sent him to the castle of Norwich, there to be kept in irons: where afterwards, being brought before the commissary, and having nothing proved against him, he took an oath, that every year afterwards he would confess his sins once a year to his curate, and receive the sacrament at Easter, as other Christians did. And for his offense he was enjoined, that upon the Friday and Saturday next after he should fast on bread and water, and upon the Saturday be whipped 17 from the palace of Norwich, going round about by Tomblands, 517 and by St. Michael’s church, by Cottlerew, and about the market, having in his hand a wax-candle of two-pence, to offer to the image of the Trinity after he had done his penance. And, forasmuch as he confessed that he had eaten flesh upon Easter-day, and was not shriven in all Lent, nor received upon Easter-day, the judge enjoined him that he should fast Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, in Whitsun-week, having but one meal a day of fish and other white meats; and, after this penance so done, he should depart out of the diocese, and never come there any more. JOHN SKILLEY OF FLIXTOM, MILLER AND OTHERS. John Skilley of Flixton, miller, being apprehended and brought before the bishop of Norwich on the 14th of March, A.D. 1428, for holding and maintaining the articles above-written, was thereupon convicted and forced to abjure; and after this abjuration solemnly made (which here, to avoid tediousness, we omit), he had a most sharp sentence of penance pronounced against him, the effect whereof, being briefly collected, was this: that forasmuch as the said Skilley was convicted by his own confession, for holding and maintaining the articles before-written, and for receiving certain good and godly men into his house, as sir William White, priest, and John Wadden, whom they called famous, notorious, and damnable heretics, and had now abjured the same, being first absolved from the sentence of excommunication which he had incurred by means of his opinions, he was enjoined for penance seven years’ imprisonment in the monastery of Langley, in the diocese of Norwich. And forasmuch as in times past he used upon the Fridays to eat flesh, he was enjoined to fast on bread and water every Friday for the space of seven years to come; and that by the space of two years next immediately after the seven years expired, on every Wednesday in the beginning of Lent, and on every Maunday-Thursday, he should appear before the bishop, or his successor or commissary for the time being, in the cathedral church of Norwich, together with the other penitentiaries, to do open penance for his offenses. Besides these there were divers others of the same company, who the same year were forced to like abjuration and penance. And so, to proceed to the next year following, which was A.D. 1429, there ensueth a great number in the same register, who were examined, and did penance in like sort, to the number of sixteen or seventeen; in the number of whom was John Baker, otherwise called Usher Tunstal, who, for having a book with the Pater-Noster, the Ave, and the Creed, in English, and for certain other articles of fasting, confession, and invocation, contrary to the determination of the Romish church, after much vexation for the same, was caused to abjure and sustain such penance, as the others before him had done. THE STORY OF MARGERY BACKSTER AND OTHERS. Another was Margery Backster, wife of Wiliam Backster, wright, in Marham, the same year accused; against whom one Joan, wife of Cliffland, was brought in by the bishop, and compelled to depose, and was made to bring in, in form following: First, That the said Margery Backster did inform this deponent, that she should in no case swear; saying to her in English: ‘Dame, beware of the bee, for every bee will sting; and therefore take heed you swear not, neither by God, neither by our lady, neither by any other saint; and if ye do contrary, the bee will sting your tongue and venom your soul.’ Item, This deponent being demanded by the said Margery, what she did every day at church; she answered, that she kneeled, down and said five Pater-Nosters, in worship of the crucifix, and as many Ave Marias in worship of our lady. Whom Margery rebuked, saying, ‘You do evil to kneel or pray to such images in the churches, for God dwelleth not in such churches, neither shall he come down out of heaven; and he will give you no more reward for such prayer, than a candle lighted and set under the cover of the font, will give light by night to those who are in the church:’ saying, moreover, in English: ‘Lewd wrights of stocks hew and form such crosses and images, and, after that, lewd painters gleer them with colors. And if you desire so much to see the true cross of Christ, I will show it you at home in your own house.’ Which this deponent being desirous to see, the said Margery, stretching out her arms abroad, said to this deponent: ‘This is the true cross of Christ, and this cross thou oughtest and mayest every day behold and worship in thine own house; and therefore it is but vain to run to the church, to worship dead crosses and images.’ Item, This deponent, being demanded by the said Margery how she believed touching the sacrament of the altar, said that she believed the sacrament of the altar, after the consecration, to be the very body of Christ in form of bread. To whom Margery said: ‘Your belief is nought. For if every such sacrament were God, and the very body of Christ, there should be an infinite number of gods, because that a thousand priests, and more, do every day make a thousand such gods, and afterwards eat them, and void them out again in places, where, if you will seek them, you may find many such gods. And, therefore, know for certainty, that by the grace of God it shall never be my god, because it is falsely and deceitfully ordained by the priests in the church, to induce the simple people to idolatry; for it is only material bread.’ Moreover, The said Margery said to this deponent, that Thomas of Canterbury, whom the people called Saint Thomas, was a false traitor, and damned in hell, because he injuriously endowed the churches with possessions, and raised up many heresies in the church, which seduce the simple people; and, therefore, if God be blessed, the said Thomas is accursed; and those false priests that say that he suffered his death patiently before the altar, do lie; for as a false cowardly traitor, he was slain in the church door, as he was flying away. Moreover, this deponent saith, that the said Margery told her, that the cursed pope, cardinals, archbishop, and bishops, and especially the bishop of Norwich, and others, that support and maintain heresies and idolatry, reigning and ruling over the people, shall shortly have the very same or worse mischief fall upon them, than that cursed man, Thomas of Canterbury, had. For they falsely and cursedly deceive the people with their false mammetries and laws, to extort money from the simple folk, to sustain their pride, riot, and idleness. And know assuredly that the vengeance of God will speedily come upon them, who have most cruelly slain the children of God, Father Abraham, and William White, a true preacher of the law of God, and John Wadden, with many other godly men; which vengeance had come upon the said Caiaphas, the bishop of Norwich,. and his ministers, who are members of the devil, before this time, if the pope had not sent over these false pardons unto those parties, which the said Caiaphas had falsely obtained, to induce the people to make procession for the,state of them and of the church; which pardons brought the simple people to, cursed idolatry. Item, The said Margery said to this deponent, that every faithful man or woman is not bound to fast in Lent, or on other days appointed for fasting by the church; and that every man may lawfully eat flesh and all other meats upon the said days and times; and that it were better to eat the fragments left upon Thursday at night on the fasting days, than to go to the market to bring themselves in debt to buy fish; and that pope Silvester made the Lent. Item, The said Margery said to this deponent, that William White was falsely condemned for a heretic, and that he was a good and holy man;. and that he willed her to follow him to the place of execution, where she saw that when he would have opened his mouth to speak unto the people to instruct them, a devil, (one of bishop Caiaphas’s servants), struck him on the lips, and stopped his mouth, that he could in no case declare the will of God. Item, This deponent saith, that the said Margery taught her, that she should not go on pilgrimage, neither to our lady of Walsingham, nor to any other saint or place. Also this deponent saith, that, the said Margery desired her, that she and Joan her maid would come secretly, in the night, to her chamber, and there she should hear her husband read the law of Christ unto them, which law was written in a book that her husband was wont to read to her by night: and that her husband is well learned in the christian verity. Also that the same Margery had talked with a woman named Joan West, and that the said woman is in a good way of salvation. Also that the said Margery said to this deponent, ‘Joan,it appeareth by your countenance,, that you intend to disclose this that I have said unto you;’ and this deponent sware that she would never disclose it, without the said Margery gave her occasion. Then said Margery unto this deponent: ‘If thou do accuse me unto the bishop, I will do unto thee, as I did once unto certain friar, a Carmelite of Yarmouth, who was the best learned friar in all the country.’ Then this deponent desired to know what she had done to the friar. Unto whom Margery answered, that she had talked with the said friar, rebuking him because he did beg, saying, that it was no alms to give him any good thing, except he would leave his habit, and go to the plough, and so he should please God more, than following the life of some of those friars. Then the friar required of the said Margery, whether she could teach him or tell him any thing else. Then the said Margery (as she affirmed to this deponent) declared to this friar the gospel, in English; and then the friar departed from her. After this the said friar accused the said Margery of heresy; and she, understanding that the friar had accused her, accused the friar again, that he would have seduced her; and because she would not consent unto him, the friar had accused her of heresy. And, moreover, she said, that her husband would have killed the friar there-for; and so the friar, for fear, held his peace, and went his way for shame. This Margery also said, that she had oftentimes been feignedly confessed to the dean of the fields, because he should think her to be a woman of good life; and therefore he gave the said Margery oftentimes money. Then this deponent asked her whether she had confessed her sins to a priest or not. And she answered, that she had never offended any priest, and therefore she would never confess herself to any priest, neither obey him; because they have no power to absolve any man from his sins, for that they offend daily more grievously than other men; and therefore that men ought to confess themselves only unto God, and to no priest. Item, That the said Margery said to this deponent, that the people did worship devils who fell from heaven with Lucifer; which devils, in their fall to the earth, entered into the images which stand in the churches, and have long lurked and dwell in them; so that the people, worshipping those images, commit idolatry. Item, She said moreover to this deponent, that holy bread and holy water were but trifles of no effect or force; and that the bells are to be cast out of the church, and that they are excommunicated who first ordained them. Moreover, that she should not be burned, although she were convicted of Lollardy, for that she had a charter of salvation in her body. Also the said deponent saith, that Agnes Berthem, her servant, being sent to the house of the said Margery the Saturday after Ash-Wednesday, the said Margery not being within, found a brass pot standing over the fire, with a piece of bacon and oatmeal seething in it; as the said Agnes reported to this deponent. There were also, besides this deponent, divers others sworn and examined upon the said Margery, as John Grimley and Agnes Berthem, servants to William Cliffland, who all together confirmed the former depositions. Thus much we have thought good to note, as concerning Margery Backster, which we have gathered out of the old monuments and registers. But what became of her after this her accusation, because we find no mention made in the said registers, we are not able to declare. THE SAME YEAR ALSO WERE THE LIKE DEPOSITIONS MADE BY ONE WILLIAM WRIGHT AGAINST DIVERS GOOD MEN, AS HERE FOLLOWETH. First, This deponent saith, that William Taylor told John Pity of Ludney, in the house of John Bungay of Beghton, in the presence of John Bungay, Robert Grigges, wright, of Martham, and John Usher, that all the good men of Martham who were favorers and helpers to that good man William White, are evil troubled now-adays; and that the said William White was a good and holy doctor; and that the best doctor after him was William Everden, who wrought with the said William Taylor of Ludney, by the space of one month; and that the first Sunday of the same month, the said William Everden did sit all day upon the table at work, saying to the said William Taylor, that he would not go to church to show himself a scribe or a pharisee; and the second Sunday he put on gentlemen’s apparel, and went to Norwich, to hearken how the bishop and his ministers used the poor Christians there in prison. Also the said William Wright deposed, that William Taylor of Ludney was one of the sect, and went to London with sir Hugh Pie, and had conversation oftentimes with sir William White, having often conference upon the Lollards’ doctrine. Item, That Anise, wife of Thomas Moon, is of the same sect, and favored them, and receiveth them often; and also the daughter of Thomas Moon is partly of the same sect, and can read English. Item, That Richard Fletcher, of Beckles, is a most perfect doctor in that sect, and can very well and perfectly expound the holy Scriptures, and hath a book of the new law in English, which was first sir Hugh Pie’s. Item, That Nicholas Belward, son of John Belward, dwelling in the parish of Southelem, is one of the same sect, and hath a New Testament which he bought at London for four marks and fortypence, and taught the said William Wright and Margery his wife, and wrought with them continually by the space of one year, and studied diligently upon the said New Testament. Item, That Thomas Gremner, turner, of Dychingham, is perfect in that sect and law. John Clark the younger, of Burgh, had the bedding and apparel of William Everden in his custody, after the return of William White from Burgh, and is of the same sect. Item, William Bate, tailor, of Sethlug, and his wife, and his son, who can read English very well, are of the same sect. Item, William Skirving, of Sething, received Joan, the wife of William White, into his house, being brought thither by William Everden, after their departure from Martham. Item, William Osbourn of Sethlug, John Reve, glover, and Bawdwin Cooper of Beckles, are of the same sect. Item, John Pert, late servant of Thomas Moon, is of the same sect, and can read well, and did read in the presence of William White, and was the first that brought sir Hugh Pie into the company of the Lollards, who assembled oftentimes together at the house of the said Thomas Moon, and there conferred upon their doctrine. Item, sir Hugh Pie bequeathed to Alice, servant to William White, a new Testament, which they then called the book of the new law, and was in the custody of Oswald Godfrey of Colchester. John Perker, mercer, of a village by Ipswich, is a famous doctor of that sect. Also he said, that Father Abraham of Colchester is a good man. Item, The said William Wright deposeth, that it is read in the prophecies amongst the Lollards, that the sect of the Lollards shall be in a manner destroyed; notwithstanding at length the Lollards shall prevail and have the victory against all their enemies. Also he said, that Tucke knoweth all of that sect in Suffolk, Norfolk, and Essex. Besides these, there were many others the same year troubled, whose names being before expressed in the table of Norfolk-men, here, for brevity’s sake, we omit further to treat of, passing over to the next year following, which was 1430. John Burrel, servant to Thomas Moon of Ludney, in the diocese of Norwich, was apprehended and arrested for heresy the ninth day of December, in this year of our Lord 1430, and examined by Master William Bernham, the bishop’s commissary, upon the articles before-mentioned, and divers others hereafter following objected against him. Imprimis , That the catholic church is the soul of every good christian man. Item, That no man is bound to fast the Lent, or other fasting days, appointed by the church, for they were not appointed by God, but ordained by the priests; and that every man may eat flesh or fish upon the same days, indifferently, according to his own will, and every Friday is a free day to eat both flesh and fish indifferently. Item, That pilgrimage ought not to be made, but only unto the poor. Item, That it is not lawful to swear, but in case of life and death. Item, That masses and prayers for the dead are but vain, for the souls of the dead are either in heaven or hell; and there is none other place of purgatory but this world. Upon which articles he, being convicted, was forced to abjure, and suffered like penance as the others before had done. Thomas Moon of Ludney was apprehended and attached for suspicion of heresy, against whom were objected by the bishop the articles before written, but especially this article: that he had familiarity and communication with divers heretics, and had received, comforted, supported, and maintained divers of them, as sir William White, sir Hugh Pie, Thomas Pert, and William Callis, priests, with many more; upon which articles he, being convicted before the bishop, was forced to abjure; and received the like penance, in like manner as before. In like manner, Robert Grigges, of Martham, was brought before the bishop the seventeenth day of February, in the year aforesaid,for holding and affirming the aforesaid articles, but especially these hereafter following. That the sacrament of confirmation, ministered by the bishop, doth avail nothing to salvation. That it is no sin to withstand the ordinances of the church of Rome. That holy bread and holy water are but trifles, and that the bread and water are the worse for the conjurations and characters which the priests make over them. Upon which articles he, being convicted, was forced to abjure, and received penance in manner and form as the others had done before him. The like also (albeit somewhat more sharp) happened unto John Finch of Colchester, the twentieth day of September, who, albeit he was of the diocese of London, being suspected of heresy, was attached at Ipswich in the diocese of Norwich, and brought before the bishop there, before whom he, being convicted of the like articles, as all the others before him, was enjoined penance, namely, three disciplinings at solemn procession about the cathedral church of Norwich three several Sundays; and three disciplinings about the market-place of Norwich three principal marketdays; his head, neck, and feet, being bare, and his body covered only with a short shirt or vesture; having in his hands a taper of wax of a pound weight, which, the next Sunday after his penance, he should offer to the Trinity; and that for the space of three years after, every Ash-Wednesday and Maunday-Thursday, he should appear in the cathedral church at Norwich, before the bishop or his vicegerent, to do open penance among the other penitentiaries for his offenses. There were, besides these men whom we have here rehearsed, divers and many others, who, both for the concordance of the matter, and also because their articles and punishments were all one, we have thought good at this time to pass over; especially forasmuch as their names be before recited in the catalogue. RICHARD HOBEDEN, MARTYR. About the same time, even the same year 1430, shortly after the solemn coronation of king Henry VI., a certain man named Richard Hoveden, a wool-winder, and citizen of London, received also the crown of martyrdom; which man, when he could by no persuasions be withdrawn or plucked back from the opinions of Wickliff, was, by the rulers of the church, condemned for heresy, and as Fabian writeth, burned, hard by the Tower of London. NICHOLAS CANON, OF EYE Now to proceed in our story of Norfolk and Suffolk, in following the order of years, we find that in the year of our Lord 1431, one Nicholas Canon, of Eye, was brought before the bishop of Norwich for suspicion of heresy, with certain witnesses sworn to depose against him touching his manners and conversation; which witnesses appointing one William Christopher to speak in the name of them all, he deposed, in manner and form following: DEPOSITIONS AGAINST NICHOLAS CANON. First, That on Easter-day, when all the parishioners went about the church of Eye solemnly in procession, as the manner was, the said Nicholas Canon, as it were mocking and deriding the other parishioners, went about the church the contrary way, and met the procession.—This article he confessed, and affirmed that he thought he did well in so doing. Item, The said Nicholas asked of Master John Colman of Eye, this question: Master Colman, what think you of the sacrament of the altar?’ To whom the said Colman answered: ‘Nicholas, I think that the sacrament of the altar is very God and very man, the very flesh and very blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, under the form of bread and wine.’ Unto whom Nicholas in derision said: ‘Truly, if the sacrament of the altar be very God and very man, and the very body and blood of our Lord Jesu Christ, then may very God and very man be put in a small room; as when it is in the priest’s mouth, that receiveth it at mass. And why may not we simple men as well eat flesh upon Fridays, and all other prohibited days, as the priest to eat the flesh, and drink the blood of our Lord every day indifferently?’—Which article the said Nicholas denied that he spake unto Master Colman, but unto a monk of Hockesney: and, furthermore, he thought he had spoken well in that behalf. Item, That on Corpus Christi day, at the elevation of high mass, when all the parishioners and other strangers kneeled down, holding up their hands, and doing reverence unto the sacrament, the said Nicholas went behind a pillar of the church, and turning his face from the high altar, mocked them that did reverence unto the sacrament.—This article he also acknowledging, affirmed that he believed himself to do well in so doing. Item, When his mother would have the said Nicholas to lift up his right hand, and to cross himself from the crafts and assaults of the devil, forasmuch as he deferred the doing thereof; his mother took up his right hand and crossed him, saying, ‘In nomine Patris, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.’ Which so ended, the said Nicholas, immediately deriding his mother’ s blessing, took up his right hand of his own accord, and blessed him otherwise; as his adversaries report of him.—This article the said Nicholas acknowledged to be true. Item, That upon Allhallows-day, at the time of the elevation of high mass, when many of the parishioners of Eye lighted many torches, and carried them up to the high altar, kneeling down there in reverence and honor of the sacrament, the said Nicholas, carrying a torch, went up hard to the high altar, and standing behind the priest’s back saying mass, at the time of the elevation, stood upright upon his feet, turning his back to the priest, and his face towards the people, and would do no reverence unto the sacrament.—This article he acknowledged, affirming that he thought he had done well in that behalf. All which articles the bishop’s commissary caused to be copied out word for word, and to be sent unto Master William Worsted, prior of the cathedral church of Norwich, and to other doctors of divinity, of the order of begging-friars, that they might deliberate upon them, and show their minds between that and Thursday next following; on which Thursday, being the last of November in the year abovesaid, the said Nicholas was again examined before Master Bernham and divers others, upon two other articles which he had confessed unto John Exeter, notary, and Thomas Gerusten, bachelor of divinity, and others. Whereof the first article was this: That the said Nicholas Canon, being of perfect mind and remembrance, confessed that he doubted whether, in the sacrament of the altar, there were the very body of Christ or no.—This article he confessed before the commissary to be true. Item, That he, being of perfect mind and remembrance, believed that a man ought not to confess his sins to a priest.—This article he also confessed that he doubted upon. Now remaineth to declare what these doctors aforesaid concluded upon the articles; whose answer unto the same was this: First of all, as touching the first article, they said that the article in the same terms as it was propounded, is not simply a heresy, but an error. Item, As touching the second article, the doctors agree as in the first. Item, As touching the third article, they affirm that it is a heresy. Unto the fourth article, they answered as unto the first and second. Item, The doctors affirm the fifth article to be a heresy. Item, As touching the sixth article, the doctors conclude, that if the said Nicholas, being of perfect mind and remembrance, did doubt whether the sacrament of the altar were the very perfect body of Christ or no, then the article is simply a heresy. Whereupon the said commissary declared and pronounced the said Nicholas, upon the determination of the said doctors, to be a heretic; and thereupon forced the said Nicholas to abjure all the said articles. That done, he enjoined the said Nicholas penance for his offenses: three displings about the cloister of the cathedral church of Norwich, before a solemn procession, bare-headed and bare-foot, carrying a taper of half a pound in his hand, going after the manner aforesaid, like a mere penitentiary: which his penance the judge commanded should be respited until the coming of the bishop into his diocese, and that in the mean time he should be kept in prison; to the end that he should not infect the flock with his venom and poison of errors and heresies. Thus we have briefly discoursed unto you the great trouble and afflictions which happened in Norfolk and Suffolk by the space of those four years before mentioned, having drawn out briefly, for every year, certain notable examples sufficient for the declaration of all the rest, forasmuch as their opinions being nothing different, their penance and punishment did also nothing differ, otherwise than by those particular examples may be plainly seen. THOMAS BAGLEY, PRIEST And now to proceed as we have begun with our former stories, generally we find in Fabian’s Chronicles, that in the same year of our Lord, 1431, Thomas Bagley, a priest, vicar of Monenden beside Malden, being a valiant disciple and adherent of Wickliff, was condemned by the bishops of heresy at London, about the middle of Lent, and was degraded and burned in Smithfield. PAUL CRAW A BOHEMAIN, MARTYR. The same year also was Paul Craw, a Bohemian, taken at St. Andrew’s by the bishop Henry, and delivered over to the secular power to be burnt, for holding opinions contrary unto the church of Rome, touching the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, the worshipping of saints, auricular confession, with other of Wickliff’s opinions. THE STORY OF THOMAS OF RENNES, 518 A FRENCHMAN AND CARMELITE FRIAR, BURNT IN ITALY FOR THE PROFESSION OF CHRIST. We have declared before, how this cruel storm of persecution which first began with us in England, after it had long raged here against many good and godly men, brake out and passed into Bohemia; and after, within a short time, the fire of this persecution, increasing by little and little, invaded Scotland; and from thence now with greater force and violence this furious devouring flame hath entered Italy, and suffereth not any part of the world to be free from the murder and slaughter of most good and godly men. It happened about this time that one Thomas of Rennes, a friar of that sect which taketh its name of the Mount Carmel, by chance came with the Venetian ambassadors into Italy. This man, although he was of that sort and sect, which instead of Christians are called Carmelites, yet was he of a far other religion, and understood the word of God, judging that God ought to be worshipped neither in that mount, nor at Jerusalem only, but in spirit and truth. This man, being a true Carmelite, and favoring with his whole heart that new sweet must, 21 of Jesus Christ, with earnest study and desire seeking after a christian integrity of life, prepared himself first to go into Italy, trusting that he should find there, or else in no place, some, by whose good life and living he might be edified and instructed. For where ought more abundance of virtue and good living to be, than in that place which is counted to be the fort and fountain of all religion? And how could it otherwise be, but that where so great holiness is professed; whereupon all men’s eyes are bent as upon a stage; where St. Peter’s seat is, and is thought to be the ruler and governor of all the church, all things should flourish and abound worthy of so great expectation in that place? This holy man, having these things before his eyes, and considering the same with himself, forsook his own country and city, and went unto Rome, conceiving a firm and sure hope, that by the example of so many notable and worthy men, he should greatly profit in godliness and learning; but the success of the matter did utterly frustrate his hope, for all things were clean contrary. Whatsoever he saw, was nothing else but mere dissimulation and hypocrisy. Instead of gold, he found nothing but coals; and, to say the truth, he found nothing else, there, but gold and silver; for instead of heavenly gifts, there reigned amongst them the pomp and pride of the world; in place of godliness, riot; instead of learning and study, slothfulness and superstition. Tyranny and haughtiness of mind had possessed the place of apostolic simplicity; so that now there remained no more any place or liberty for a man to learn that which he knew not, or to teach that which he perfectly understood. Finally, all things were turned bottom upwards; all things happened unto him contrary to his expectation, wheresoever he went. But nothing so much offended this good man’s mind, as the intolerable ambition and pompous pride in them, whom example of humility should especially commend and praise to the whole world. And albeit that he saw here nothing which did accord and agree with the rule of the apostles, yet these things did so much pass all measure and patience, that he could by no means refrain his tongue, in so great abuse and corruption of the church, seeing such ambitious pride in their buildings, in their apparel, in their palaces, in their dainty fare, in their great trains of servants, in their horse and armor; and, finally, in all things pertaining unto them. Which things by how much they did vary from the prescribed rule of the gospel, so much the more was this good man forced to speak: albeit he did well understand how little he should prevail by speaking; for, if admonition would profit any thing at all, the books of Wickliff and divers others were not wanting. The famous testimonies of John Huss, and of Jerome of Prague, and their blood shed for the same, were yet present before their eyes; at whose most effectual exhortations, they were so little corrected and amended, that they seemed twice more cruel than they were before. Yet all this could not fear this good man Thomas, but that in so necessary and wholesome an office he would spend his life, if need should be. So by this means, he who came to be a scholar unto others, was now forced to be their teacher. And he, who determined to follow other men’s lives and manners, had now, contrariwise, set before them his life to be marked and followed: for he lived so amongst them, that his life might be a rule unto them all; and so taught, as he might also be their schoolmaster. For, even as Paul hath foreshowed unto such as desired to live godly in Christ, that they should suffer persecution, such like reward happened unto this man. He gave unto them the fruit of godliness, which they should follow: they again set upon his head the diadem of martyrdom. He showed them the way to salvation; and they, for the benefit of life, rewarded him with death: and whereas no rewards had been worthy for his great labors and travails, they, with most extreme ignominy, persecuted him even unto the fire. For when, by continual preaching, he had gotten great envy and hatred, the rulers began to consult together by what means they might circumvent this man’s life. Here they had recourse to their accustomed remedies; for it was a peculiar and continual custom amongst the prelates of the church, that if any man did displease them, or if his talk was not according to their mind, or by any means hurtful, or a hinderance to their lucre and gain, by and by they framed out articles of some heresy, which they charged him withal. And like as every living thing hath his peculiar and proper weapon to defend himself from harm, as nature hath armed the boar with his tusks, the hedgehog with his prickles, the lion is feared for his claws, the dog for his biting, the bull fighteth with his horns, neither doth the ass lack his hoofs to strike withal: even so this is the only armor of the bishops, to strangle a man with heresy, if he once go about to mutter against their will and ambition; which thing may be easily perceived and seen in this most holy man, besides a great number of others. Who, when now he began to wax grievous unto them, and could no longer be suffered, what did they? Straightways flee to their own policies, and, as they had done with Huss, and Jerome of Prague, even so went they about to practice against this man. They overwhelm him with suspicion, they seek to entangle him with questions, they examine him in judgment, they compile articles against him, and lay heresy to his charge; they condemn him as a heretic, and being so condemned, they destroy and kill him. This is their godliness; this is the peaceable order of those Carmelites, whose religion is to wear no sword nor shield, notwithstanding they bear in their hearts malice, rancor, vengeance, poison, craft, and deceit, sharper than any sword. With how great care and policy is it provided by law, that none of these clergymen should fight with sword in the streets? when in judgment; and accusations (where it is not lawful for a man to oppress his brother) there is no murderer, who hath more ready vengeance, or that doth more vilely esteem his brother’s soul than they. They shed no blood themselves; they strike not, nor kill; but they deliver them over unto others, to be slain. What difference is there, I pray you, but that they are the authors, and the others are but the ministers of the cruel fact? They kill no man as murderers do. How then? Although not after the same sort, yet they do it by another mean. The articles which they falsely gathered against this man, are affirmed by some to be these:- That the church lacketh reformation, and that it shall be punished and reformed. That infidels, Jews, Turks, and Moors, shall be converted unto Christ in the latter days. That abominations are used at Rome. That the unjust excommunication of the pope is not to be feared; and those who do not observe the same, do not sin or offend. But 23 yet there lacked a minister for these articles, albeit he could not long be wanting at Rome, where all things are to be sold, even men’s souls. For this office and ministry there was no man thought more meet than William of Rouen, cardinal of St. Martin’s in the Mount, vice-chancellor of the court of Rome. Eugene at that time was pope,, who had a little before succeeded pope Martin above-mentioned; before the which Eugene this godly Frenchman of Rennes was brought, and from thence sent to prison; and again, after his imprisonment, and divers and sundry grievous torments, he was brought before the, judges. The wolf sat in judgment; the lamb was accused. Why? because he had troubled the spring. But here need not many words. This good man Thomas, not being able to resist the malice of these mighty potentates, had offended enough, and was easily convicted and condemned to be burned: but in such sort, as first of all he should be deprived of all such degrees as he had taken to priesthood; for it is counted an unlawful thing, that a priest should be punished with profane punishment, when, notwithstanding, it is lawful enough for priests to put any layman to death, be he never so guiltless. How religiously and earnestly do they foresee that the majesty of the priestly dignity should not in any case be hurt? But how little care have they that their consciences be not hurt with false judgments, and oppressing the guiltless? Wherefore, before he should come unto punishment, this good man Thomas must be degraded. The order and manner of this popish degrading is partly touched upon in the story of William Taylor. After it had pleased the bishops to degrade this man from the degrees wherewith before they had consecrated him, and thought not that sufficient, by and by, afterwards, they deprived him of his life also, and burned him, four years after he came to Rome 24 A.D. 1436. These 25 degrees, because ye shall not be ignorant, are not such as may be counted among the differences whereby we are known from others; neither among the ‘propers’ which are always agreeable unto us, but among those common accidents, which we both may have, and may be taken away from us at the will and pleasure of the bishops. For thus we are taught by such as write of philosophy, that there is an apt and easy motion from the habit to deprivation, but, contrariwise, from privation unto the habit there is no return. Wherefore, gentle reader, it is not to be marvelled at, why that he, being now become a layman, should die, who lived, being a priest. But this thou mayest more marvel at, what folly and madness was in those men’s minds, who, through such acts and doings, would set themselves forth to be a mocking-stock unto all the whole world, and, not only to be derided of men, but to be abominable and accursed before God.* And thus, through the cruelty of these most tyrannous prelates, this blessed martyr died. Albeit it is not to be thought that he died, but made a loss of this body, for a greater gain of salvation before the just judgment of God. Neither is it to be doubted but that he liveth eternally in heaven, under the altar, with them whose blood the Lord will revenge, peradventure too soon for some of them whom the earth hath here so long holden unpunished. As this Thomas above mentioned suffered at Rome, so were divers others, in other places about Germany, executed near about the same time, after the burning of John Huss; as Henry Grundfelder, priest, of Ratisbon, A.D. 1420; also Henry Radtgeber, priest, in the same city, A.D. 1423; John Draendorfe, of noble birth, and a priest, was burned at Worms, A.D. 1424; Peter Thoraw, at Spires, A.D. 1426; Matthew Hager also suffered at Berlin in Germany, not long after. After the death of pope Martin, who reigned fourteen years, succeeded Eugene IV., about A.D. 1481. Of whom Antoninus thus writeth, that he was much given to wars, as his conflicts and fighting with the Romans may declare; also the battles between the Venetians and the Florentines. This pope began first to celebrate the council of Basil, which council Martin, his predecessor, had before intended, according to the institution of the council of Constance. Notwithstanding the said Eugene, perceiving afterwards this council of Basil not to favor him and his doings, and fearing some detriment to come to him by the same, afterwards labored, by all subtle practice, to dissolve and interrupt the said council, and from Basil to translate it first to Ferrara, then to Florence, more near to his own see of Rome. Concerning which council of Basil, forasmuch as we have begun here to make mention, it shall be no great digression out of the way to discourse something thereof (the Lord so permitting) more at large, so much as, for the principal matters thereof, shall seem sufficient or necessary to be known. THE ORDER AND MANNER OF THE COUNCIL OF BASIL, WITH A BRIEF RECAPITULATION OF THE PRINCIPAL MATTERS DECREED AND CONCLUDED THEREIN, With a full Discourse of the Disputation holden amongst the Bishops, upon Eight Conclusions proponed in the same Council; collected and translated out of the Two Books of Aeneas Sylvius, who was there present, and at that time a meetly good man, and afterward was made Cardinal and Pope, called Pins the Second. In the thirty-ninth session of the council of Constance, as is before mentioned, 29 it was decreed and provided concerning the order and times of such general councils as should hereafter follow. The first that should next ensue, to be kept the fifth year after the said council of Constance; the second to be holden the seventh year again after that; and so orderly all others to follow successively from ten years to ten years. Wherefore, according to this decree, followed a general council five years after the council of Constance, celebrated and holden at Sienna, under Pope Martin, A.D. 1423; but it soon broke up. After the which council the term of seven years being expired, another council was holden at Basil A.D. 1431; the which council is noted to have been the most troublesome, and to have endured longer than any other council before-time celebrated and holden in the church. This council continued almost the space of twelve years; wherein it was concluded, as before in the council of Constance, that the general councils were above the pope, and both of these two councils did attribute the chief authority in decreeing and determining unto a general council; which is the cause that the contrary part doth derogate so much from the authority of both these councils. When pope Martin V. had appointed Julian, cardinal-deacon of St. Angelo, his legate, to celebrate and hold a general council at Basil for the reformation of the church and rooting out of heresies, within short space after pope Martin died ( A.D. 1431); in whose seat Eugene IV. succeeded, who confirmed unto the said cardinal Julian the same authority which his predecessor before had given him. Unto this council of Basil, being begun, came the emperor Sigismund, who, during his lifetime, with his presence and authority did protect and defend the said synod. After the emperor’s death, pope Eugene, altering his former mind and purpose, would transfer the council 523 unto Bologna, and thereby hinder the success of the council of Basil. And first he held a contrary council at Ferrara, and afterward at Florence: for, after the death of the emperor Sigismund, there were no princes nor noblemen that had any care or regard of the council. Eugene, the pope, pretended causes as touching the: Greeks who should come unto the council, and the uniting of their church unto the West church, the which Greeks would in no wise pass the Alps: also as touching his own incommodity, that he could not come unto Basil, being so long a journey; and that all his men might have easy access unto Bologna; and that amongst the Germans (who in their own country are so intractable) nothing can be attempted for their reformation: whereupon he cited cardinal Julian and the fathers of the council unto Bologna, under great penalty. They again cited the pope, that either he should come himself unto the council or send ambassadors, under the like penalty. For this cause the ambassadors of Albert, king of the Romans, and of the other princes of Germany, with the orators of the council of Basil, and the cardinal Julian, assembled together, first at Nuremberg, to appease the dissension between the council and the pope; and when they could determine nothing there, they agreed to assemble again at Frankfort, on the calends of March; for it was thought that the electors of the empire might best assemble and meet in that place. In the mean time the emperor’s ambassadors, and the ambassadors of the electors, went unto Basil, and having conference with the ambassadors of the other princes who were there, and sending for the cardinal of St. Peter (an excellent man, who at that time tarried at Constance, to see the end and issue of things), they did earnestly exhort the fathers of the council, that they would embrace and receive the means of concord which they would offer. The request of the princes was, that the fathers would translate the council, and go unto another place; the which only thing pope Eugene seemed always to seek and desire, that thereby he might either divide the fathers of the council, or take away their liberty. Notwithstanding, this sacred synod thought good neither to deny the princes’ request, nor to grant that which pope Eugene required. During this doubt, the emperor’s ambassadors, the bishops of Passau and Augsburg, with John Eich, a famous lawyer, repaired to the emperor, but first (being much required and stirred thereunto) appointed noble and valiant baron called Conrad de Winsperg, by the royal commandment, to be protector and defender of the council and the Fathers. Whereby, as the enemies perceived the emperor’s mind to be alienate from the pope, so the fathers of the council understood his good-will towards them; forsomuch as he would not have sent them a protector, if he had not judged it a lawful council, neither again would he have judged it to be a council at Basil, if he had given credit to pope Eugene. But the assembly that should have been holden at Frankfort, by reason of a great pestilence which broke out there, was translated unto Mentz. The ambassadors of the princes also thought good to go thither, if they might find any means of unity, whereby;hey might unite and knit the pope again unto the council. The assembly was very famous, for there were present the archbishops of Mentz, Cologne, and Treyes, electors of the sacred empire, and the ambassadors of all the other electors. Notwithstanding, the archbishop of Cologne was the chief favorer of the council in this assembly, who, with all his labor and diligence, went about to bring the matter unto a good end. Rabanus, the archbishop of Treyes, showed himself somewhat more rough. The sacred synod also thought good to send thither their ambassadors, and appointed out the patriarch of Aquileia, the bishop of Vich, and the bishop of Argos; 30 John de Segovia, and Thomas de Corsellis, divines; with divers lawyers. There was no man there present, who would name himself the ambassador of Eugene; albeit there were many of his favorers and friends come thither, both from the council and also from Florence, who, albeit they had sworn to the contrary, yet favored they more Eugene than the council, whose sect William, a lawyer of Constance, afterwards called the grisled sect. 31 But the chief Hercules of all the Eugenians was Nicholas Cusanus, a man singularly well learned, and of great experience. After divers consultations had, the electors of the empire, and the ambassadors of the other princes of Germany, thought good to give out commandment throughout their whole nation and country, that the decrees of the council of Basil should be received and observed. Whilst these things were thus debated at Mentz, there sprang a certain very doubtful question amongst the divines who remained at Basil, whether or not Eugene might be called a heretic, who had so rebelliously contemned the commandments of the church. Hereupon they gathered themselves together, disputing among themselves by the space, of six days in the forenoons and afternoons, some affirming the proposition, and others holding the negative part. Upon this their disputation there arose three several opinions, some affirming that he was a heretic; other some not only a heretic, but also a relapse; the third sort would neither grant him to be heretic, nor a relapse. Amongst these divines, the chief and principal both in learning and authority were the bishop of Ebrun, 32 ambassador of the most noble king of Castile, and a certain Scottish abbot; 525 who, as two most valiant champions, subdued all their enemies, so that all the rest did either consent unto their arguments, or give place unto them; so that their determination took place, and Eugene was pronounced both a heretic and a relapse. Eight conclusions were there determined and allowed amongst the divines, which they called ‘verities,’ the copy whereof they did divulgate throughout all Christendom. When the ambassadors of the council were returned from Mentz, and certain report was made of the allowing of their decrees, the fathers of the council thought good to discuss the conclusions of the divines more at large. Whereupon, by the commandment of the deputations, all the masters and doctors of civil and canon law were called together, with the prelates, into the chapter-house of the great church, there openly to dispute and discuss Eugene’s heresy: which thing sore grieved the archbishop of Milan, fearing lest this disputation should work the deprivation of Eugene, the which, as he said, he had always opposed for fear of schism. Wherefore he ceased not, by all manner of ways, to labor to stop and trouble the matter, exhorting them that were absent by his letters, and encouraging those that were present by his words, to the defense of Eugene. But, at the last, there was a great assembly in the chapter-house, some coming thither to dispute, and other some to hear. This disputation continued six days, both forenoon and afternoon. Cardinal Louis, archbishop of Aries, as being neutral on the question, was appointed moderator and arbiter of the whole disputation; who, beside many other notable virtues, was both valiant and constant. Nicholas Amici, who was a proctor of the faith, 526 a famous man amongst the divines of Paris, was to demand of every man what his opinion was. John Dienlefist, public notary, was to write down every man’s sentence and judgment. The conclusions of the divines, which were the ground and foundation of their disputation, were these here following: THE CONCLUSIONS OF THE DISPUTATION. I. It is a verity of the catholic faith, that a sacred general council hath power over the pope, and any other person. II. The pope cannot by his own authority, either dissolve, translate, or prorogue a general council lawfully congregate, without the consent of the council itself: and this is of like verity. III. He who doth obstinately resist these verities, is to be counted a heretic. IV. Pope Eugene IV. resisted these verities, when at the first he attempted by the plenitude of his apostolic power to dissolve or to translate the council of Basil. V. Eugene, being admonished by the sacred council, did revoke the errors repugnant to these verities. VI. The dissolution or translation of the council, attempted the second time by Eugene, is against the aforesaid verities, and containeth an inexcusable error touching the faith. VII. Eugene, in going about to dissolve and translate the council again, is fallen into his before-revoked errors. VIII. Eugene, being warned by the synod that he should revoke the dissolution or translation the second time attempted, persevering in his rebellion after that his contumacy was declared, and erecting a council at Ferrara, showeth himself thereby obstinate. These were the conclusions which were read in the chapter-house before the fathers of the council: upon the which when they were desired to speak their minds, they almost all confirmed and allowed them. Notwithstanding, the archbishop of Palermo, commonly called Panormitane, 33 disputed much against them, as did the bishop of Burgos, and the king of Arragon’s almoner. Yet did they not gainsay the three first conclusions, but only those wherein pope Eugene was touched. This Panormitane, as he was subtle, so did he subtlely dispute against the last conclusions, endeavoring to show that Eugene was not relapsed; and had great contention with the bishop of Argos, John de Segovia, and Francis de Foix, divines. THE ARGUMENT OF PANORMITANE FOR THE POPE. He divided articles of faith into three sorts; those strictly such, as those in the Creed; general, as the declarations made by the church; most general of all, as in those things which arise of the premises: affirming that Eugene did by no means violate his faith in his first dissolution that he made, because it is not contained in the Creed, neither yet in the determinations of the church, that the pope cannot dissolve any councils; and that it seemed not unto him to rise of determinations before made, but rather of the decrees of the council of Constance. And further, that this, as a case omitted, is reserved for the pope to be discussed, forsomuch as in the chapter beginning ‘Frequens’ it appeareth that the place where the council should be kept ought to be chosen by the pope, the council allowing the same, and nothing at all is spoken on this matter. And if, peradventure, Eugene had offended in the first dissolution, notwithstanding, he ought to be holden excused, because he did it in conjunction with the council of cardinals, who represented the church of Rome; whose authority he affirmed to be such, that the judgment thereof should be preferred before all the world, a doctrine supported (he said) by a singular gloss. Neither was the sacred council found to have ever proceeded against Eugene as a heretic; and that was an evident sign that the council had not thought him to have swerved from the faith. Neither did it have any weight with him what was said concerning his adhesion, and his errors revoked; for that he himself had read the whole text of the adhesion, and that the pope did not therein revoke the dissolution as contrary unto the faith, but as breeding offense. Also that the last dissolution had nothing of the sort in it, forsomuch as that likewise was made with the advice of the cardinals, and for the uniting of the Greeks, and that he might not be compelled in a criminal cause to answer by his proctor, when he, being letted by sickness, could not come personally. And so, forasmuch as by the first dissolution Eugene had fallen into no error of faith, he could not be persuaded that he was to be called a relapse, forsomuch as neither in the first, neither yet in the second, dissolution did he violate the faith. This oration of Panormitane was by all praised rather than allowed. Notwithstanding this effect it wrought, that afterward the word “relapse” was taken out of the conclusions, and instead thereof the word “prolapse” put in. Neither durst Panormitane himself altogether excuse Eugene of heresy, but defended the first dissolution more than the second: yet departed he not without answer; for John de Segovia, an expert divine, rising up, answered him reverently and courteously, as was comely toward so great a prelate. THE ANSWER OF JOHN DE SEGOVIA. He said, he granted that which Panormitane had spoken touching the division of articles of faith into three sorts, and that it made for his purpose. For if those things are to be holden for articles of faith, said he, which may be gathered of the determinations of the church, it was manifest that the conclusions in question redounded and came of the determinations of the church, that is to say, of the council of Constance; for if therein the pope were made subject unto a general council, who is it that will say that the pope hath power over a council which is above him, and that Eugene ought to remain pope? because he could not dissolve a council which is above him, without the consent thereof: which article undoubtedly he hath violated and broken. And if any man will say that in the first dissolution this article was not violated because there was no declaration as yet made thereof, let him who so thinketh understand, that the bishop of Rome ought not only to know the plain and manifest, but also the secret and hidden things of the faith; for he, being the vicar of Christ, and the head of all others, hath to instruct and teach all men. But if so be he get out of that dilemma, he shall still be convicted, bemuse he persisted in the dissolution long after the declaration of the council was made, neither did consent unto the determination of the church; and therefore, if peradventure he did not err in the faith in dissolving of the council, yet did he err in persevering in the same, as manifestly appeareth by the saying of Clement, oftentimes alleged by Panormitane, wherein it is said, ‘That he who liveth rebelliously, and neglecteth to do good, is rather a member of the devil than of Christ, and rather an infidel than a believer;’ 34 so that Eugene, as disobeying the church, may not unreasonably be called an infidel. Neither is it true that the pope hath not offended in a matter of faith; forasmuch as, both in that answer which beginneth ‘Cogitanti,’ and also in the answer which beginneth ‘Sperant.’ made unto the pope’s ambassadors, these words are manifest: ‘This article concerneth faith, and we had rather die, than cowardly give place.’ By the which saying it was evident that the council sufficiently admonished the pope that he went against the faith; and therefore it seemed that afterward, when Eugene by the act of adhesion revoked the dissolution, he also revoked an error of faith contained in the same. The offense also, whereof mention was made, had arisen because of an error in faith: for some said that the pope is under the council, other some denied it, and this diversity of doctrine brought offense. Also in the pope’s adhesion it was expressly declared, that the pope did revoke the assertions made in his name against the authority of the council And albeit in such revocations the style and order of judgments were not observed, notwithstanding, it sufficed what was usually done when a council proceeded against a pope, in which case the only thing requisite was, that truth be observed: neither was a council subject to any positive law, that it must observe the judicial terms or style. Also he said that he utterly contemned that same singular gloss which did prefer the church of Rome before all the world: that it was well called singular, which decreed such foolish and fond things, and was unworthy to be followed of any man; and that he did much marvel at Panormitane, and other doctors of those days, who, whilst they went about to extol the authority of the glosses, do abase the same by adding their singularities thereto; for that gloss is singular, which is alone. But who would not more esteem a gloss which should throughout breathe the same doctrine and speak consistently with itself, than one which only in one place should assert any thing, which may seem without doubt to be an error. But as regarded the point of doctrine in this case, St. Jerome, a most sound doctor, was contrary to this gloss, who ‘doubteth nothing at all, but that the world, as touching authority, is greater than the City itself,’ that is to say, Rome. Segovius could not finish this his oration without interruption; for Panormitane oftentimes interrupting him, went about to confute now this assertion, and now that. Whereupon the bishop of Argos rising up, a man not only eloquent, but also of a stout courage, troubled Panormitane in his reasons and arguments, and put him from his purpose. In truth they proceeded so far, that they passed the bounds of disputation, and did not abstain from opprobrious taunts. The bishop of Argos indeed afterward begged pardon, though perhaps the least in error of the two; but inferiors must succumb. The bishop of Argos having chanced to say, that the bishop of Rome was the servant of the church, Panormitane could not suffer that; insomuch that he so forgot himself that day, and his knowledge (which otherwise was very great) did so fail him, that he was not ashamed to affirm, that the pope was lord of the church. Whom Segovius answered thus: Mark, said he, O Panormitane, what thou sayest; for that is the most honorable title of the bishop of Rome, whereby he calleth himself ‘the servant of the servants of God.’ Which title is gathered from what Christ said unto his disciples, when they demanded of him which of them was the greatest: you know he answered them, ‘The princes of the nations have lordship over them; but you shall not do so,’ etc.; wherein he did utterly prohibit lordship. And Peter, who was the first vicar of Christ, said: ‘Feed the flock of God which is committed unto you, providing for them not by compulsion, but willingly:’ and immediately after he saith, ‘not as lords over the clergy.’ But if Christ the Son of God came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, how then can his vicar have any lordship, or be called ‘lord,’ as you, Panormitane, insist? forsomuch ‘as the disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord.’ And the Lord himself saith; ‘Be ye not called masters, forsomuch as one is your master, that is Christ; and he who is the greatest among you, shall be your servant.’ Panormitane being somewhat disquieted with this answer, the council brake up and departed. The next day there was a general congregation, and they returned all again unto the chapter-house after dinner, where the archbishop of Lyons, his king’s orator, being required to speak his mind, after he had by divers and sundry reasons proved Eugene to be a heretic, he bitterly complained, strongly censuring the negligence and weakness of those that had preferred such a man unto the papacy, and so moved all their hearts who were present, that they all, as well as himself, did bewail the calamities of the universal church. Then the bishop of Burgos, one of the orators for Spain, divided the conclusions into two parts, calling some general, and other some personal, and disputed very excellently as touching the three first conclusions; affirming, that he did not doubt their truth, save that the addition, which made mention of the faith, seemed to him to be doubtful. But upon this point he dwelt much, namely, that the council was above the pope; which, after he had sufficiently proved both by divine and human law, he taught also by natural reason, alleging Aristotle for witness, who saith that in every well ordered kingdom it should especially be provided, that the whole realm should be of more power than the king; and that if it happened contrary, it were not to be called a kingdom, but a tyranny. So likewise did he think of the church, that it ought to be of more power than the prince thereof, that is to say, the pope. Which his oration he uttered so eloquently and pleasantly, so learnedly and truly, that all men hung on his lips, and (what is not very usual) desired rather to have him continue his oration, than to make an end thereof. But when he entered into the other conclusions and tried to impugn them, he seemed to have lost himself, and to be no more the same man that he was; for neither was there the same eloquence in his words, nor weight in argument, nor cheerfulness of countenance; so that if he could have seen himself, he would peradventure greatly have marvelled at himself. Every man before might well perceive a certain power and force of truth,35 which ministered copy 36 of matter and words unto him, so long as he spake in her defense: but when he began once to speak against her, she took away even his natural power of speech from him. 37 Notwithstanding, Panormitane and the bishop of Burgos showed this example of modesty, that albeit they would not confess or grant the last conclusions to be verities of faith, yet they would not that any man should follow or lean unto their opinion, seeing they were but mean divines; but rather unto the opinions of the divines. But the king of Arragon’s almoner, being a subtle and crafty man, did not directly dispute upon the conclusions, but picking out here and there certain arguments, sought to perplex the council. Against these the Scottish abbot, a man of an excellent wit, disputed very much; also Thomas de Corsellis, a famous divine, than whom no one more stoutly defended the decrees of the sacred council, through a certain extreme bashfuhless always keeping his eyes on the ground, did largely and luminously dispute in defense of the conclusions. THE CHIEF ARGUMENTS OF THE DISPUTATION, AS SUMMED UP BY AENEAS SYLVIUS. But now, to avoid tediousness, I will only proceed to declare the arguments whereby the conclusions were finally confirmed, not referring at all to the five last conclusions, which concern the person of Eugene, but only to the three first. According, then, to probable arguments which I gathered out of the disputation of the fathers—In the first conclusion is the greatest force, and it is the first; to be discussed: touching which, two things are to be inquired and examined; the one, whether a general council have authority over the pope, the other, whether the catholic faith command it to be believed. As touching that the pope is subject to a general council, it is excellently well proved, by the reason before alleged by the bishop of Burgos For the pope is in the church, as a king in his kingdom; and for a king to be of more authority than Ins kingdom, it; were too absurd: ergo, neither ought the pope to be above the church. For like as oftentimes kings, who do wickedly govern the commonwealth, and exercise cruelty, are deprived of their kingdoms; even so it is not to be doubted, but that the bishops of Rome may be deposed by the church, that is to say, by the general councils. Neither do I herein allow those who attribute such ample and large authority unto kings, that they will not have them bound under any laws; for such as so do say, be but flatterers, who do talk otherwise than they think. For albeit that they do say, that the moderation of the law is alway in the prince’s power; 38 that do I thus understand, that when reason shall persuade, he ought to digress from the rigor of the law. For he is called a king, who careth and provideth for the commonwealth, taketh pleasure in the commodity and profit of his subjects, and in all his doings hath respect to the commodity of those over whom he ruleth; which if he do not, he is not to be counted a king, but a tyrant, whose property it is, only to seek his own profit; for in this point a king differeth from a tyrant, that the one seeketh the commodity and profit of those whom he ruleth, and the other only his own; the which to make more manifest, the cause is also to be alleged wherefore kings were ordained. At the beginning (as Cicero in his Offices saith) it is certain, that there was a certain time when the people lived without kings. But afterwards, when lands and possessions began to be divided according to the custom of every nation, then were kings ordained for no other cause, but only to exercise justice. For when, at the beginning, the common people were oppressed by rich and mighty men, they ran by-and-by to some good and virtuous man, who should defend the poor from injury, and ordain laws whereby the rich and poor might dwell together. But when as yet, under the rule of kings, the poor were oftentimes oppressed, laws were ordained and instituted, which should judge neither for hatred nor favor, and give like ear unto the poor as unto the rich. Whereby we do understand and know, not only the people, but also the king to be subject to the laws. And if we do see a king to contemn and despise the laws, violently rob and spoil his subjects, defile virgins, dishonor matrons, and do all things licentiously and temerariously; do not the nobles of the kingdom assemble together, deposing him from his kingdom, and set up another in his place, who shall swear to rule and govern uprightly, and be obedient unto the laws? Verily, as reason doth persuade, even so doth the use thereof also teach us. It seemeth also agreeable unto reason, that the same should be done in the church, that is to say, in the council, which is done in any kingdom. And so is this sufficiently apparent, which we have before said, that the pope is subject unto the council. But now, to pass unto the arguments of divinity, the foundation of the matter which we do treat upon, is the words of our Savior Jesus Christ in divers places, but especially where he speaketh unto Peter: ‘Tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram aedificabo ecclesiam meam, et portae inferi non praevalebunt adversus eam;’ that is, ‘Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.’ Upon which words it seemeth good to begin this disputation, forsomuch as some were wont to allege these words, to extol the authority of the bishop of Rome. But (as it shall by-and-by appear) the words of Christ had another sense and meaning than divers of them do think.; for he saith, ‘And the gates of hell shall not prevail against, it’. Verily this is a great promise, and these words of the Lord are of great importance. For what greater word could there have been spoken, than that the gates of hell should not prevail against the church? These gates of hell, as St. Jerome saith, do signify sins. Wherefore, if sins cannot prevail against the church, neither can any malign spirits prevail against the same, which have no power at all over mankind, but only through sin. And for that cause, whereas it is said in Job, that there is no power upon the earth that may be compared unto the power of the malign spirit; thereby it followeth, that the power of the church is above all other power. We may, also, upon the same saying, reason after another sort: forsomuch as the gates of hell, that is to say, sins, cannot prevail against the church, the church thereby is declared to be without sin; the which cannot be spoken of the pope, who is a mortal man, forsomuch as it is written, ‘Seven times in the day the just man doth offend.’ If the church be without spot because it cannot be defiled with sin, who is it that will prefer a sinful man before an undefiled church? Neither let us give ear unto those who will not refer these words of Christ unto the church, where he saith, ‘Oravi pro to Petre, ut non deficiat fides tua;’ that is to say, ‘Peter! I have prayed for thee, that thy faith should not fail thee.’ For, as St. Augustine saith in the exposition of the Psalms: ‘Certain things are spoken as though they seemed properly to pertain unto the apostle Peter, notwithstanding they have no evident sense, but when they are referred unto the church, the person whereof he is understood figuratively to represent’. Whereupon in another place, in the questions of the New and Old Testament, upon the words, ‘Rogavi pro to Petre;’ ‘I have prayed for thee, Peter!’ what is doubted? Did he pray for Peter, and did he not pray for James and John, besides the rest? It is manifest, that under the name of Peter all others are contained. For in another place of St. John, he saith: ‘I pray for them whom thou hast given me, and I will that wheresoever I am, they shall be also with me.’ Whereupon we do oftentimes by the name of Peter understand the church, which we do nothing at all doubt to be done in this place; otherwise the truth could not consist, forsomuch as within a while after, the faith of Peter failed for a time, by the denial of Christ; but the faith of the church, whose person Peter did represent, did always persevere inviolate. As touching the bishops of Rome, if time would suffer us, we could rehearse many examples, how that they either have been heretics, or replenished with other vices. Neither are we ignorant, how Marcellinus, at the emperor’s commandment, did sacrifice unto idols, and that another (which is more horrible) did attain unto the papacy by a devilish fraud and deceit. 39 Notwithstanding, the testimony of Paul to the Hebrews shall suffice us at this time, who saith that ‘every bishop is compassed in with infirmity,’ that is to say, with wickedness and sin. Also the testimonies of Christ himself do approve that the church remaineth always without sin; for in Matthew he saith, ‘I am with you even unto the end of the world.’ Which words were not only spoken to the apostles (for they continued not unto the end of the world), but also unto their successors; neither would Christ then signify that he was God, dispersed throughout all the world, as he is also perceived to be amongst sinners, but would declare a certain gift of grace through his assistance, whereby he would preserve the holy church, consisting amongst his apostles and their successors, always immaculate and undefiled. And again in another place, ‘I,’ saith he, ‘will pray, and he shall give you another comforter, that he may remain with you for ever, even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because the world seeth him not, neither knoweth him; but you shall know him, because he shall remain with you.’ Which words being spoken unto the disciples of Jesus, are also understood to be spoken unto their successors, and so consequently unto the church. And if the Spirit of truth be continually in the church, no man can deny but that the church ought to continue undefiled. By the same authority also that Christ is called the spouse of the church, who seeth not but that the church is undefiled? ‘For the husband and the wife,’ as the apostle saith, ‘are two in one flesh,’ and, as he doth also add, ‘no man hateth his own flesh.’ Thereby it cometh to pass, that Christ cannot hate the church, forsomuch as she is his spouse, and one flesh with him, and no man can hate himself; ergo, the church doth not sin; for if it did sin, it should be hated, for sinners the Lord doth hate. Which authorities being gathered together, we ought with the apostle to confess that the church of God hath neither spot nor wrinkle. 40 Also writing unto Timothy, he affirmeth the church to be the pillar and foundation of the truth; whereupon, in this song of the spouse, it is said: ‘My friend, thou art altogether fair and beautiful, neither is there any spot in thee.’ These words, peradventure, may abash some, that I do go about to prove the church to be without sin. “For as the church doth contain all men who are called Christians, who also do agree and come together in one belief of faith, and participation of the sacraments, I do fear lest some men will think, that I do. affirm all men to be without sin; which is so far from my meaning, that I do verily think the contrary to be most true. For I suppose, that there is no man in the church, being clothed in this mortal flesh, without sin. Neither do these things vary or dissent among themselves; for the church hath this gift, that albeit every part and member thereof may sin, yet the whole body cannot sin. For there be always good men in the church, who, albeit they be subject unto human fragility, notwithstanding they have so perfect a gift of sincere and pure virtue, that, subduing all carnal desires and affections, they keep themselves a pleasant and acceptable sacrifice unto God. Neither do I consent or agree unto the opinion of divers, who affirm that the Virgin Mary only persevered in faith at the Lord’s passion. Whereupon divers have not been ashamed to say, that the faith was so debilitated and weakened, that it seemed to be returned to one only old woman; whose opinion, or rather madness, St. Paul seemeth openly to reject, writing thus unto the Romans: ‘Do ye not know,’ saith he, ‘what the Scripture writeth of Elias, how incessantly he called upon God against the children of Israel, saying, O Lord, they have slain thy prophets, and digged down thine altars, and I alone am left, and they seek after my soul: but what answer received he of God? I have left unto myself yet seven thousand men, which have not bowed their knees unto Baal.’ What other thing doth this answer of God declare, than that it is a foolish opinion of those who think the church of God to be brought unto so small a number? We ought to believe the words of Christ, which are altogether repugnant unto those men, who affirm, that the Virgin only did persevere in faith. For Jesus said unto his Father: ‘O holy Father! save them in thy name whom thou hast given me, that they may be one as we are one. When I was with them, I kept them in thy name: I have kept them that thou gavest unto me, and none of them perished, but only the son of perdition:’ And, ‘I do not desire that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest preserve them from evil.’ Behold, Christ prayeth that his disciples should not fall, but should be preserved from evil, although they were still living in the world; and he, so praying, without doubt is heard; for he saith in another place: ‘I know that thou hearest me.’ But how is he heard, if all those for whom he prayeth, swerved at the time of his passion? As for example, by what means did Christ, hanging upon the Cross, commend his dearly beloved mother unto John, if so be he were either then swerved, or should by-and-by after have swerved from the faith? Moreover, did not the centurion by-andby cry out and say: ‘Truly this is the Son of God?’ The Jews also, who at that time were far distant from Jerusalem, might both be called faithful, and also be saved by their faith; seeing that (as the apostle saith) men are bound unto the gospel (even when they swerve from it), after it is once known and revealed unto them. But let us leave these men, and speak of that which is more likely, and let us judge that there hath been, and is, a great number of good men in the church; and by them, as by the more worthy part, let us name the church holy and immaculate, which doth comprehend as well the evil as the good. For the church is compared unto a net which is cast into the sea, and gathereth together all kind of fishes [Matthew 20]. And again, it is compared unto a king, which made a marriage for his son, and sent forth his servants to call those which were bidden unto the wedding, and they gathered together good and evil, as many as they could find. Wherefore their opinion is erroneous, who, affirm, that only good men be comprehended in the church; which, if it were true, it would confound all things, neither could we understand or know where the church were. But forsomuch as the Scripture saith: ‘No man knoweth whether he be worthy of love or hatred,’ 42 their opinion is more to be allowed and truer, who include all the faithful in the church; of whom, although a great part be given to voluptuousness and avarice, yet some, notwithstanding, are clean from deadly sin; which part, as it is the most worthy, it giveth the name unto the church, to be called most holy; which is so often done, that we are commanded to sing in our creed, ‘unam sanctam, catholicam, et apostolicam ecclesiam,’ that is to say, ‘one holy catholic and apostolic church;’ which article the synod of Constantinople added unto the rest. Wherefore (to return to our former purpose) if the church be holy, it is also without sin. This word ‘sanctum,’ (as Macrobius, alleging Trebatius, affirmeth), sometimes signifieth ‘holy,’ and sometimes religious, and sometimes clean and uncorrupt. And after the same manner, we call the church holy, which the apostle Peter calleth immaculate, as we read in the famous epistle of Clement. To this end also tendeth that which is spoken by St. Paul, that ‘Christ is the Head of the church;’ for if the whole church should sin, she should not agree with her Head, Christ, who is in no point defiled. This also Christ himself would signify unto us in Matthew, when he commendeth the house which was builded upon the strong rock, against which, neither the winds, neither the storms, could prevail ‘The house of God,’ saith the apostle, ‘which is the church, is builded upon the strong Rock,’ ‘which Rock,’ as the apostle declareth, ‘is Christ.’ Who then is so unshamefaced, that he will affirm the church, which is founded upon Christ, to be subject to sin? and will not rather cry out with the prophet and say, ‘Domine dilexi decorem domus tuae; that is to say, ‘O Lord. I have loved the beauty of thy house.’ Whereupon wrote John Chrysostome this golden sentence; ‘The church never ceaseth to be assaulted, never ceaseth to be laid in wait for; but in the name of Christ it hath always the upper hand, and overcometh. And albeit others do lie in wait for it, or that the floods do beat against it, yet the foundation which is laid upon the Rock is not shaken.’ St. Hilary also saith: ‘That it is the property of the church to vanquish when it is hurt, to understand When it is reproved, to be in safety when it is forsaken, and to obtain victory when it seemeth almost overcome.’ Thus, by many reasons and testimonies it is proved that the church doth not err; which is not spoken or affirmed of the bishops of Rome, so that this reason doth make the pope subject unto the church; for it is convenient, that the less perfect be subject unto the more perfect. There be also many other testimonies and reasons, whereof we will now speak more at large. If authority be sought for, St. Jerome saith (for I willingly occupy myself in his sentences, as in a most fertile field), ‘the world is greater than a city.’ What then, I pray you, Jerome! is the pope mighty because he is the head of the church of Rome? His authority is great; notwithstanding the universal church is greater, which doth not only comprehend one city, but also the whole world. Hereupon it followeth, that if the church be the mother of all the faithful, then she hath the bishop of Rome for her son; otherwise, as St. Augustine saith, ‘he can never have God for his Father, who will not acknowledge the church for his mother;’ which thing Anacletus understanding, called the universal church his mother, as the writers of the canons do know. And Calixtus saith, ‘As a Son he came to do the will of his Father; so we do the will of our mother, which is the church.’ Whereby it appeareth, that by how much the son is inferior to the mother, by so much the church is superior, or above, the bishop of Rome. Also we have said before, that the church was the spouse of Christ, and the pope we know to be a vicar; but no man doth so ordain a vicar, that he maketh his spouse subject unto him, but that the spouse is always thought to be of more authority than the vicar; forsomuch as she is one body with her husband, but the vicar is not so. Neither will I here pass over the words of St. Paul unto the Romans: ‘Let every soul,’ saith he, ‘be subject unto the higher powers.’ Neither doth he herein except the pope. For albeit that he be above all other men, yet it seemeth necessary that he should be subject to the church. Neither let him think himself hereby exempt, because it was said unto Peter by Christ: ‘Whatsoever thou bindest,’ etc. In this place, as we will hereafter declare, he represented the person of the church, for we find it spoken afterwards unto him: ‘Quodcunque ligaveritis super terrain, ligature erit in coelis;’ that is, ‘Whatsoever ye shall bind upon earth, shall be also bound in heaven.’ And furthermore, if all power be given of Christ, as the apostle writeth unto the Corinthians, it is given for the edifying of the church, and not for the destruction thereof; why then may not the church correct the pope, if he abuse the keys, and bring all things to ruin? Add hereunto also another argument. A man in this life is less than the angels, for we read in Matthew of John Baptist that he which is least in thekingdom of heaven is greater than he. Notwithstanding Christ saith, in another place, that amongst the children of women, there was not a greater than John Baptist. But to proceed. Men are forced, by the example of Zacharias, to give credit unto angels, lest, through their misbelief, they be stricken blind as he was. What more? the bishop of Rome is a man: ergo, he is less than the angels, and is bound to give credit to the angels. But the angels learn of the church, and do reverently accord unto her doctrine, as the apostle writeth unto the Ephesians; ergo, the pope is bound to do the same, who is less than the angels, and less than the church; whose authority is such, that worthily it is compared by St Augustine unto the sun, that like as the sun, by his light doth surmount all other lights, so the church is above all other authority and power. Whereupon St. Augustine writeth thus: ‘I would not believe the gospel,’ saith he, ‘if the authority of the church did not move me thereunto:’ which is not in any place found to be spoken of the bishop of Rome, who, representing the church, and being minister thereof, is not to be thought greater or equal to his Lord and Master. Notwithstanding, the words of our Savior Christ do especially prove the bishop of Rome to be subject to the church; as we will hereafter declare. For he, sending Peter to preach unto the church, said, ‘Go, and say unto the church.’ To the confirmation of whose authority these words do also pertain; ‘He that heareth you, heareth me;’ which words are not only spoken unto the apostles, but also unto their successors, and unto the whole church. Whereupon it followeth, that if the pope do not hearken and give ear unto the church, he doth not give ear unto Christ, and consequently he is to be counted as an ethnic and publican. For, as St. Augustine affirmeth, when the church doth excommunicate, he who is so excommunicated is bound in heaven, and when the church looseth, he is loosed. Likewise, if he be a heretic who taketh away the supremacy of the church of Rome, as the decrees of the council of Constance do determine, how much more is he to be counted a heretic, who taketh away the authority from the universal church, wherein the church of Rome and all others are contained? 43 Wherefore, it is now evident, that it is the opinion of all men before our days (if it may be called an opinion, which is confirmed by grave authors), that the pope is subject unto the universal church. But this is called into question, whether he ought also to be judged of a general council. For there are some, who (whether it be for desire of vain glory, or that, through their flattery, they look for some great reward) have begun to teach new and strange doctrines, and to exempt the bishop of Rome from the jurisdiction of a general council. Ambition hath blinded them, whereof not only this present schism, but also all other schisms, even unto this day, have had their original. For as in times past, the greedy desire and ambition of the papacy brought in that pestiferous beast, which through Arius then first crept out of hell into the church; even so they do especially nourish and maintain this present heresy who are not ashamed to beg. 44 Of which number, some cry out and say, the works of the subjects ought to be judged by the pope, but the pope to be reserved only unto the judgment of God. Others say, that no man ought to judge the high and principal seat, and that it can be judged neither by the emperor, nor by the clergy, nor by any king or people. Others affirm, that the Lord hath reserved to himself the deposition of the chief bishop. Others are not ashamed to affirm, that the bishop of Rome, although he carry souls in never so great number unto hell, yet he is not subject to any correction or rebuke. And because these their words are easily resolved, they run straightways unto the gospel, and interpret the words of Christ, not according to the sense and meaning of the Holy Ghost, but according to their own will and disposition. They do greatly esteem and regard this which was spoken unto Peter, ‘Tu vocaberis Cephas;’ that is, ‘Thou shalt be called Cephas:’ by which word they make him the head of the church. Also, ‘I will give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind upon the earth,’ etc. ‘I have prayed for thee, Peter, that thy faith should not fail.’ And again, ‘Feed my sheep;’ ‘Cast thy net into the deep;’ ‘Be not afraid, for from henceforth thou shalt be a fisher of men:’ Also that Christ commanded Peter, as the prince of the apostles, to pay toll for them both; and that Peter drew the net unto the land full of great fishes; and that only Peter drew his sword for the defense of Christ. All which places these men do greatly extol, altogether neglecting the expositions of the fathers, which if (as reason were) they would consider, they should manifestly perceive by the authorities aforesaid, that the pope is not above them, when they are gathered together in council, but when they are separated and divided. But these things being passed over, forsomuch as answer shall appear by that which hereafter shall follow, we will now declare what was reasoned of by the learned men upon this question. But first we would have it known, that all men who are of any name or estimation, do agree that the pope is subject to a council; and, for the proof thereof, they repeat, in a manner,, all those things which were before spoken of the church; for they suppose all that which is spoken of the church, to serve for a general council. And first of all they allege this saying of the gospel, ‘Dic ecclesiae,’ ‘Tell it unto the church,’ in which place it is convenient to understand, that Christ spake unto Peter, instructing him what he should do as touching the correction of his brother. He saith, ‘If thy brother offend or sin against thee, rebuke him between thee and him alone. If he give ear unto thee, thou hast won thy brother; but if he do not give ear unto thee, take with thee one or two, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses all truth may stand: if then he will not give ear unto thee, ‘Dic ecclesiae,’ ‘Tell it unto the church.’ What shall we understand by the church in that place? Shall we say that it is the multitude of the faithful, dispersed throughout the whole world? ‘My yoke is pleasant,’ saith the Lord, ‘and my burden is light.’ But how is it light, if Christ command us to do that which is impossible to be done? for how could Peter speak unto the church which was dispersed, or seek out every Christian scattered in every town or city? But the meaning of these words is far otherwise, and they must be otherwise interpreted; for which cause, it is necessary that we remember the double person which Peter represented, as the person of the chief Pontiff, and a private man. The sense and meaning of his words are so evident and plain of themselves, that they need no supplement or alteration. We must first mark and see what this word ‘ecclesia’ signifieth, which we do find to be but only twice spoken of by Christ; once in this place, and again when he said unto Peter, ‘Tu es Petrus, et super hanc petram aedificabo ecclesiam meam;’ that is, ‘Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church.’ Wherefore the church signifieth the convocation or congregation of the multitude. ‘Dic ecclesiae, ‘Tell it unto the church;’ that is to say, ‘Tell it unto the congregation of the faithful;’ which, forsomuch as they are not accustomed to come together but in a general council, this interpretation shall seem very good: ‘Dic ecclesiae,’ ‘Tell it unto the church,’ that is to say, ‘Dic generali concilio,’ ‘Tell it unto a general council.’ In this case I would gladly hear if there be any man who doth think these words to Be more properly expressed of any prelate, than of a council, when they must put one man for the multitude; which if it be admitted in the Scriptures, we shall from henceforth find no firm or stable thing therein? But if any man do marvel at our interpretation, let him search the old writers, and he shall find that this is no new or strange interpretation, but the interpretation of the holy fathers and old doctors, who have first illuminated and given light unto the church; as pope Gregory witnesseth (a man worthy of remembrance, both for the holiness of his life, and his singular learning), whose words to the bishop of Constantinople (as found in his Register) are these: ‘And we,’ saith he, ‘against whom so great an offense is committed through temerarious boldness, do observe and keep that which, the Truth doth command, us, saying, Si peccaverit in to frater; that is, If thy brother do offend against thee, etc.’ And afterwards he addeth moreover, ‘If my rebukes and corrections be despised, it remaineth that I do seek help of the church.’ Which words do manifestly take the term church for a general council. Neither did Gregory say, that he would seek help of the church that is dispersed abroad in every place, but of that which is gathered together, that is to say, a general council; for that which is dispersed abroad cannot be used, except it be gathered together. Also pope Nicholas, reproving Lotharius the king for advoutry, said, ‘If thou dost not amend the same, take heed that we tell it not unto the holy church.’ In which saying pope Nicholas did not say, that he would go throughout the world to certify every one, man by man; but that he would call the church together, that is to say, a general council, and there would publish and declare the offense of Lotharius, that he who had contemned the pope’s commandments, should fear the reverence of the general council. I could recite an infinite number of witnesses for the same purpose, who all tend unto one end, but this one testimony of the council of Constance shall suffice for them all; *for in that place where sentence is given against Peter de Luna, these words are mentioned: ‘Eaque in generali concilio locum habere dicuntur;’ that is to say, ‘These things are said to have place in the general council’: by which words we understand,* that not only the pope, in the correction of his brother, is remitted unto the council, when he cannot correct him of himself; but also when any thing is done as touching the correction of the pope himself, the matter ought to be referred to the council. Whereby our interpretation appeareth to be most true, which doth expound the church to us of a general council. Hereupon, in the Acts of the Apostles, the congregations which were then holden were called the church. Also in the council of Nice, and in other councils, when any man should be excommunicated, always, in a manner, this sentence was adjoined: ‘Hunc excommunicat catholica et apostolica ecclesia;’ that is, ‘The catholic and apostolic church doth excommunicate this man.’ And hereupon that title is given unto the councils, whereby we do say, that a general council doth represent the universal church. Wherefore the laws and decrees of the council are called the laws of the church, for that the church doth not set forth any laws in any other place, but in a general council; except we will call the pope’s constitutions the laws of the church, which cannot be properly said but of a council: whereas, albeit all those who are of the church do not assemble and come together, yet the most part of them are accustomed to be there present, and in those who come, the whole power of the church doth consist. Whereupon we read in the Acts of the Apostles, ‘It pleased the apostles and elders with all the church.’ For albeit that all the faithful were not there present (because a great number of them remained at Antioch), yet, notwithstanding, it was called the whole church, because the whole power of the church consisted in the council. Thus, for this present, it is sufficient that we understand by the church, a general council. And now to return unto our purpose, let us hear what our Savior saith unto Peter; ‘If thy brother do offend against thee;’ unto this text following, ‘Tell it unto the church;’ and let us understand a council by the church. Which is greater in this place, he who is sent unto the council, or the council whereunto Peter is sent? The Verity doth remit the bishop of Rome unto a general council. And why so? verily because the bishop of Rome should not disdain to acknowledge some power in earth to be above him, which he should consult withal in matters of importance, and agree unto the determinations thereof. Whereupon Peter is also called by another name, ‘Simon;’ which, as Rabanus in his homilies writeth, is interpreted in the Hebrew tongue, ‘obedient:’ that all men might understand obedience to be necessary even in the bishop of Rome. The authority of the council of Constance might suffice us in this point; but we think it good to stay a little upon this matter, and to leave no place open for our adversaries; who, while they go about to maintain the unsatiable wilfullness of one man, preferring a private wealth before a common commodity, it is incredible how great errors they do stir up. Against which, besides many others, Zacharias bishop of Chalcedon, a man both famous and eloquent, did earnestly strive; who, in the great and sacred synod of Chalcedon, when the sentence of the bishop of Rome was objected unto him, that the canon of pope Nicholas and other patriarchs was above the council, he replied against it. And Zosimus, the pope, saith thus, as touching the decrees of a general council: ‘The authority of this see cannot make or alter any thing contrary to the decrees of the fathers.” Neither doth he here speak of the decrees of the fathers who are dispersed abroad in cities or wildernesses, for they do not bind the Pope; but of those which are made and published by the fathers in a general council: for the more manifest declaration whereof, the words of pope Leo, the most eloquent of all the bishops of Rome, are here to be annexed, who wrote unto Anatholius, that the decrees of the council of Nice were in no part to be violate and broken: thereby (as it were) excluding himself and the chief patriarch. The authority also of Damasus upon this sentence is more manifest, writing unto Aurelius the archbishop, as Isidorus declareth in the Book of Councils; whose worthy saying, as touching the authority of the synod, is this: ‘They who are not compelled of necessity, but of their own will either frowardly do any thing, or presume to do any thing, or willingly consent unto those who would do any thing, contrary and against the sacred canons, they are worthily thought and judged to blaspheme the Holy Ghost.’ Of the which blasphemy whether Gabriel, who calleth himself Eugene, be presently partaker, let them judge, who have heard him say, ‘That, it is so far from his office and duty to obey general councils, that he doth then best merit and deserve, when he contemneth the decrees of the council.’ Damasus addeth yet moreover, ‘For this purpose,’ saith he, ‘the ride of the sacred canons, which are consecrated by the Spirit of God and the reverence of the whole world, is faithfully to be known and understand of us, and diligently looked upon, that by no means, without a necessity which cannot be eschewed (which God forbid), we do transgress the decrees of the holy fathers.’ Notwithstanding, we daily see in all the pope’s bulls and letters these words, ‘Non obstante,’ that is to say, ‘notwithstanding;’ which no other necessity hath brought in, than only insatiable desire of gathering of money. But let them take heed to these things, who be the authors thereof. But now, to return again unto Damasus; mention is made in the epistles of Ambrose, archbishop of Milan, of a certain epistle, which is said to be written by Damasus unto the judges deputed by the council of Capua, where he declareth that it is not his office to meddle with any matter wherein a council had been beforehand. By which saying he doth manifestly reprove all those who affirm and say, that the bishop of Rome is above the council: the which if it were true, Damasus might have taken into his hands the cause of Bonosius, the bishop, to determine, which was before begun by the council; but forsomuch as the council is above the pope, Damasus knew himself to be prohibited. Whereupon Hilary also, acknowledging a synod to be above him, would have his decrees confirmed by the council. Also the famous doctor, St. Augustine, in his epistle which he did write unto Glorius, and Eleusius, and Felix the grammarian, declareth the case. Cecilianus, the bishop, was accused by Donatus, with others. Melchiades, the pope, with certain other bishops, absolved Cecilian, and confirmed him in his bishopric. They, being moved with those doings, made a schism in the parts of Africa; St. Augustine reproveth them, who having another remedy against the sentence of the pope, did raise a schism, and doth inveigh against them in this manner: ‘Behold, let us think those bishops who gave judgment at Rome, not to have been good judges: there remained yet the judgment of the universal church, where, the cause might, have been pleaded even with the judges themselves; so that if they were convicted not to have given just judgment, their sentence might have been broken.’ Whereby it appeareth, that not only the sentence of the pope alone, but also that of the pope with his bishops joined with him, might be made frustrate by a council; for the full judgment of the universal church is not found elsewhere but in a general council. Nor let it move any man, that St. Augustine seemeth here only to speak of bishops; for if the text of his epistle be read over, he shall find the bishop of Rome to be comprehended amongst the other bishops. It was also prohibited by the councils of Africa, that the bishops of Rome should receive or hear the appeals of any who did appeal from a council; which altogether declareth the superiority of a council. And this appeareth more plainly in the Acts of the Apostles, chap. 11, where Peter is rebuked by the congregation of the apostles, because he went in unto Cornelius, a heathen man, as if it had not been lawful for him to attempt any greater matter without the knowledge of the congregation: and yet it was said unto him, as well as others, ‘Ite et baptizate,’ &o. ‘Go and baptize.’ But this seemeth to make more unto the purpose, which St. Paul writeth unto the Galatians, where he saith, that he ‘resisted Peter even unto his face, because he did not walk according to the verity of the gospel,’ Galatians 2. Which words, if they be well understand, signify none other thing by ‘the verity of the gospel,’ than the canon of the council decreed amongst the apostles: for the disciples being gathered together, had so determined it. Whereupon St. Paul doth show, that Peter ought to have obeyed the general council. But now, to finish this disputation, we will here adjoin the determination of the council of Constance, which council aforesaid, willing to cut off all ambiguity and doubts, and to provide a certain order of living, declared by a solemn decree, that all men, of what estate or condition soever they were, yea, although that they were popes themselves, be bound under the obedience and ordinances of the sacred general councils. And although there be a certain restraint, where it is said, ‘In such things as pertain unto the faith, the extirpation of schism, and the reformation of the church, as well in the head as in the members;’ notwithstanding, this amplificative clause, which is adjoined, is to be noted, ‘Et in pertinentibus ad ea;’ that is to say, ‘With all the appurtenants.’ Which addition is so large, that it containeth all things in it which may be imagined or thought. For the Lord said thus unto his apostles, ‘Go ye forth and teach all people.’ He did not say in three points only, but teach them ‘to observe and keep all things, whatsoever I have commanded you.’ And in another place he saith, not this or that, but ‘whatsoever’ ye shall bind, etc., which all together are alleged for the authority of the church and general councils. For the exaltation whereof these places also come in: ‘He that heareth you, heareth me.’ And again, ‘It is given unto you to know the mysteries of God.’ Also, ‘Where two or three be gathered in my name,’ etc. Again, ‘Whatsoever ye shall ask,’ etc. ‘O holy Father! keep them whom thou hast given me,’ etc. And, ‘I am with you even unto the end of the world.’ Also out of St. Paul these places are gathered: ‘We are helpers of God,’ etc. Which hath made us apt ministers of the New Testament,’ etc. ‘And he appointed some apostles, and some prophets,’ etc. In all which places, both Christ and the apostle spake of the authority of many, and all of them are alleged for the authority of the universal church. But forsomuch as that church, being dispersed and scattered abroad, cannot decree or ordain any thing, therefore, of necessity it is to be said, that the chief and principal authority of the church doth reside in general councils, while they are assembled together. And therefore it was observed in the primitive church, that difficult and weighty matters were not intreated upon, but only in general councils and congregations. The same is also found to be observed afterward; for, when the churches were divided in opinion, general councils were holden. And in the council of Nice we do find the heresy of Arius condemned; in the council of Constantinople, the heresy of Macedonius; in the council of Ephesus, the heresy of Nestorius; in the council of Chalcedon, the heresy of Eutyches was also condemned; forsomuch as they thought the judgment of the bishop of Rome not to suffice to so great and weighty matters; and also they thought the sentence of the council to be of greater force and efficacy than the sentence of the pope, forsomuch as be might err as a man. But the council, wherein so many men were gathered together, being guided by the Holy Ghost, could not err. Also it is a very excellent saying of Martianus, the emperor, which serveth for that purpose, whose words are these: ‘Truly he is to be counted a wicked and sacrilegious person, who, after the sentence of so many good and holy men, will stick to withdraw any part of his opinion. For it is a point of mere mad hess, at the noontime and fair daylight to seek for a feigned light; for he who having found the truth, seeketh to discuss any thing further, seeketh but after vanities and lies.’ Now I think it is evident enough unto all men, that the bishop of Rome is under the council. Notwithstanding some do yet still doubt, whether he may also be deposed by the council or not; for, albeit it be proved that he is under the council, yet, for all that, will they not grant that he may be also deposed by the council. Wherefore, it shall be no digressing at all from our purpose, somewhat to say upon that matter; and, first of all, to speak of these railers who are yet so earnest for the defense of the bishop of Rome, who, being vanquished in one battle, still renew another, and contend rather of obstinacy than of ignorance. They would have here recited again that which we have before spoken, as touching the pre-eminence of the bishop of Rome, or the patriarch. And, as there are many of them more full of words than eloquence, they stay much on this point, where Christ said unto Peter, ‘Tibi dabo claves regni coelorum;’ ‘I will give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever thou shalt bind upon earth shall be bound in heaven;’ as though by those words he should be made head over the others. And again, they do amplify it by this, ‘Pasce oves meas,’ ‘Feed my sheep,’ which they do not find to be spoken to any other of the apostles. And, because it is said that Peter was the chief and the mouth of the apostles, therefore they judge it well spoken, that no man shall judge the chief and principal see; being all of this opinion with Boniface, who said, that the pope ought to be judged for no cause, except he be perceived or known to swerve from the faith, although he do carry innumerable people with him headlong into hell, there to be perpetually tormented; as though he could not open the kingdom of heaven to others, if any other could shut it against him; neither that he could feed others, if he himself lacked pasture. But we count these, as things of no force or difficulty. For St. Augustine, in the sermon on the nativity of Peter and Paul, saith in this wise: ‘Our Lord Jesus Christ, before his passion, chose his disciples, as ye know, whom he called brethren. Amongst those Peter alone, almost in every place, represented the person of the church. And therefore it was said unto him, Tibi dabo claves regni coelorum; that is to say, Unto thee will I give the keys of the kingdom of heaven. These keys did he not receive, as one man, but, as one, he received them for the church. And in another place, where he writeth of the christian agony, he saith; ‘The keys of the kingdom of heaven were given unto the church, when they were given unto Peter. And when it was spoken unto him, Amas me? Pasce oves meas; that is to say, Lovest thou me? Feed my sheep; it was spoken unto them all.’ And St. Ambrose, in the beginning of his Pastoral, saith: ‘Which sheep and which flock the blessed apostle St. Peter took no charge of alone, but together with us, and we altogether with him.’ By which words the foundation and principal arguments of those flatterers are utterly subverted and overthrown; for, if Peter represented the person of the church, we ought not to ascribe the force of these words unto Peter, but unto the church. Neither do I see how that can stand which Boniface doth affirm, for it is far distant from the truth, except it be understand otherwise than it is spoken. But it may, peradventure, seem a great thing unto some, that the bishop of Rome is said to be the head of the militant church; for, as in the body of man, physicians do never give counsel to cut off the head for any manner of sickness and disease, although it be ever so full of ulcers, or infected; so, in this mystical body of the church the head ought always to be kept: and, albeit it be ever so wicked, yet it is to be suffered and borne withal. But now convert this argument. If it were possible, in the body of man, when one head is taken away, to find another to put in its place, as we see it may be done in the church; should not heads then be oftentimes changed for divers diseases? Moreover, if we will thus reason, that the head of the church should be, in respect of his body, as the head of man in respect of the body of man; then doth it necessarily follow, that the head being dead, the body must also die, as is manifest in the body of man. So should it grow into an absurdity to confess, that the pope being dead, the church also should be dead; which how far it dissenteth from the truth, it is most manifest. Therefore, whatsoever other men say, I am not of opinion with them who affirm the bishop of Rome to be head of the church, except, peradventure, they do make him the ministerial head: for we do read that Christ is the head of the church, and not the pope; and that he is the true head, immutable, perpetual, and everlasting; and the church is his body, whereof the pope himself is also a member, and the vicar of Christ; not to the destruction, but to the maintenance and edifying of the same body of Christ. Wherefore, if he be found a damnable destroyer of the church, he may be deposed and cast out, because he doth not that he was ordained to do; 46 and we ought, as pope Leo saith, to be mindful of the commandment given us in the gospel; that if our eye, our foot, or our right hand do offend us, it should be cut off from the body. For the Lord saith in another place, ‘Every tree which bringeth not forth fruit, shall be cut down and cast into the fire.’ And in another place also it is said unto us, ‘Take away all evil and wickedness from among you.’ It is very just and true which is written in the epistle of Clement unto James the brother of our Lord, that he who will be saved, ought to be separate from them who will not be saved. But, for the more manifest declaration hereof, we must have recourse to that which is spoken by the Lord in the gospel of John; ‘I am the true vine,’ saith the Lord, ‘and my Father is the husbandman, and ye are the branches; every branch therefore that bringeth not forth fruit in me, my Father will cut off.’ These words were spoken unto the apostles, among whom also Peter was present, whom the Lord would have cut off, if he brought not forth his fruit. Also St. Jerome, upon these words of Matthew, ‘Unsavoury salt is profitable for nothing, but to be cast forth and trodden of swine,’ thereupon in the person of Peter and Paul saith thus: ‘It is no easy matter to stand in the place of Peter and Paul, and to keep the chair of them who reign with Christ. This unsavoury salt (that is to say, a foolish prelate, 47 unsavoury in preaching, and foolish in offending) is good for nothing but to be cast forth, that is to say, deposed, and to be trodden of swine, that is, of wicked spirits, which have dominion over the wicked and naughty prelates, as their own flock and herd.’ Behold this testimony of Jerome is plain and evident; ‘Let him be cast out,’ saith he. He expoundeth and speaketh this of the prelate who usurpeth the place of Peter, and so consequently of the bishop of Rome, who, being unsavoury in preaching, and foolish in offending, ought to be deposed (as Jerome affirmeth) from his degree and dignity. 48 Neither, as some do dream, is he to be deposed for heresy only. Isidore, in the Book of Councils, rehearseth a certain epistle of Clement, the successor of Peter, written unto James the apostle, where the said Clement, repeating the words of Peter unto himself, saith thus: ‘If thou be occupied with worldly cares, thou shalt both deceive thyself, and those who shall give ear unto thee; for thou canst not fully distribute unto every man those things which pertain unto salvation: whereby it shall come to pass, that thou, for not teaching those things which pertain unto human salvation, shalt be deposed, and thy disciples shall perish through ignorance.’ Notwithstanding, in another place, instead of this word ‘deposed,’ it is found, ‘thou shalt be punished; which two words, if they be well understand, do not much differ, for deposition is oftentimes used in the place of punishment. But peradventure some will here object, that this epistle is not to be judged Clement’s, because it is said to be written unto James, who, as the Historia Scholastica 49 affirmeth, was dead before Peter was put to death. But Clement might think that James was alive, when he wrote; who were far distant asunder, and tidings of the Christians came not easily unto Rome. Moreover, there is mention made of this epistle in divers places of the decretals as most true, and therefore it shall be nothing from the purpose to rehearse other sayings out of the same epistle; where he saith, ‘That he who liveth rebelliously, and refuseth both to learn and to do good, is rather a member of the devil than of Christ, and doth show himself rather to be an infidel than a faithful Christian.’ Upon which words, the gloss which Panormitane calleth singular and doth much approve 50 saith, that if the crime or offense of the bishop of Rome be notorious, whereby the church is offended, if he be incorrigible, he may be accused thereof. If then he may be accused, ergo, also, he may be punished, and, according to the exigency of the fault, deposed; otherwise he should be accused in vain. Now is there no more any place of defense left for our adversaries, but that the pope may be deposed; which argument being now brought to an end, notwithstanding it is not yet evident whether he may be deposed by the council or no; which we now take in hand to discourse. And, first of all, the adversaries will grant this unto us; that the bishop of Rome may be deposed by the church, forasmuch as the pope being the vicar of the church, no man doubteth but that a lord may put out his vicar at his will and pleasure: neither is it to be doubted but that the pope is more truly called the vicar of the church than of Christ. But, if the church may depose the pope, ergo, the council also may do the same.* For, as it is before declared, the universal church doth ordain or decree, nothing, but when. it is congregated or gathered together in general councils. Then, albeit they be not all present, it is suffficient that they be all called, whom reason requireth to have present. But here, of one doubt riseth also another; for, whereas the church doth comprehend, as well the laity, as the clergy, a question seemeth, to be demanded why only the clergy do hold the councils, or that the laity are not present and have a voice in the councils. Some one also may suppose that which, is spoken, ‘the church cannot err,’ to be referred unto both states, and both kinds of men and women, that, albeit the clergy do err, the laity might remain firm and constant. And again, if the men happen to err, some women might remain in the faith; but it is erroneous so to think. For we ought to consider the church to be understood two manner of ways: the one, which containeth both the laity and the clergy; the other, which containeth the clergy alone. And to this second church it pertaineth to teach, purge, illuminate, direct, correct, feed, and to make perfect, the first part. Wherefore we do affirm the universal church, which comprehendeth all faithful Christians, to have all manner of authority and power granted unto it: and therefore, that the bishop of Rome is subject thereunto, and may be deposed, cast out, and excommunicated, if he do not rule and govern well. Wherefore, whensoever the faithful Christians are gathered together in the Holy Ghost, to celebrate a council, albeit they be not all there present, yet, because they are lawfully called, the fullness of the power doth consist no more in the pope, but in the council: and immediately as the council is begun, it is straightways above, the pope. Wherefore thus we conclude, that whatsoever is granted or permitted to the universal church, the same is also granted unto a general council. Whereupon, if the universal church (as no man can deny) may depose the pope, a general council may also do the same. 52 Also the gloss, which Panormitane in his writing doth so greatly commend, hath this sentence, ‘That a general council is judge over the pope in all cases.’ Likewise the most sacred synod of Constantinople, which is allowed of all men, doth appoint the bishops of Rome to be under the judgment of a council; and the council to judge and determine, of every doubtful matter, or question that doth arise, concerning the bishop of Rome. Neither let it move any man that this word ‘deposition’ is not mentioned; for it is said ‘of every doubtful matter or question:’ for, if the synod do judge of every doubt, ergo, it shall also judge whether the pope shall be deposed or not; for that may also come in doubt. And because we will not seek examples far off, John 23, whom all the world did reverence as pope, was deposed of his papacy by the council of Constance: neither yet was he condemned for any heresy; but, because he did offend the church by his manifold crimes, the sacred synod thought good to depose him; and ever since, continually, the church hath proceeded by like example, that their opinion might cease, who affirm that the pope cannot be deposed, but only for heresy. But here is yet one thing not to be omitted, that certain men do affirm the general councils to be of no effect, except the pope do call and appoint them, and his authority remain with them. Whereupon they say, that Dioscorus did rebuke Paschasius the bishop of Sicily, and legate of pope Leo, because that he did enterprise, without the authority of the apostolic see, to call a council at Ephesus. They also allege another testimony of the synod of Chalcedon; where, when mention was made of the council of Ephesus, all the bishops cried out, saying, ‘We ought not to call it a council, because it was neither gathered by the apostolic authority, nor rightly kept.’ By which authorities, they who say that the councils cannot be holden without the consent of the pope, do think themselves marvellously armed. Whose sentence and opinion, if it take place and prevail as they desire, it shall bring with it the great ruin and decay of the church. For what remedy shall we find, if a wicked pope do disturb the whole church, destroy souls, seduce the people by his evil example; if, finally, he preach contrary unto the faith, and fill the people full of heresies, shall we provide. no stay or stop for him? shall we suffer all things to run to ruin and decay with him? Who would think that the bishop of Rome would congregate a council for his own correction or deposition? for as men are prone unto sin, so would they also sin without punishment. But when I do peruse ancient histories, and the Acts of the Apostles, I do not find this order, that councils should be gathered only at the will of the pope; for the first council of all, after Matthias was substituted in the place of Judas, was not congregated at the commandment of Peter, but at the commandment of Christ, who commanded the apostles that they should not depart from Jerusalem, but look for the promise of the Father. The second council, as touching the election of the deacons, Peter alone did not congregate, but the twelve apostles; for it is written, ‘The twelve apostles, calling together the multitude,’ etc. The third council, which was holden as touching the taking away of circumcision and other ceremonies of the law, was gathered together by a general inspiration: for it is written, ‘The apostles and elders came together,’ etc. The fourth council, where certain things contained in the law are permitted, seemeth to have been gathered by James. And so, discoursing throughout all, there can nothing be found in the primitive church, whereby it should appear that the authority of congregating of councils should pertain only unto bishops of Rome. Neither afterwards in the time of Constantine the Great, and other emperors, was the consent of the bishops of Rome greatly required to the congregating of councils; and therefore the synod of Chalcedon speaketh thus of itself: ‘The sacred and universal synod gathered together at Chalcedon, the chief city of the province of Bithynia, according to the grace of God, and the sanctions of the most godly and christian emperors, Valentinian and Martian.’ The synod doth not make any mention here of the bishop of Rome, although his consent were there. Wherefore, if the pope would resist, and would have no council congregated, yet, if the greater part of the prelates do judge it necessary to have a council, the council may be congregated whether the pope will or no. *For when the prelates be generally inspired, the judgment of one man must needs give place, although he be the successor of Peter. Neither do I perceive it to have been always observed, that there should be no council holden without the authority of the pope.* For the council holden at Pisa, was not congregate by the authority and consent of any pope, when Gregory did condemn it, and Benedict cursed it. The same also may be said of the council of Constance, which was assembled by the authority of pope John, who in respect of the Spaniards was no true pope. And, if the council of Pisa were no true council, pope John was no true pope; whereupon his consent to the congregating of the council of Constance was of no effect. Moreover, it is more than folly to affirm, that when the pope hath once given his consent, if it should be called back, the council should then cease, for then it is no more in his power to revoke his consent. And of necessity he must be obedient unto the council whereof he is a member, and give place unto the greater part: and if he separate himself from the consent of the greater part, and depart from the unity of the church, he maketh himself a schismatic. Now, to come unto the second conclusion: if it be true, as it is indeed, that the pope is under the council, how can the pope then dissolve, alter, and transport the council, against the will of the same? for with what countenance can we say, that the inferior hath power over the superior? How can the synod correct the pope, if the pope may dissolve the synod contrary to the will thereof? Admit the pope be libidinous, covetous, a sower of war and discord, and a most mortal enemy unto the church and the name of Christ, how can the council reprove him, if he have authority to dissolve the council? For as soon as ever the bishop of Rome shall understand, that in the council they do treat or talk of his correction or punishment, straightways he will seek remedy by dissolving the council. For, as Macrobins saith, he that hath liberty to do more than is fit or necessary, will oftentimes do more than is lawful. If so be that the bishop of Rome may exempt himself from correction by dissolving or transporting the council, it followeth that the council is not above him. Therefore we must either deny that which is before said, that the pope is under, the council, or else deny that the pope hath power to dissolve the council, contrary to the will and determination of the council. And, as the first conclusion is most true, so are all other conclusions false, which seem to impugn the same. Wherefore the second conclusion of the divines is also manifest, albeit some do admit it in certain cases, and, in others, exclude it again. For, if we do admit, that for certain causes the pope may dissolve the council contrary to the will and determination thereof, that is to say, to make the pope judge of the council, it were clean contrary unto the first conclusion. Now it is proved that the council is above the pope, and cannot be dissolved by the pope without consent thereof. Now we must further see, whether it be an article of our faith to believe it; which matter hath respect unto the third conclusion. For there have been many, who, albeit they did confess these two conclusions to be true, yet they doubted whether it were a verity of the catholic faith or no. Therefore this second part must be confirmed, and we must see whether it be an article of faith that the pope be under the council; which being proved, it shall also appear to be an article of faith, that the pope cannot dissolve the council without the consent thereof: which consequent none of the contrary part hath refuted. First of all therefore we must inquire what faith itself is, that we may thereby the better understand what pertaineth thereunto. Faith, as the divines do define it, is a firm and steadfast cleaving unto things believed on the authority of him that speaketh. If then we believe, as is aforesaid, that the pope of Rome is under the council, some authority doth move us thereunto: so is there faith in him that believeth it. But the question is not whether it be an article of faith only, but whether it be an article of the catholic faith. Wherefore we must again inquire, what the catholic faith is. This word Catholic is a Greek word, and signifieth Universal. The catholic faith, that is to say, the universal faith, is not so called because every man holdeth it, but because every man ought to believe it. For all men do not believe that God is incarnate, but every man ought so to believe. And albeit many be against this faith, yet doth it not cease to be universal. For what writeth the apostle unto the Romans? ‘If some of them have not believed, doth their misbelief make the faith of God vain? God forbid. Verily God is true, but every man is a liar.’ Romans 3. Therefore to believe that the pope is under the council, is a point of the catholic faith, although some think the contrary: for we are bound to believe it, forsomuch as it is taken out of the gospel. For we are not bound only to believe those things that are noted to us in the Creed, but also all those things that are contained in the holy Scriptures, whereof we may not deny one iota. And those things which we allege for the superiority of a general council, are gathered out of the sayings of our Savior Jesus Christ, and the epistles of Saint Paul: ergo, we are all bound to believe it. And to prove that these things are taken out of the gospel, the council of Constance doth witness, which groundeth its authority upon these words, ‘Dic ecclesiae;’ that is to say, ‘Tell it unto the church;’ and, ‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name,’ etc.; and, ‘Whatsoever ye shall bind,’ etc., with other such like texts. *And 54 Saint Austin saith: ‘Quod evangelio non crederet, ni autoritas ecclesiae se commoveret;’ that is to say, that he would not give any credit unto the gospel, except the authority of the church did move him thereunto: in this place, naming the church for the general council. For the church, which was dispersed in every place, did not ordain the receiving of the Gospels and Scriptures; but the church which was congregated and gathered together in the general council. And, thereby, it may come to pass, that, like as the council did bind us to the believing of them, so may it also set forth other things unto us, to be believed.* Whereupon pope Martin V., being yet at Constance, under the license of the council sent out his bulls, which do reckon up the articles, whereupon they ought to be examined who had fallen into any heresy; amongst which articles he putteth this article:— Whether he doth believe a sacred general council to have power immediately from God, and that the ordinances thereof are to be received of all faithful Christians; which if any man would deny, he should be counted a heretic. Wherefore, when the sacred synod of Constance doth set forth this verity, as touching the superiority of a general council, what should let, but that we also should confess the same to be a verity of the catholic faith? For the catholic church, being congregate at Constance, received that faith; that is to say, believed it by the authority of him who spake it; that is, Christ and his saints. To this purpose also serve very well the words of the synod of Chalcedon, written in this manner:—“It is not lawful to name him ‘bishop,’ that is condemned by the whole synod. The determination pleaseth all men. This is the faith of the fathers. He that holdeth any opinion contrary unto this, is a heretic. And again, it is a rule, that it is not lawful to appeal from the elect and chosen synod. He that holdeth any opinion contrary to this, is a heretic.” Mark the manifest witness of this most sacred synod, which said, that he is a heretic, who holdeth any opinion contrary unto the council. But he is no heretic, except he refuse the catholic faith: ergo, it was the catholic faith to believe that it was not lawful to appeal from the sacred council. But how was the same any point of the catholic faith? Verily, forsomuch as the sacred synod, perusing over the holy Scriptures, hath received this conclusion out of the words of Christ and other holy fathers. And, like as the synod of Chalcedon took their conclusions out of the holy Scriptures, so likewise did the council of Constance this which we now reason upon. And like as the one is an article of the catholic faith, so is the other also. And he who holdeth any opinion contrary to either or both, is a heretic. Furthermore they seem unto me to dream and dote, who, confessing them to be verities, will not confess them to be verities of faith. For if they be verities, I pray you whereof are they verities? Truly not of grammar, much less of logic; and from astronomy and physic they are far distant: neither is there any other man but a divine, that will grant this verity, whom Scripture doth force unto it of necessity, if he do believe Christ, or his apostles. Therefore this is a verity of the catholic faith, which all men ought to embrace; and he who obstinately resisteth against the same, is to be judged a heretic, as the third conclusion doth affirm. Neither let any man think it hard or cruel, that he should be called a heretic, who goeth about to derogate any thing from the power of a general council, which is confirmed by so many testimonies and authorities, *when he also is counted a heretic, who taketh away the supremacy from the church of Rome, which is one of the Greeks’ heresies that are condemned.* Also Panormitane allegeth St. Jerome, saying, ‘He who understandeth the Scripture otherwise than the sense of the Holy Ghost doth require, albeit he do not depart from the church, may be called a heretic.’ Whereupon it followeth, that he, who, upon the words of Christ, saying unto Peter, ‘Die ecclesiae,’ i.e. ‘Tell it unto the church,’ doth not understand by ‘the church’ a general council, understandeth it otherwise than the sense of the Holy Ghost doth require, and thereby may be noted as a heretic. And that the sense of the Holy Ghost is otherwise than he doth judge it, the council of Constance doth declare’, the which interpreting those words ‘Dic ecclesiae,’ that is, ‘Tell it unto the church,’ spoken by the Holy Ghost, understandeth them to be spoken of a general council. For these and many other weighty reasons the three aforesaid conclusions seemed true unto the divines, and through them they also allowed the residue. Now have we sufficiently said, as touching that which was before promised; neither do I think any man now can be in doubt about the three first conclusions. Now, to return again unto our story; it is our purpose to declare those things which happened after the conclusion of the divines; for many of them are worthy of remembrance, and may haply be profitable unto posterity. *When 55 the matter was allowed by the divines, it came to the examination of the deputations, 532 whereof three, without much ado, consented with the divines. The fourth, which was named the Common deputation, admitting the three first conclusions, seemed to hesitate about the residue. George, bishop of Vich, was a great stop to this matter; who, being newly returned from Mentz, and not being present at the disputation holden at the chapter-house, could not be persuaded, that Eugene could without a new convocation be declared a heretic. Amedeus, archbishop of Lyons, favored him very much; not for his opinion (for he had openly, in the disputation of the chapter-house, declared Eugene a heretic and relapse), but because he feared that the deposition of the pope would be the next step. There were, in this deputation, many who not only now, but always had favored Eugene’s part. This deputation, lest, according to the old custom of the council, the matter should be concluded by three deputations, did suspend all deliberation; for by that suspension they brought a greater stop and let than they should have done by denying, and so protracted the matter a long time. For this cause messengers were sent from the other deputations, through whose exhortation the Common deputation did revoke their suspension upon the three conclusions. And now Friday was come, on which day they were accustomed to have a general congregation, and a final conclusion of their business.* Meanwhile, the archbishop of Milan and Panormitane, 533 with the residue of their fellow ambassadors of the king of Arragon and the duke of Milan, armed themselves with all their power to let the matter, exhorting all men of their faction to withstand it with stout and valiant stomachs; *and 55A by their letters and messengers they called back others, who were gone away for fear of the plague. The cardinal of Tarragona, who then sojourned at Soleure, was sent for; likewise was Louis, the prothonotary of Rome, who was gone unto the baths, not so much for his health’s sake, as to avoid being compelled to defend Eugene contrary to his real mind. There were many of the bishops of the Arragons sent for beside, who all came back again the day before the congregation should be holden, excepting the cardinal, who returned after the congregation. As soon as the time was come for the congregation to begin, the ambassadors of the princes were present, and, as though they had before conspired together, all unanimously agreed to hinder the conclusion as much as in them lay.* And first of all, the bishop of Burgos, a man distinguished for wisdom and eloquence, exhorted them to defer the conclusion, and to tarry for the other ambassadors of the princes, who would shortly return from Mentz. After him Panormitane, a man of singular talent and learning, and chief ambassador of his king, with a grave and rhetorical oration spake, in a manner, as followeth. THE ORATION OF PANORMITANE. 55B I have, said he, had a commandment by the prophet, to cry without ceasing; which prophet said, ‘Cry out, cease not, lift up thy voice as a trumpet.’ If that in any matter at any time before it were proper to cry, this matter specially, which was now in hand, lacked crying and roaring out, when the state of the universal church was treated upon, either to be preserved, or utterly overthrown; and that he had cried so much in this manner, that he doubted not but the saying of David was fulfilled in him, where he saith,—‘Laboravi clamans, raucae sunt factae fauces meae;’—‘I have labored, crying out, that my jaws are become hoarse.’ Notwithstanding, that he would, both now and as often as need should require, without ceasing still cry out, and especially now in this most difficult and weighty matter; wherein he required the sacred council gently to hear both him, and the ambassadors of other princes; adding, moreover, four things to be considered, in all requests made of any man; which he also required the fathers now presently to mark and consider: who it is that maketh the request? what is required? why it should be required? and what effect would come by the request either granted or denied? As touching the first point he said; the most noble kings and excellent princes with their prelates, were of great power. And then he reckoned up the king of Castile, the king of Arragon, the duke of Milan, and the bishops of the same princes; rehearsing also the merits and good deeds of the said kings, and also of the duke of Milan. But when he came to make mention of the prelates, he could not refrain himself, but began to wax somewhat hot, saying, that the greatest number of prelates were on his part. For if the bishops and abbots were counted, it were not to be doubted but the greatest part of them would have this present matter deferred; and, forsomuch as the whole power of the council doth consist in the bishops, it is not to be suffered, that they being neglected and contemned, that should be concluded, which pleased the greater part of the inferiors. For the keys, said he, were given to the apostles, and to their successors, who are the bishops: also that there are three kinds of synods, episcopal, provincial, and general, and none of all these without bishops. Wherefore the manner and order of the present council seemed indecent, where things were not weighed according as men excel in dignity, but by most voices: notwithstanding, according to the most famous epistle of Clement, the bishops were the pillars and keys of heaven, and the inferiors had no determining voice, but only a consultative voice with them. Wherefore there would be a great offense in this behalf, if a matter of faith should be determined without the bishops; in which matter not only the bishops, but also the secular princes ought to be admitted. And, forsomuch as they, in the name of their princes, desired to be admitted to the examination of this present matter, and would examine the matter more fully, he complained greatly how unworthy a thing it was, that they should be contemned or despised. After many things spoken to this end and effect, he passed over to the second part of his oration, declaring what it was that he required; not gold, nor silver, neither precious stones, neither provinces nor kingdoms, neither a thing hard to be done; but only that the delay of the sacred council was required, and that the fathers, would stay in the process against the pope, and. in the conclusion and determination of matters which were then in hand. Neither should the delay be long, but only until the return of the ambassadors from Mentz, who, he knew well, would return very shortly. That this was but a small matter, and needed but small entreaty, because there was no danger in it. And also it should seem injurious, not to tarry for the ambassadors of the princes who were then at Mentz, when they were not absent for their own private commodity, but about the affairs of the commonwealth, and the commodity of peace; neither had he forgotten, that at their departure they had desired, that during their absence there should, be nothing renewed concerning the matters of Eugene. Then, immediately adjoining the third part of his oration, wherefore this delay was required, he concluded, that it was not required for the private commodity of any one man, but for the common weal; not to perturb or trouble any thing, but for the better examination of the matter, that all things might pass with peace and quietness; and that the matter might be so much the more firm and stable, by how much it is ratified and allowed by the consent of many. And so he proceeded, to the last part of his argument, requiring the fathers that they would consider, and weigh in their minds, the effect that would follow, if they should grant or deny this request. ‘For,’ saith he, ‘if ye shall deny this small petition of the princes, they all will he aggrieved therewith, and take this repulse in ill part. They will say, they are contemned of you, neither will they be obedient unto you, or receive your decrees. In vain shall ye make laws, except the princes do execute them, and all your decrees shall be but vain: yet would I think this to be borne withal, if I did not fear greater matters to ensue. What if they should join themselves with Eugene, who desireth to spoil you, not only of your livings, but also of your lives? Alas! what slaughter and murder do the eyes of my mind behold and see! Would to God my opinion were but vain! But if you do grant and consent unto their petitions, they will think themselves bound unto you; they will receive and embrace your decrees, and whatsoever you shall require of them shall be obtained. They will forsake your adversary; they will speak evil of him and abhor him; but you they will commend and praise; you they will reverence; unto you they will wholly submit themselves; and then shall follow that most excellent fruit of reformation and tranquillity of the church.’ And thus he required the matter to be respited on all parts. At the last he said, That except the ambassadors of the princes were heard, he had a protestation written, which he would command to be read before them all. When Panormitane had made an end of his oration, Louis, the prothonotary of Rome, rose up, a man of such singular wit and memory, that he was thought not to be inferior unto any of the famous men of olden time; for he had always in memory whatsoever he had heard or read, and never forgat any thing that he had seen; * and when he was arguing, 534 he did not merely quote laws by their first words, as other lawyers do, but repeated the law itself as fluently as if he had been reading it from a book.* THE ORATION OF LOUIS THE PROTHONOTARY. This man, first commending Panormitane, said, That he came but the day before from the baths, and that it seemed unto him a strange thing which was now brought in question; wherein he desired to hear other men’s minds, and also to be heard of others; and that those prelates who were at Mentz should be tarried for, to be present at the discussing of this matter, in the name and behalf of their princes, which prelates were men of great estimation, and the orators of most mighty princes. He allowed, also, the saying of Panormitane, touching the voices of the inferiors, and said that it seemed not to him to be against the truth, that only bishops should have a determining voice in councils. And, albeit some in this disputation did think that which is written in Acts 15 to be their fort or defense; notwithstanding, he was nothing moved therewith, nor took it to be of any force or moment, albeit it was said, ‘It seemed good unto the Holy Ghost and to us,’ where both the apostles and the elders were gathered together; whereby it appeared, that the others had a deciding voice with the apostles. For he said, that there was no argument to be gathered of the acts of the Apostles, whose examples were more to be marvelled at than to be imitated; and that it doth not appear there, that the apostles called the elders of duty, but it is only declared that they were there present; whereupon nothing could be inferred; and that it seemed unto him, that the inferiors in the council of Basil would be admitted to determine with the bishops but of grace and favor only, because the bishops may communicate their authority unto others; *notwithstanding, in these matters which are graces, if one say the contrary, nothing can be done.* He alleged for testimony the bishop of Cuenca, a man of great authority, who would not suffer any incorporation or fellowship of the meaner sort, and therefore neither any inferior, not even himself (who as yet was not made bishop), to have any deciding voice in the council. Wherefore, forsomuch as the matter was weighty which was now in hand, and that the bishops spake against it, he begged the council that, making a virtue of necessity, 535 they would stay for the ambassadors of the princes coming from Mentz. His oration 55C was so much the more grievous, in that many were touched with his words: what gave special offense was, that he said the apostles were not to be imitated; for that, all men did impugn as a blasphemy. But here a man may marvel, that a man of such excellency alleged no more or better matter. But it was not the man’s memory which was in fault: the fact is, he did not speak heartily in this matter, and desired nothing so much, as not to obtain that which he entreated for. *After 56 him the bishops of Catants and Boss, 57 who were also the king’s ambassadors, spoke in a few words in favor of the opinion of Panormitane. At that time the archbishop of Milan, a man of prompt and ready wit and learning, who was there alone ambassador for the duke of Milan (for the bishop of Albenga, and Francis Barbavaria, were not yet returned from Mentz); he, being a follower of St. Jerome, alleging many authorities out of the said doctor, exhorted earnestly to have the matter deferred, abhorring all haste, which, he said, was enemy unto the council, and by his countenance and gesture declaring himself to be greatly against the present proceedings. At the last he said, that except he were fully heard, he would make protestation in the name of himself and all his countrymen. After him followed the bishops of Tortosa and Girona, and a divine of Segorbe, abbot-elect of Mount Arragon, 536 and some other men of that rank, who altogether approved the sentence and determination of Panormitane. The bishop of Parma agreed with the archbishop of Milan; also the king’s almoner, who afterward, flying from Basil because of the plague unto Zoffingen, died in a town of the Switzers, between Lucerne and Basil. These, with Martinus de Vera, another ambassador of the king of Arragon, did confirm and stay themselves upon the saying of their fellow Panormitane. Then the other Arragons and Catalonians, wishing to speak every one for himself, said that they did all agree to the desire of their king. The matter seemed to be craftily contrived, that they should spend the time and defer the conclusion. When a great number had spoken their minds, and a long succession of Catalonians had made an end,* Louis, the cardinal Arelatensis, a man of marvellous constancy and born for the governance of general councils, gathered together the words of all the orators; and turning himself first to the Castilians, he spake much of their devotion to the sacred council; in like wise he spake of the Catalonians and Lombards: afterward, he, entering upon the matter, spake in this wise: THE ORATION OF THE CARDINAL ARELATENSIS. Most reverend fathers! this is now no new or strange business, nor begun today or yesterday. For it is now many weeks ago since the conclusions were disputed upon amongst the divines, and sent unto Mentz, and into all other parts of the world. After this they were disputed upon six successive days in the chapter-house of this church, and fully discussed, and after that, not without great delay, approved by the deputations; and as the truth seeketh no corners, so all things were done publicly and openly, neither can any man pretend ignorance; neither were the prelates or princes passed over, for we invited all that were then at Basil, and exhorted them all to be present. And forsomuch as mention is made of the most noble king of Castile, who is ignorant that the king’s own orators were there present, the bishops of Burgos and Ebrun, men of singular learning and eloquence? And you also Panormitane yourself, who here represent the person of the most famous king of Arragon, were twice present yourself in the chapter-house, and disputed twice most subtilely, and twice declared your mind, what you thought in that matter. Why do you desire more delay! Also out of the territory of the duke of Milan there was present the archbishop of Milan, who albeit he be no ambassador, yet how famous a prelate he is, you are not ignorant. When he had spoken these words, the archbishop of Milan, being somewhat moved, said unto him, “My lord cardinal, you supply the room of a president no more than I do the place of the duke’s orator;” and began to taunt him with many words. But the cardinal (as he was a most patient man, and would not be provoked to anger by any means), said as followeth: THE ORATION OF THE CARDINAL ARCHBISHOP OF ARLES CONTINUED. That is just what I wanted. For if the archbishop be an ambassador, then hath the duke no cause to complain, who had his orator present at the discussing of those matters. I pass over other, princes, because they do not complain. Notwithstanding, the most christian king of France had there the archbishop of Lyons, a grave and sober man, as his ambassador at the disputation. As for other princes, I see no cause why they should be tarried for, who, knowing the council to be congregated for such matters as pertain unto faith, do not think it absurd that the doubtful matters of faith should be determined in the council; whereat, if they had wished to be present, they would have come or this. Besides 58 that, it is not true what Panormitane saith, that secular princes ought to be admitted to any matter of faith, if he understand their coming to be in order to determine. And, albeit that Martianus the emperor doth say, ‘Nos ad fidem confirmandam volumus interesse synodo;’ that is, ‘We will be present at the council for the confirmation of the faith;’ which words Panormitane doth so often allege, yet that must be added, which he himself doth add, that we may have the perfect understanding of his words, for he saith; ‘Nos ad fidem confirmandam, non potentiam exercendam, volumus interesse synodo;’ that is, ‘we will be present at the council, not to exercise our power and authority, but for the confirmation of the faith;’ speaking it to this intent, that, thereby he might specially take away all fear from those, who thought that his presence would frustrate the council: which thing if our princes now-a-days would do, the matter were at an end. But our princes in these days, when by reason of their absence they cannot themselves threaten, yet will they put men in fear by their ambassadors. But God will look upon such doings.* Why this matter should need so much discussing as some will have, I do not understand; for if I rightly remember, Panormitane and also Louis have oftentimes affirmed in this place even the very same thing which the conclusions signify. And if any of them now will go about to gainsay it, it will happen unto them as it did unto Didimus,* than whom, as Quintilian saith, ‘No man at any time wrote more,’* to whom, when on a time he repugned against a certain history as vain and frivolous, his own book was delivered unto him, wherein the same was written: so likewise these two men, 59 although they be excellently learned, and eloquent, yet may they be confuted by their own writings. Besides this, there are synodal epistles and decrees of this council, which are full of such conclusions. What is it then whereupon any difficulty can be raised? what is it that may be impugned? Shall we now bring that again in doubt, which hath so often been declared, affirmed, and decreed? ‘But,’ say they, ‘the princes and ambassadors are absent, who are bishops, by whose presence the decrees should be of more authority.’ Well, not only are they absent who are gone to Mentz, but almost an infinite number of others, dispersed throughout the whole world, whom if we should tarry to look for, nothing at any time should be decreed. They are all called unto the council; they might have come if they would. To those that are present power is given, and they ought to debate these matters. If any man will say, that they who are absent are about the affairs of the commonwealth, truly we sent them not thither, but they went rather against the will of the council, than with the consent thereof. And admit that they had been sent by the council, yet were not our power so much restrained but that we might reform the church, for, otherwise, there should never any thing be done in the council; forsomuch as always some are sent out by the council, and some are always to be looked and tarried for; and therefore we must either do nothing at all, or send out no prelates from the council. Whereas he said that prelates, and especially bishops, are contemned, that is most far from the truth, for they have the chief and first places. They speak first, and give their voices first of all, unto all things; and, if so be they do speak learnedly and truly, all the inferiors, without any gainsaying, do soon follow their mind. Neither, peradventure, shall it seem dissonant from the truth, to say, that there was never any synod which did more amplify the power and authority of bishops, than this. For what have the bishops been in our days, but only shadows? Might they not well have been called shepherds without the sheep? What had they more than their mitre and their staff, when they could determine nothing over their subjects? Verily, in the primitive church, the bishops had the greatest power and authority; 60 but now is it come to that point that they do only exceed the common sort of priests in their habit and revenues. But we have restored them again to their old estate; we have reduced the collation of benefices again unto them; we have restored unto them the confirmation of elections; we have brought again into their hands the causes of the subjects to be heard, and have made them bishops who were none before. What cause is there then, that the bishops should say they are contemned of the council, or what injurious thing have we at any time done unto them? But Panormitane saith, that forsomuch as most bishops are on his part, and few against him, the conclusion is not to be determined by the multitude of the inferiors. But let Panormitane remember himself, that this is no new kind of proceeding. This order of proceeding the council ordained from the beginning, neither hath it been changed at any time since. And this order, Panormitane! in times past hath pleased you well enough, when the multitude did follow your mind. 61 But now, because they do not follow your mind, they do displease you. But the decrees of the council are not so mutable as the wills of men. Know ye, moreover, that the very same bishops who do consent with you in word, do not consent with you in mind, neither speak the same secretly, which they now do openly. They do fear that which you told them at home in their country, that except they would follow your mind they should displease the king. They fear the power of the prince, and to be spoiled of their temporalties; neither have they free liberty to speak as is requisite in councils. Albeit, if they were true bishops, and true pastors of souls, they would not doubt to put their lives in venture for their sheep, neither be afraid to shed their blood for their mother the church. But at this present (the more is the pity) it is rare to find a prelate in this world, who doth not prefer his temporalities before his spiritualties; with the love whereof they are so withdrawn, that they study rather to please princes than God; and confess God in corners, but princes they will openly confess. Of whom the Lord speaketh in his Gospel; ‘Every one,’ saith he, ‘that confesseth me before men, I will confess him before my Father which is in heaven.’ 62 And, contrariwise, the Lord will not confess him before his Father who is afeard to confess the Lord before men. Neither is that true which Panormitane saith, that most bishops are on his part; for here are many bishops’ proctors whom he doth not reckon, because they are not of his opinion. Neither is the dignity of the fathers to be respected in the council, as he saith, but only reason; nor any thing more to be looked for than the truth; neither will I, for my part, prefer a lie of any bishop, be he never so rich, before a verity or truth of a poor priest. Neither ought a bishop to disdain, if he be rude or unlearned, that the multitude doth not follow him, or that the voice of a poor learned and eloquent priest should be preferred before his. For wisdom dwelleth oftener under a bare and ragged cloak than in rich ornaments and apparel. Wherefore, I pray you, my lord bishops! do not so much contemn your inferiors; for the first who died for Christ, who also opened unto all others the way of martyrdom, was no bishop but only a Levite. As for that which Ludovicus and Panormitane do allege, touching the voices of bishops, I know not where they have it; wherefore I desire them that they would tell me where they have found it. But if we repeat the examples of old councils, we shall find that the inferiors were always present with the bishops. And, albeit Ludovicus do forbid us the examples of the apostles, I stay myself most upon their doings: for what is more comely for us to follow, than the doctrine and customs of the primitive church? 63 It is said, therefore, in the fifteenth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, ‘It seemed good unto the Holy Ghost, and to us;’ which words, ‘to us,’ are referred unto them who are before named, the apostles and elders. Neither this word, ‘it seemed good,’ signifieth in this place consultation, but decision and determination; whereby it appeareth that others beside the bishops had determining voices. In another place also of the Acts, when the apostles should treat upon a weighty matter, they durst not determine by themselves, but the twelve called together the multitude. Here Ludovicus saith, that it doth not appear the apostles called others of necessity.—But I say unto him, how knowest thou, that they did not call them of necessity? But, forsomuch as both parts are uncertain, nothing doth prohibit us to follow the apostles. For, seeing that all things are written for our learning, it appeareth that the apostles would give us example, that in weighty matters we should admit our inferiors. And, therefore, in all councils which were celebrated and holden afterwards, we find that priests were also present; as in the council of Nice, which of all other was most famous, Athanasius, being then but only a priest, withstood the Arians and infringed their arguments, albeit there were also other priests. And, albeit mention be made of three hundred and twentytwo bishops, yet it is not denied but that the inferiors were there, whom I think to be omitted for this cause, for that they were almost innumerable; for, as you know well enough, the denomination for the most part is taken of the most worthy. In the synod of Chalcedon, which was counted one of the four principal synods, it is said that there were there present six hundred priests; which name is common both unto bishops and presbyters. In other councils the names both of bishops and priests are omitted, and mention is made of fathers only, which hath the same signification that this word ‘elders’ hath in the Acts of the Apostles. We have also a testimony of ecclesiastical history, how that there was a council gathered at Rome of sixty bishops, and as many priests and deacons, against the Novarians, who called themselves Cathari. Also, when Paul 64 the bishop of Antioch, in the time of Galienus the emperor, preached that Christ was a man of common nature, the council assembled against him in Antioch; whereunto there came bishops out of Cesarea, Cappadocia, out of Pontus, Asia, and from Jerusalem, and many other bishops, priests, and deacons; and it is said, that for that matter the council was often holden. And at the last, in the same place, under Aurelius the emperor, Paul was condemned by all christian churches which were under heaven; neither was there any man who did more confound the said Paul, than Malchion, a priest of Antioch, who taught rhetoric in Antioch. *But 65 to what purpose do I stand so long in this matter? these are the words of the fifth council holden at Toledo: 537 ‘After all the bishops be entered in and set, let the priests be called, who are allowed by the cause to enter in. Let no deacon put in himself amongst them, but let such as are allowed enter in afterwards, whom the order of council requireth to be present. And then the bishops being set round in a ring together, let the priests sit behind them, except such as the metropolitan shall choose to sit with him, who, also, may judge and determine any thing together with him.’ There is no man who will affirm this to have been but only a provincial council. For the council speaking of itself, saith: ‘quoniam generale concilium agimus,’ ‘forsomuch as we do hold a general council.’ And there were also present sixty bishops out of Spain, and France. But, peradventure, the words of the council of Chalcedon do move Panormitane and Ludovicus; where the bishops, speaking of a certain congregation, which deposed Flavianus and certain others, said: ‘the soldiers did depose them rather than we; for whatsoever we did, we were compelled by fear to do it, and the clergy themselves subscribed first;’ wherefore they cried out that ‘it was a synod of bishops and not of clerks;’ the which words, if they be well understand, do not exclude the inferiors. For two things the bishops complained of: the one, that they had no liberty in Constantinople; and the other, that the clergy subscribed first: both which were evil examples. Wherefore, if it be said that it was not a council, only called a synod of bishops, and not of clerks, yet this did not exclude all the inferiors, but only such as had taken Benet and Collet; 66 whom we also do exclude, observing the order, which the council of Toledo commanded to be appointed; twelve men for the examination of such as should be incorporated in the council. Moreover, it is not said in that place, these are the words of the council, but of some of the bishops who spake there, as Panormitane and Ludovicus do here.* But, to make no long digression from the matter, we have most evident testimonies for the defense of inferiors; for the chief and principal Aristotle amongst all the divines, St. Augustine, upon the words of Matthew, where Christ saith to Peter, ‘I will give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven,’ saith, That by those words the judicial power was given not only unto Peter, but also to the other apostles, and to the whole church, the bishops and priests. If, then, priests have a judicial power in the church, what should let that they have not also a determining voice in the councils? The famous doctor, St. Jerome, doth also agree with St. Augustine, whose words are these upon the Epistle of Paul unto Titus: ‘Before difference was made in religion by the instigation of the devil, or that it was spoken amongst the people, ‘I hold of Paul, I of Apollos, and I of Cephas,’ the churches were governed by the common consent and council of the priests; for a priest is the very same that a bishop is.’ Wherefore all bishops ought to understand, that they are of greater power than priests rather by custom, than by the dispensation of the truth of God, and that they ought to rule the church together. Also the said Jerome, in his epistle unto Damasus upon the ecclesiastical degrees, saith: ‘The Lord is represented in the bishops, and the apostles in the priests. And this we do also gather out of Paul unto Titus, who maketh so much concordance between bishops and priests, that oftentimes he calleth priests bishops; whereby it doth evidently appear, that priests are not to be excluded from the conventions of bishops, and determinations of matters. Albeit, as St. Jerome writeth that bishops are only by custom preferred before priests, it may be that a contrary custom may take away that custom. For if priests ought to rule the church together with the bishops, it is evident that it also pertaineth unto them to decide and determine the doubtful matters of the church. Wherefore the testimony of St. Paul is evident; for as he, writing unto the Ephesians, saith, ‘If Christ instituted his apostles, prophets, pastors, and teachers to the work of the ministry, for the edifying of his church, until such time as we should meet him, for this purpose, that there should be no doubt in the diversity of doctrine: who doubteth then, but that the governance of the church is committed unto others together with the apostles? Let these our champions now hold their peace, and seem to be no wiser than they ought to be. The memorial of the council of Constance is yet fresh in memory, where divers of us were present, and I myself also, who was neither cardinal nor bishop, but only a doctor; where I did see, without any manner of doubt or difficulty, the inferiors to be admitted with the bishops, to the deciding of hard and doubtful matters. Neither ought we to be ashamed to follow the example of that most sacred and great council, which also followed the examples of the council of Pisa, and the great council at Lateran, wherein it is not to be doubted, but that the priests did jointly judge together with the bishops. Moreover, if abbots, as we do see it observed in all councils, have a determining voice, who, notwithstanding, were not instituted by Christ, why should not priests have the same, whose order Christ ordained by his apostles? Here- upon also, if only bishops should have a determining voice, nothing else should be done but what pleased the Italian nation, the which alone doth exceed all other nations, or at the least is equal with them, in number of bishops. And howsoever it be, I judge it in this behalf to be a work of God, that the inferiors should be admitted to the determinations; for God hath now revealed that unto little ones, which he hath hidden from the wise. Behold you do see the zeal, constancy, uprightness, and magnanimity of these inferiors. Where should the council now be, if only bishops and cardinals should have their voice? Where should the authority of the councils be? Where should the catholic faith be? Where should the decrees and reformation be? For all things have now a long time been under the will of Eugene, and he had now obtained his wicked and naughty purpose, except these inferiors, whom ye now contemn, had withstand him. These are they who have contemned the privation made by Eugene. These, I say, are they who have not regarded his threatenings, spoil and persecution. These are they who, being taken, imprisoned, and tormented, have not feared to defend the truth of the council; yea, even these are they, who, albeit they were by Eugene delivered over a prey, yet would they still continue in the sacred council, and feared not to suffer war, famine, and most cruel pestilence. 67 And, finally, what thing is it, that these men have not willingly suffered for the right and equity of the council? You might have heard this inferior sort, even in the midst of their tribulations, with a loud voice cry out and say, ‘Albeit that all men become obedient unto that subverter of the church, Eugene, and that every man do depart from the verity of the faith and constitutions of the fathers, consenting unto the commandments of Eugene, yet we and our brethren will be constant, and doubt not to die for the truth and traditions of the holy fathers;’ the which indeed they have done. Neither could they be feared with threatenings, or altered with any spoils, neither could any fear or hope turn them from their most blessed purpose. And to speak somewhat of mine own order, whether any cardinals have done the like or no, that judge you. As for the bishops, whom Panormitane alone would have to determine, you see how few of them are on our part; and even those who are here present, are not able by virtue to overcome iniquity: they fear the terrene power, and commit offense with their haste. *Have ye not heard this day the voices of the prelates?* etc. Have ye not heard how they all said, they would consent unto the king’s will and pleasure? But these inferiors are they who have had truth, righteousness, and God himself, before their eyes, and they are greatly to be commended for showing themselves such men unto the church of God. But why do I defend the cause of these inferiors, when some will also exclude those bishops, who are but bishops by name and title and have no possession of the church, from our company, not understanding that while they go about to put back those men, they do condemn Peter and the other apostles, who, as it is evident, were long without any great flock; neither was Rome unto Peter, nor Jerusalem unto James, at any time wholly obedient; for at that time no great number of people, but a small flock believed in Christ. For, I pray you, what is that we should require of these bishops? They have no flock; but that is not their fault. They have no revenues; but money maketh not a bishop; and, as the Lord saith, ‘Beati pauperes spiritu,’ that is, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit.’ Neither were there any rich bishops in the primitive church;’neither did the ancient council reject Dionysius, bishop of Milan, Eusebius, bishop of Vercelli, or Hilary, bishop of Poictiers, although they were never so poor, and banished without a flock. But, if we will grant the truth, the poor are more apt to give judgment, than the rich; because riches bring fear, and their poverty causeth liberty. For the poor men do not fear tyranny as our rich men do, who, being given over unto all kind of vanities, idleness, and sloth, will rather deny Christ, than lack their accustomed pleasures; whom not their flock, but their revenues make bishops, delighting so much in riches, that they judge all poor men unhappy. But, as Cicero saith, ‘Nothing can happen better unto a wise man, than mediocrity of substance.’ Whereupon it is written in the gospel, ‘It is easier for a camel to pass through a needle’s eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ But now, to return to a more full declaration of Panormitane’s words, I determine to pass over two points which he propounded in the beginning of his oration, that is,‘Qui petant,’ and ‘cur petant;’ that is, ‘Who make the petition, and for what cause they make their petition.’ We grant that they are great men, and men of power, and, as he doth affirm, that they have deserved good of the church; neither do I doubt but that they are moved thereunto with a sincere affection. But whether it be a small matter that is required, or that the same effects would rise thereupon which he spake of, it is now to be inquired. ‘A delay,’ saith he, ‘is required; a delay for a few days; a small matter; a matter of no importance; a matter easy to be granted.’ Notwithstanding, let Panormitane here mark well, that he requireth a delay in a matter of faith. The verities are already declared: they be already discussed and determined. If now there should be but a little delay, it would grow to a long delay; for oftentimes the delay of one moment, is the loss of a whole year: hereof we have many examples. Hannibal, when he had obtained his victory at Cannae, if he had gone straight unto Rome, by all men’s judgments he had taken the city. But forsomuch as he did defer it until the next day, the Romans having recovered their force again, he was shut out, and deserved to hear this opprobry: ‘Vincere scis Hanibal, uti victoria nescis.’ ‘Hannibal! thou knowest victory to get, But how to use it, thou know’st not yet.’ Likewise the Gauls, 539 after they had taken Rome and besieged the Capitol, while they greedily sought to have great sums of money, and delayed the time in making of their truce, Camillus, coming upon them, did most shamefully drive them out again. But what need I to rehearse old stories, when our own examples are sufficient for us? Ye know yourselves, how often these delays have been hurtful unto you, and how often the delay of a few days hath grown to a long tract of time. For now this is the eighth year that you have spent in delays; and you have seen, that always, of one delay, another hath sprung and risen. Wherefore, I do require that Panormitane should consider, that the conclusion being this day disturbed, we know not whether it will be brought, to pass hereafter again or no; many impediments or lets may arise and spring. Neither doth Panormitane say, that this delay being obtained, he would afterwards consent with his fellows unto the conclusions,—for he denieth that he hath any commandment thereunto; and (which is more to be considered) he saith that the ambassadors, at their return from Mentz, may bring such news, whereby these conclusions may be omitted: as though any thing were more excellent than the truth. This thing doth manifestly declare, that they do not seek delays for the better examination of the matter, but to impugn the conclusions the more strongly. Nor do I agree with Panormitane, as touching the effects which, he said, should arise either of the denial, or granting of the requests; for I see no cause why the princes should greatly require any delay. There are no letters of any prince come unto us touching such request, neither is there any man lately come from them, neither is it greatly material unto them, but that the matters of faith should be determined. But this is a most pernicious conclusion which Panormitane hath made, and not to be looked for at the hands of those most godly princes; where he saith, if we do please them, they will take our part. If, contrariwise, they will decline unto Eugene, and wholly resist and rebel against us. This is a marvellous word, and a wonderful conclusion, altogether unworthy to be spoken of such a man. The decrees of the council of Constance are, that all manner of men, of what state or condition soever they be, are bound to the ordinances and decrees of general councils. But Panormitane’s words do not tend to that effect, for he would not have the princes obedient unto the council, but the council to be obedient unto the princes. Alas! most reverend fathers, alas! what times and days, what manners and conditions are these! 68 Into what misery are we now brought! How shall we at any time bring to pass, that the pope, being Christ’s vicar, and (as they say) another Christ on earth, should be subject unto the council of the Christians, if the council itself ought to obey worldly princes? But I pray you look for no such things at the princes’ hands. Do not believe that they will forsake their mother the church. Do not think them so far alienate from the truth, that they would have justice suppressed. The conclusions whereupon the controversy is, are most true, most holy, most allowable. If the princes do refuse them, they will not resist against us, but against the holy Scriptures, yea, and against Christ himself: the which you ought neither to believe, neither was it comely for Panormitane so to say. Panormitane! (by your license be it spoken) you have uttered most cruel words, neither do you seem to go about any other matter than to inculcate terror and fear into the minds of the fathers; for you have rehearsed great perils and dangers, except we submit ourselves unto the princes. But you, most reverend fathers! shall not be afeard of them that kill the body but the soul cannot kill, neither shall ye forsake the truth, although you should shed your blood for the same. 69 Neither ought we to be any whit more slack in the quarrel of our mother church, and the catholic faith, than those most holy martyrs, who have established the church with their blood. For why should it be any grievous matter unto us to suffer for Christ, who, for our sakes, hath suffered such cruel and grievous death? who, when he was the immortal God, void of all passions, took upon him the shape of a mortal man, and feared not, for our redemption, to suffer torments upon the cross. Set before your eyes, Peter the prince of the apostles, also Paul, Andrew, James, and Bartholomew, and (not to speak only of bishops) mark what Stephen, Laurence, Sebastian, and Fabian did. Some were hanged, some beheaded, some stoned to death, others burned, and others, tormented with most cruel and grievous torments, suffered for Christ’s sake. 70 I pray you, for God’s sake, let us follow the example of these men. If we will be bishops and succeed in honor, let us not fear martyrdom. Alas! what effeminate hearts have we; alas! what a faint hearted people are we. They, in times past, by the contempt of death, converted the whole world, which was full of Gentility and idolatry; and we, through our sluggishness and desire of life, do bring the christian religion out of the whole world into one corner; and I fear greatly, lest the little also which is left we shall lose through our cowardliness, if, by following Panormitane’s mind, we do commit the whole governance and defense of the church unto the princes. But now play the stout and valiant men in this time of tribulation, and fear not to suffer death for the church, which Curtius feared not to do for the city of Rome; which Menoeceus for Thebes, and Codrus for Athens, willingly took upon them. Not only the martyrs, but also the Gentiles might move and stir us to cast off all the fear of the death. What is to be said of Theramenes the Athenian? with how joyful heart and mind, and pleasant countenance, did he drink the poison? What say you unto Socrates, that most excellent philosopher? Did he either weep or sigh, when he supped up the poison? They hoped for that which we are most certain of: not by dying to die, but to change this present life for a better. Truly we ought to be ashamed, being admonished by so many examples, instructed with so great learning, yea and redeemed with the precious blood of Christ, so greatly to fear death. Cato writeth not of one or two men, but of whole legions, which have cheerfully and courageously gone unto those places from whence they knew they should not return. With like courage did the Lacedemonians give themselves to death at Thermopylae, of whom Simonides writeth thus: ‘Dic hospes, Spartanos te hic vidisse jacentes, Dum sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur. ‘Report thou, stranger! the Spartans here to lie, Whiles that their country’s laws they obeyed willingly.’ Neither judge the contrary, but that the Lacedemonians went even of purpose unto death; unto whom their captain Leonidas said, ‘O ye Lacedemonians! go forward courageously, for this day we shall sup together with the infernal gods.’ But I, most reverend fathers! do not invite you unto the infernals, as he did his Lacedemonians, but unto the celestial and everlasting joys of paradise, if that you can suffer death for the truth’s sake, and patiently abide the threatenings of these princes, if there be any threatenings at all. I call you unto that eternal glory, where there is no alteration of state, nothing decayeth or fadeth; where all good things do perpetually abound; where no man wanteth, no man envieth another, no man stealeth from another, no man violently taketh from another, no man banisheth, no man murdereth; and, finally, no man dieth. Where all men are blessed and happy, all are of one mind and one accord, all are immortal, all are of like estate; and what all men have, every man hath, and what every man hath, all men have. Which things if we well consider, we shall truly answer Panormitane, as Theodore of Cyrene 540 is said to have answered Lysimachus the king, when he threatened to hang him, who said: ‘I pray you threaten these horrible things unto your courtiers; as for Theodore, it maketh no matter whether he rot above the ground, or under the ground.’ So likewise let us answer unto the princes, if there be any that do threaten us, and let us not fear their torments. What doth a longer life prevail to help us? No man hath lived too short a time, who hath obtained the perfect gift of virtue. And, if the death which a man suffereth in the quarrel of his country, seemeth not only to be glorious amongst the rhetoricians, but also happy and blessed; what shall we say for these deaths which are sustained for the country of all countries, the church? Truly, most reverend fathers! it is too much that our adversaries do persuade themselves of you, for they judge you fearful, sluggish, and fainthearted; and, therefore, they do object princes unto you, because they think that you will not suffer hunger, thirst, exile, in the quarrel and defense of the church. But I think you will esteem it no hard matter, for the obtaining of everlasting life, to do the same which ship-men do for the obtaining of transitory riches: to put themselves in danger of the sea and wind, and suffer most cruel storms. The hunters lie abroad in the nights in the snow, in the hills and woods, and are tormented with cold; yet have they none other reward, but some wild beast of no value or price. I pray you what ought you then to do, whose reward shall be paradise? I am ashamed of your ignavy, when I read that women, yea even young maidens, have violently obtained heaven through their martyrdom, and we are made afraid only with the name of death. This river Rhine, which runneth alongst the city, in times past hath carried eleven thousand virgins unto martyrdom. 71 In India, as Cicero writeth, when any man is dead, his wives (for there they have many wives) come into contention who should be burned with him; and she whom he loved best, having vanquished the others (all the rest joyfully following her), is cast into the fire with the dead carcase of her husband, and burned. The other, who are overcome, depart full of heaviness and sorrow, wishing rather to have died than live. The which courage we now taking upon us for Christ’s sake, will answer Panormitane even as the Lacedemonians answered Philip, who, when by his letters he threatened them that he would stop all that which they went about, they asked him whether he would also stop them from dying! Therefore, as you are excellent men, so use your virtue, which is always free, and remaineth always invincible. For you do know that power is given of the Lord, and strength from the Most High; who will take account of your works, and examine your thoughts; unto whom ye should be careful to render a good account, judging rightly, and keeping the law of righteousness, and in all things walking according to the will of God, and not according to the will of men. And whereas the ambassadors of Eugene do openly preach and declare a new doctrine, extolling the bishop of Rome above the universal church: to the end that ignorant souls be not snared, ye shall not cease or leave to publish the three first conclusions; following the example of the apostle Paul, who would in no point give place unto Peter, when he walked not according to the gospel. As for the other matters which do only respect the person of Eugene (because Panormitane and the other ambassadors of the princes shall not say that we do pass our bounds), ye shall defer them for this present. When cardinal Arelatensis had made an end of his oration, * 72 there was at first a dead silence, 541 all fixing their eyes on him for admiration: gradually they began to praise, some his memory, some his doctrine; other some saying, that he was without exception the best of presidents, seeing he both knew how to confute objections, and, as it became a president, kept his temper under taunts and reproaches. But the Catalonians, when they saw that all delay was denied them, sought by great noise and brawling to hinder the conclusion of the twelve men from being read, and used all their endeavor that the protest which Panormitane had drawn up, should be read before the conclusion. This matter was not done without violence, *for the president’s commandments were not regarded, neither was the accustomed order observed; for* on every part there was noise, crying out, and brawling; sometimes they spake unto Panormitane, sometimes unto Louis; no man was suffered to speak, but in haste; the bishops brawled with bishops, and the inferiors with their fellows; and all was contention and debate. Which when Louis, the patriarch of Aquileia, perceived (a man of no less courage and stomach, than of nobility and birth, for he was a duke), for the zeal that he bare unto the universal church, turning himself unto Panormitane and Louis, the prothonotary, he said, “Do not think the matter shall so pass; you know not yet the manners of the Germans; for if you go forward on this fashion, it will not be allowed you to depart this country without broken heads.” With which words Panormitane, Louis, and the archbishop of Milan, being struck, as it were, with lightning from heaven, rose up, and said, “Is our liberty taken from us? What meaneth it that the patriarch doth threaten us, that our heads should be broken?” And, turning themselves unto John, earl of Diernstein, who then supplied the protector’s place, they demanded of him, whether he would defend the council, and maintain them all in their liberty, or no? The members, also, of the town senate were present, to provide that no offense should rise; for the citizens always observed the custom of being present in all affairs which they supposed would breed dissension; and took every precaution, that no tumults should rise, otherwise than with words: and they are a people of such wisdom and strict principle, that no man unto this day could have any cause to complain against them for having violated their promise. Wherefore, if at any time any citizens have deserved well at the hands of the church, surely this praise is to be given unto the Basilians. These men, together with John, earl of Diernstein, being present in the assembly of the fathers, intimated that their liberty should be maintained. The earl (albeit he was moved at the strangeness of the matter, for he would not have thought so great contentions could have risen amongst wise men) answered by his interpreter, That they should all be of good cheer, for the emperor’s safe-conduct should be observed and kept even to the uttermost; neither should the patriarch, nor any other, be so hardy once to violate the liberty, or take away the assurance, granted by the emperor. Notwithstanding, he desired the patriarch that he would call back his words again, and not speak any more in such sort. But that famous father, in all his affairs and business declaring the nobility of his stock, being nothing at all moved or troubled, committed the explanation of his real meaning to John Bachenstein, auditor of the chamber, a man both grave and eloquent, whose assistance the council had used in divers ambassades; who affirmed that it was not the patriarch’s intention to threaten any man, or disturb the liberty of the council, but to move the fathers unto constancy, that they should be mindful of the reformation which they had promised unto the whole world, and not say one thing today, and another to-morrow; for, if they would so do, it were to be feared, lest the laity, seeing themselves deluded, and despairing of reformation, should rise against the clergy. Therefore he did admonish the fathers to foresee and provide for the peril, that they should not depart from the council without anything being determined or done; and, finally, he desired pardon, if in his words he had offended either against the council, Panormitane, or any other man. Whereby he proved the truth of that which is commonly said, “That Humility is the sister of Nobility:” both which did very excellently appear in this man. Yet, for all this, could not the humility of the patriarch stop or stay their noise or cries; for, as often as mention was made of reading the ‘Concordatum,’ great noise and rumors were still made to stop the same. Then Amedeus, archbishop of Lyons, and primate of all France, a man of great reverence and authority, being touched with zeal for the faith, which he saw there to be stopped and suppressed, said: THE ORATION OF AMEDEUS, ARCHBISHOP OF LYONS. Most reverend fathers! I have now a great occasion to speak, for it is now seven years or more that I have been amongst you, yet have I never seen any thing like unto a miracle, as now; but now I do behold stupendous signs of miracles: for is it no small matter that the lame do walk, the dumb do speak, and that poor men preach the gospel? Whereupon, I pray you, cometh this sudden change? how happeneth it that those who lay lurking at home, are now suddenly started up? who hath given hearing to the deaf, and speech to the dumb? who hath taught the poor to preach the gospel? I do see here a new sort of prelates come in, who, unto this present, have kept silence, but now begin to speak. Is not this like a miracle? I would to God, however, they came to defend the truth, and not to impugn justice. But this is more to be marvelled at than any miracle, that I do see the best learned men of all impugn our conclusions, which are certain and most true, and were in times past allowed by the very persons who now reprove them. We have not yet forgotten, how that Louis, the prothonotary, preached these verities at Louvaine and at Cologne, and brought them from thence, confirmed with the authorities of those universities. 73 But, albeit he be now changed, yet is the truth in no point altered. And, therefore, I desire and beseech you all, that ye will not give ear unto these men, who, albeit they are most excellently learned, yet have not that constancy in them, which doth adorn all other virtues. When he had ended his oration, Louis, the prothonotary, rising up, said, “It is most true that I brought those verities; but you do call them verities of faith, the which addition seemeth to me rather doubtful.” When he had spoken these words, cardinal Arelatensis required that the ‘Concordatum’ of the twelve men should be read, and many whispered him in the ear, that he should go forward, and not alter his purpose. Then Panormitane, as soon as the ‘Concordatum’ began to be read, rising up with his colleagues and the Arragons, cried out with a loud voice, saying, “You fathers do contemn our requests, you contemn kings and princes, and despise prelates; but take heed lest, whiles that ye despise all men, you be not despised of all men. You would conclude, but it is not your part to conclude. We are the greater part of the prelates; we make the council; and it is our part to conclude; and I, in the name of the prelates do conclude, that the matter is to be deferred.” At this word there sprang as great a noise in the council, as is accustomed to be heard in battle with the sound of trumpets and noise of horsemen, when two armies join; some execrating that which Panormitane had done, other some allowing the same; so that diversity of minds made divers contentions. Then Nicholas Amici, 543 the divine of Paris, in virtue of his office, said, “Panormitane! I appeal from this your conclusion, to the judgment of the council here present; neither do I affirm any thing to be ratified which you have done; as I am ready to prove, if it shall seem good.” The adverse part seemed now to be in the better place, for they had already concluded. The other part had neither concluded, neither was it seen how they could conclude amongst so great cries and uproars. Notwithstanding, amongst all this troublous noise, John de Segovia, the eminent divine of the university of Salamanca, gained an audience, for the whole council was desirous to hear him; wherefore all men, as soon as he rose up, kept silence, and he, perceiving that they were desirous to hear him speak, began in this sort: THE ORATION OF SEGOVIUS. Most reverend fathers! the zeal and love of the house of God forceth me now to speak: and I would to God that I had been either blind this day, not to have seen those things which have happened, or that I had been deaf, that I should not have heard those words which have been spoken. Who is there so stony or hardhearted, that he can abstain from tears, when the authority of the church is so impaired, liberty taken away both from us and the council, and that there is no place given unto truth? O sweet Jesu! why hast thou so forsaken thy spouse! Behold and look upon thy people, and help us, if our requests are just! We come hither to provide for the necessity of the church; we ask nothing for ourselves, and our desire is only that truth might appear. We trusted now to have concluded upon the verities, which have been already allowed in the sacred deputations. The orators of the princes present, and require the conclusions to be deferred. But we be not unmindful of those things which Ambrose wrote unto the emperor Valentinian, in this manner: ‘If we peruse the declarations of the holy Scripture and the sentiments of past ages, who is it that will deny but that in a matter of faith (I say, in a matter of faith), the bishops ought to judge upon christian emperors, and not emperors upon bishops?’ We cannot admit their petition, and that for the most urgent reasons. Notwithstanding, we heard them patiently and willingly, whiles that they did speak, even so long as they would. But now, if any on our part would speak, by-and-by he is interrupted, troubled, and letted. What honesty is this? what modesty or gravity? Is it lawful so to do in a council? What hath now become of the decree of the council of Toledo? 544 Where are our decrees, which do not only prohibit tumults, but also the least talking together? They say, it is because we contemn them; but it is they, who not only contemn the council, but also resist the same. The patriarch spake but one small word against them, and that of no evil intent or purpose, and by-and-by they complained that their liberty was broken: but they, when they do enforce the council, when they forbid the president to speak, and will not suffer the ordinances to he read, do not judge that they at all go contrary to the liberty of the council. They say, they are the council themselves, and yet they entreat the council. These things do not I understand; for if they be the council, why do they entreat themselves? If they be not the council, why do they not suffer the council to speak? Why do they not look for an answer of him to whom they make their petitions? Truly this is too much violence, and, certes, our patience is also too much, to suffer such excess even in the face of the church. *We 74 are they, from whom the liberty is taken. But they say, that the inferiors ought not to judge any thing, and that we ought not to transact any matter with a minority of bishops on our side, albeit we be the majority of the council. The which if it were true, many of your own decrees should be of no force, and specially that which ye have promulgated as touching provincial and episcopal synods; which since it did not please the prelates, the cardinal of St. Angelo, then president (with scarcely five bishops and the majority of the inferiors on his side), did conclude, albeit that many bishops were against him; which decree, notwithstanding, you do account of great force and strength: the like also hath happened almost in all decrees, which do bridle the pomp or ambition of the bishops. Moreover, ye have for example, that on the arrival of Alexander, abbot of Vezelai, 545 who was the first that came to this place, the council commenced, when there was no bishop as yet come, as Eugene doth confess in his act of adhesion: wherefore that which these men say, is to no other purpose, but only utterly to subvert the council. But that point is sufficiently answered by the cardinal Arelatensis. Notwithstanding this one thing I would desire to obtain at the bishops’ hands; that if they would have us grant that they succeed the apostles and have the keys of the kingdom of heaven, that they would themselves grant that which is spoken by the apostle: That Christ, when he ascended into heaven, did institute some apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to the work of the ministry and the edification of his church. And, as the bishops do succeed the apostles, so we divines do succeed the doctors, and the presbyters the pastors; and all other in their degrees: and our Savior would have his church governed jointly by them all. Wherefore, it seemeth vain, that which these men speak, as touching the excluding of the inferiors.* But this doth most of all grieve me, and this do I most marvel at, that Panormitane, a man of singular wit and learning, did conclude without any discussing of the deputations, and without the examination of the twelve men, and any scrutiny or order; which, except mine eyes had beheld and seen, I would scarcely believe, if any other man had reported it unto me of him. Neither do I yet know whether I can credit my own testimony, the matter seemeth so horrible; for I do not see by what authority his conclusion doth stand, except it be by the authority of his king, who, he saith, ‘will have it so.’ But you, most reverend fathers! take heed that ye bring in no such custom; for so it shall come to pass, that in all matters, a few froward prelates shall have one,to conclude for them. 75 For 76 it is more dangerous than the pernicious decree which ye are wont to call ‘Parvum,’ which the legates of the apostolic see, and others their accomplices, did propound in the deputations, having a certain number of votes, knowing who were with them, and who would be against them. But this is done in confusion, which, if it pass unpunished, it will cause greater offense than that did; and it shall come to pass that, in all matters, a few froward prelates shall have one to conclude for them. Ye know, moreover, that it is only the president’s part to conclude; and that, but in one case only, the conclusion devolveth unto another, that is, when those who are presidents will not conclude according to the will of three or four deputations, or the concordance of twelve men; which, whether it have now happened, you yourselves do see, and Panormitane himself, who hath made the conclusion, very well knoweth? And, albeit Panormitane hath proved (as he thinketh) by strong reasons, that the verities ought to be deferred, yet, notwithstanding, I do require you, most reverend fathers! to follow the example of the apostle, who, as Arelatensis hath very well declared, would not give place for one hour unto Peter, when he swerved from the truth of the gospel. The faith is speedily to be relieved and holpen; neither doth any thing sustain more danger by delays, than faith doth. For all heresies, except they be rooted out at the first, when they are full grown, are hard to take away. Wherefore, I desire you speedily to help:— “Ferte cito auxilium, date vela, impellite remos. i.e. ‘Speedily help and aid, hoise up your sails, and launch out your oars.’ Why should we tarry looking for either the prelates or the princes? *There 77 is none other power or authority to be sought for, where the Divine Majesty is present. They of Eugene’s sect preach heresies in every place:yet is there no man who sayeth unto them, that they should stay or leave off. But against you, who do intend to publish and set forth the truth, a thousand do murmur that you should hold your peace; which is a great sign and token of your soundness. It is reported, that in times past Benedict, a holy monk, did visit a certain monastery of holy men, and did see there an infinite number of devils contending with the holy fathers, and striving to perturb their good works. By-and-by he saw one devil alone, all sad and heavy, going unto a fair, where were a great many people buying and selling; whereat Benedict greatly marvelling, that the holy place, appointed for prayer, should be so full of devils, and the place that was occupied only with sin and perjury should be kept but with one devil, adjured him to tell him the cause thereof. The devil answered, that the holy place needed more the assaults of devils, than that place where men sinned of their own wills; for there, there was no great need of devilish deceit. The like thereof seemeth unto me to be happened unto the Eugenians.* You are now in conflict; I only desire that you would hasten unto the victory. Regard not the threatenings of those princes, neither the opprobries of those contumelious persons: ‘For you are blessed,’ saith the Lord, ‘when men curse you and persecute you, speaking all evil against you, making lies and slanders upon you for my sake; rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven.’ Why is it, I pray you, that the princes are made such a formidable objection? Is not our Lord God able to take us out of the furnace of hot burning fire, and deliver us out of the hands of those princes? I beseech you, most reverend fathers and loving brethren, have no less hope in Jesu Christ, than Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had, who feared not that old king Nebuchadnezzar; and let the princes know, That the most highest ruleth over the kingdoms of men, and giveth them unto whom he pleaseth. 78 God beholdeth all things from above. He is, I say, in the midst amongst us.—Wherefore are ye then afraid? Be of good courage, and show yourselves as a strong wall for the church of God. Suffer not the faith to perish under your hands. The Almighty God is present with you. He is present that will defend you. Fear not those who seek only to kill the body. Do justice and equity, and be assured that he will not deliver you over into the hands of the backbiter and slanderer. Again I say unto you, show yourselves valiant and stout; defend your mother the church! And unto thee, O thou president! I say, that thou oughtest rather to please God than man; for if thou depart hence without a final conclusion, know assuredly that thou shalt render account in the strict judgment of God. And thus, without any more words, he sat down in his place. In the mean time, many grave and ancient men had exhorted Panormitane that he should give over his conclusion. The bishop of Burgos was very instant and earnest with him, that he should make unity and concord amongst the fathers, and went about to make peace amongst all men. But neither were the fathers of the council disposed to depart without a conclusion; neither was Panormitane minded to alter his intent and purpose. *During 79 this contention, the archbishop of Lyons, having gotten opportunity to be heard, said that Panormitane’s conclusion was of no force, neither needed any revocation, because it was of no force; notwithstanding, he thought a delay would be profitable, if peradventure that, as the bishop of Burgos had said, a concord might be arranged amongst the fathers. His oration was not very acceptable unto Panormitane’s companions, who as soon as they heard their conclusion to be nothing regarded, they contrariwise affirmed, that it was of force, and that they made the council: whereupon there was so great a noise and cry, that nothing could be heard that was read. On that day there was great terror and fear of all good men, lest that the adversaries should prevail, more than the council. The matter seemed to be in great danger, lest the adversaries, persevering in their obstinacy, should prolong their talk until night; which thing alone they seemed to go about, that thereby they might have the victory that day: but God did help his church, and would not suffer that Eugene should more prevail in the council than the council itself.* All things were disturbed, neither did the prelates sit in their seats, as they were accustomed, but as every man’s affection led him. Some went to the cardinal Arelatensis, some unto Panormitane, and exhorted them as if they had been princes or rulers of armies. *Now 80 it drew toward night, and the bishop of Lausanne, a wise and circumspect man, and Nicholas bishop of Grossetto, a man who had the welfare of the council at heart more than his own, went unto the cardinal Arelatensis, threatening him, in ease he should rise without a final conclusion. Also Francis de Foix, and Andrew Escobar, commonly called ‘the Spaniard,’ 546 divines of the Franciscan order, were ever and anon whispering in the ears of the cardinal, and would suffer him to take no pause; also Laurence de Rocella was importunate upon him, saying, “Why stoppest thou, now, president? where is thy mind? where are thy wits? what fearest thou? what dreamest thou?” * But he, knowing the matter to be in danger, and that there was no ready way to make a conclusion, thought to use some policy to appease the tumult. “Most reverend fathers!” said he, “we have received new letters out of France, which declare unto me marvellous things; there are incredible mischiefs sprung up there, which, if you will kindly give me audience, I will declare unto you.” By this means there was a sudden silence throughout the whole council, and by this marvellous policy he made all men attentive to hear. When he saw he had free liberty to speak, 547 he revealed the contents of the said letters, whether real or pretended, and, with all the address of an orator, came by little and little to the principal point, saying, That Eugene’s messengers filled all France, preaching a new doctrine, and extolling the authority of the bishop of Rome above general councils; against whom except speedy remedy were found, it would come to pass that many would give credit unto them: and, therefore, the sacred council ought of necessity to provide remedy, and of necessity to conclude upon the verities which were examined, that thereby the temerity of the Eugenians might be repressed; which verities, albeit they were eight in number, yet was it not the fathers’ intent to conclude upon them all, but only upon the three first: “even as I also,” saith he, “here do conclude, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” When he had finished his oration, with a cheerful and merry countenance rising up, he departed, greatly commended and praised of all his partakers: some of them kissed him, and some of them kissed the skirts of his garments. A great number followed him, and greatly commended his wisdom, that, being a Frenchman born, he had that day vanquished the Italians, who were men of consummate tact. Howbeit this was all men’s opinion, that it was done rather by the operation of the Holy Ghost, than by the cardinal’s own power. The other of the contrary faction, as men bereft of their minds, hanging down their heads, departed every man to his lodging. They went not together, neither saluted one another, so that their countenances declared unto every man that they were defeated. Something more also is reported of Panormitane, that when he came to his lodging, and was gone unto his chamber, he complained with himself upon his king, who had compelled him to strive against the truth, and put him in danger of losing both his soul and good name; and that in the midst of his tears and complaints he fell asleep, and did eat no meat until late in the evening, for very sorrow for that he had neither ignorantly, neither willingly, impugned the truth. After this there was great consultation amongst the Eugenians, what were best to be done in this matter. *The 81 same day the cardinal of Tarragona returned to Basil, a man of excellent wisdom and learning, who, at the time the bands of Armagnac came, had gone away 549 a distance of two days’ journey, and, forsomuch as he could not be present at the general congregation, the Catalonians and Lombards went straightway to him, devising and counselling many things with him.* Some thought good to depart and leave the council, other some thought it meeter to tarry, and withal endeavor to prevent any thing further being done against Eugene: and this opinion they adopted. The next day, being Saturday, the twenty-fifth day of April, 550 the archbishop of Lyons and the bishop of Burgos, calling together the prelates in the chapter-house of the great church, began many things as touching peace. The bishop of Burgos advised, that there should be deputations appointed that day, unto whom the archbishop of Lyons should give power to make an agreement. Unto whom answer was made, as they thought—very roughly, but as others judged—gently, but notwithstanding justly and truly; for the fathers of the council said, There could be no concord before the adversaries confessed their fault, and asked pardon there-for. On the day following, being Sunday, the said bishop of Burgos, with the Lombards and Catalonians, went unto the Germans, and from thence unto the senate of the city, urging them much, if possible, to prevent a schism. The Germans, as I did afterward understand, declared they should abide by what the deputations should determine. The senate of the city (as they were men of great wisdom, who would do nothing without diligent counsel and deliberation) answered: That the matter belonged not unto them, but unto the council, the fathers whereof were most wise men, and were not ignorant what pertained unto the christian faith; and if there were any danger to ward against, it should be declared unto the council, and not to the senate. For they believed that the elders of the council, if they were premonished, would foresee that there should no hurt happen: as for the senate of the city, it was their duty only to defend the fathers, and to preserve the public faith of the city.—With this answer the bishop of Burgos departed. In the mean time the fathers of the council had drawn out a form of a decree upon the former conclusions, and had had the same approved in the sacred deputations; only the Common deputation thought the decree might be improved. 551 By this time the princes’ orators had all returned from the assembly at Mentz, and, taking counsel amongst themselves, had determined to hinder the decree. On Saturday, the ninth day of May, there was a general convocation holden, whereunto all men resorted, either part addressing itself to the conflict. The princes’ ambassadors were called by the bishop of Lubeck and Conrad de Winsperg, the protector, into the quire, and there kept; where they intreated of a unity, and by what means it might be had. And there they tarried longer than one would have thought; which circumstance, unexpectedly, gave a happy issue to the whole business. For, the form of the decree must needs be concluded that day: wherefore, as soon as cardinal Arelatensis perceived the congregation to be full, and that the twelve men had agreed, and that all were waiting in silent expectation, he thought good not to delay, for fear of tumult; but commanded by-and-by the public concordances to be read, wherein this was also contained, that the cardinal Arelatensis might appoint a session whensoever he would. Which being read, he, being desired by the promoters, concluded in the usual manner, the ambassadors of the princes being yet in the quire; who as soon as they understood how the matter was disposed of, being very much vexed, they brake off their talk, imputing all the blame to the bishop of Lubeck, as though he of purpose had kept them in the quire and had spun out the talk. Whereupon, they, entering into the congregation, filled the church full of complaints. First of all, however, the bishop of Lubeck complained both in his own name and in the name of the protector and of all, as touching the conclusion, and required that the council should revoke the same. If that might be granted, he promised to intreat a peace, and to be a protector between the council and the ambassadors of the princes. But the archbishop of Tours said, That it seemed unto him, that every man should have free liberty to speak against that law which was to be promulgated, until the session; since then the canons would be consecrated and receive their force, when the bishops in their copes, after the reading of the decree in the session, had answered thereto ‘Placet:’ otherwise, the demand which was made by the promoters in the session was but vain. And for that the conclusions were not yet allowed in the session, therefore, he said that he might, without rebuke, speak somewhat as touching the same; and that it was a great and hard matter, and not to be knit up in such a short time, and that he had but just then obtained any knowledge of them; whereas he, being an archbishop, ought to have a perfect knowledge of the matter, that at his return home, he might inform the king, and also instruct those who were under him; and that he and his fellows wished, before any session should be, both to hear and be heard of others. Neither did it seem proper to him, that the session should be holden, before report were made of those things which the ambassadors of the princes had done at Mentz, which would peradventure be such as might alter the minds of the fathers. Then the bishop of Cuenca, ambassador of the king of Castile, who was also lately returned from Mentz, a man of great understanding, but lacking utterance, grievously complained that the prelates were contemned. “Neither had it been,” said he, “any great matter if they had been tarried for; who had been to Mentz, not without great danger and expense, not for their own pleasure, but of necessity.” And afterward, smiling, he said: “How mad am I, that would have the prelates to be tarried for until they returned from Mentz, when they are not tarried for, whiles they can come out of the quire of the church! Do therefore as ye list. If there rise any offense or mischief hereupon, neither are we, the ambassadors of Castile, to be blamed, neither can any man, of right, impute any thing to our most noble king.” Here were it long to repeat, with what rebukes and taunts they inveighed against the cardinal Arelatensis; but especially the archbishop of Milan railed most cruelly upon him, saying, That he fostered and maintained a rabble of copists and paedagogues, 552 82 and that he had concluded in matters of faith with them; calling him also another Catiline, with whom all desperate and naughty persons took refuge: that he was their prince, and ruled the church with them; and that he would not give ear unto the ambassadors of the most noble princes, or to the most famous prelates, in this most weighty matter. The bishop of Albenga, likewise, a man of great nobility, descended of the emperor’s blood, albeit he never had his mind alienate before from the council, yet, lest he should seem to dissent from the other ambassadors of the princes, made the like complaint touching the contempt of the prelates. After this it came unto Panormitane to speak, who, as he had a greater vehemency in speaking, so also he did declare a more angry stomach and mind; for, in the beginning of his oration, he seemed not to go about, according to the precept of orators, to get the good-will of the hearers, but rather their hatred. For he said, “Our Savior showed four signs in the gospel, whereby we should know the good from the reprobate; for, ‘He which is of God,’ saith he, ‘heareth the words of God; but ye hear not the words of God, because ye are not of God;’ and again, ‘He that doth evil hateth the light;’ and, in another place also, ‘By their fruits ye shall know them;’ and ‘A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit.’ All which sayings he wrested against the fathers of the council, that they would not hear the words of God, that is to say, the words of peace which the ambassadors had spoken; that they fled from the light, concluding privily and in the absence of the ambassadors; and that, in their deputation, they had not kept the holy day, 83 but had concluded thereupon; also that they had the upper hand in the aforesaid conclusion, not by reason, but by deceit. As touching fruits, he said, That the fathers themselves should meditate and consider how that, if their fruits were not good, they also themselves were not good; and that he did see another council at hand, where he feared lest these conclusions should be revoked, as the fruit of an evil tree; and, therefore, that they ought not so suddenly to proceed in so weighty matters; and that he would be yet more fully heard before the session, as well in his own name, because he was an archbishop, as in the name of his prince, who reigned not over one kingdom alone, but over many. Also he said, That he, heretofore, by his words, deeds, and writings, had extolled the authority of the council; and that he feared, lest, by these means, the authority thereof should be subverted. Finally, he begged pardon if he offended the fathers of the council, forsomuch as very sorrow and grief forced him to speak so. Then the abbot of Vezelai would have made answer to those things which Panormitane had touched, concerning his deputation; but Arelatensis thought good that all the contrary part should speak first, amongst whom, last of all, Louis, the prothonotary, the Homer of lawyers, rose up. And albeit that he spake unwillingly, yet when he had begun, he could not restrain his words. And whiles he went about to seem learned and eloquent, he utterly forgat to be good. He said, That the council ought to take heed, not to intreat any matter of faith against the will of the prelates, lest any offense should follow; for that some would say, it were a matter of no force or effect. For, albeit that Christ chose twelve apostles and seventy disciples, notwithstanding, in the setting forth of the Creed only the apostles were present; thereby, as it were, giving example that matters of faith did pertain only unto the apostles, and so consequently unto bishops: neither that they ought hastily to proceed in a matter of faith, which ought to be clearly distinct, forsomuch as Peter affirmeth the trial of faith to be much more precious than gold, which is tried by the fire: and, if the bishops be contemned, who are called the pillars and keys of heaven, the faith cannot seem to be well proved or examined. But at length he confessed that the inferiors might determine with the bishops, but denied that the least part of the bishops with the most part of the inferiors might determine any thing. From thence passing to the matter of faith, he said, That the verities in question would be articles of faith, if they were verities of faith. And, forsomuch as every man was bound to believe articles of faith, therefore all would be bound to believe those verities, and therefore he wished to be better instructed and taught in that matter which he was to believe as an article of faith; neither would it be comely for the council to deny him his request, which, according to the rule of the apostle, ought to be ready to give account unto every man who shall ask a reason of the faith which it holdeth. After every man had made an end of speaking, the cardinal Arelatensis, collecting himself, made an oration, wherein he answered now the one, and now the other. And, first of all, he commended the desires of the imperial ambassadors, who offered to intreat a peace and unity; but neither necessity required, nor honesty, he said, would suffer, that what had been concluded should be revoked. He answered also, That the petition of the ambassadors of France was most just, in that they required to be instructed touching the faith; and that the council would grant their request, and send unto them certain divines, who should instruct them at home at their lodgings. But the matter was already concluded, and could no more be brought into question; that the session was only holden, rather to beautify the matter, than to confirm the same. And, as touching that which the bishop of Cuenca so greatly complained of, he did not much marvel; for he could not know the process of the matter, when he was absent; who, being better instructed, he supposed would speak no more any such words, forsomuch as a just man would require no unjust thing. Also, that there was no harm in his protestation; and that he would not have it imputed either unto him, or unto his king, if any offense should rise upon the conclusions. Notwithstanding, it was not to be feared, that any evil would spring of good works. But, unto the archbishop of Milan he would answer nothing, because he saw him so moved and troubled, for fear of multiplying more grievous and heinous words. As for Panormitane, he reserved him unto the last; but unto Louis the prothonotary, who desired to be instructed, he said, He willed him to be satisfied with the words which were spoken unto the archbishop of Tours. Notwithstanding, he left not that untouched which Louis had spoken concerning the Apostles’ Creed: “For, albeit that in the setting forth of the Creed the apostles be only named, yet it doth not follow,” saith he, “that they only were present at the setting forth thereof: for it happeneth oftentimes, that princes are commended and praised as chief authors and doers of things, when, notwithstanding, they had other helpers; as it appeareth in battles, which although they are fought with the force of all the soldiers, yet the victory thereof is imputed but unto a few. As in these our days they do ascribe all things which the army doth either fortunately or wisely, unto Nicolas of Picenum, that most excellent captain, who hath obtained so many famous victories; albeit that, oftentimes, others have been the inventors of the policy, and workers of the feat. And, therefore, Louis ought to know and understand, that not only are they articles of faith which are contained in the Creed, but also all other determinations made by general councils touching faith. ‘Neither is he ignorant, that there be some articles of that Creed which we now use in the church, that were not put in by the apostles, but afterward by general councils; as that part, wherein mention is made of the procession of the Holy Ghost, which the council of Lyons did add; in which council, also, it is not to be doubted, but that the inferiors did decide together with the bishops.” But, forsomuch as he had sufficiently declared that matter in the congregation before passed, he would dwell no longer thereupon: but coming unto Panormitane, he rehearsed his words, “Qui ex Deo est, verba Dei audit;” “He that is of God, heareth God’s words;” which was well cited out of the gospel, he said, but not well applied unto the council; for he firmly believed what the ancient fathers supposed, viz. that the Holy Ghost was present in councils; and that, therefore, the words of the councils were the words of the Holy Ghost, which if any man did reject, he denied himself to be of God. Neither did the council “hate the light,” seeing it did all things publicly and openly, and that its congregations were open unto all men; neither did it, as some conventicles of the adversaries, admit some, and exclude others. Moreover, the thing which was now in hand began to be intreated of two months ago; and, first, the conclusions were largely disputed upon in the divinity schools, and afterward sent unto Mentz and other parts of the world. After all this (the cardinal proceeded) the fathers were called into the chapter-house of the great church, to the number of a hundred-and-twenty; amongst whom Panormitane, who now complaineth, was also present, and, according to his custom, did learnedly and subtilely dispute, and had liberty to speak what he would. Likewise again in the deputations every man spake his mind freely; and in that deputation where Panormitane was, the matter was three days discussed. After this the twelve men did agree upon it, and the general congregation did conclude it: neither had there been, at any time, any thing more ripely or diligently handled; every thing, too, had been done openly, without any fraud or deceit. And as for the deputation having sat upon a holy day, there was no harm in that; neither was it any new or strange thing, forsomuch as they had often holden their sessions on Sundays and other holy days, when the matter required haste, and especially forsomuch as a matter of faith hath no holy days. And further he said, That he did not conclude craftily and deceitfully in the congregation aforesaid, as Panormitane had asserted, but publicly and openly, at the request of the promoters: neither had any man any just cause to complain of him, forsomuch as when he was made president, he was sworn, that always, when the four or only three deputations did agree, he would conclude thereupon. 84 And, forsomuch as he had already concluded in divers causes touching the pope, he saw no cause why he should not conclude in a matter of faith; for that he was a cardinal, and did wear his red hat as a token, that he should even shed his blood in the defense of the faith. 85 Neither had he done any thing now against the pope, for that, omitting the five conclusions touching Eugene, he had concluded only on the three general ones; which except he had done, the fathers who had chosen him their president in confidence of his honor and integrity would have just cause of complaint against him, if they should now be forsaken by him in this most important cause of faith. And, turning himself unto the multitude, he desired the fathers to be of good comfort, forsomuch as he would never forsake them, yea, although he should suffer death; for he had given his faith and fidelity unto the council, which he would observe and keep; neither should any man’s threats or entreaties put him from his purpose: that he would be always ready to do whatsoever the council should command him, and never by any means leave the commandments of the deputations unperformed. As touching that Panormitane had extolled the authority of the council, 553 he said, that he was greatly to be thanked. But yet, he ought to understand and know the authority of the council to be such as could not be increased by any man’s praises, or be diminished by any man’s opprobry or slander. These things thus premised, he commanded the form of the decree to be read. Then Panormitane, and those who took his part, would needs have a certain protestation to be first read, and for some time there was nothing but uproar on all sides. Notwithstanding, at last Arelatensis prevailed, and the form of the decree was read unto this word ‘Decernimus;’ that is to say, ‘We decree.’ Then Panormitane, rising up, would not suffer it to be heard any further: and the bishop of Catania cried out, saying, That it was uncomely that Arelatensis, with a few 554 other bishops (and those mostly titulars) should conclude the matter. The like did also all those who favored Panormitane. The cardinal of Tarragona, also (who until that time had holden his peace), did grievously rebuke his party, for that, as if they had been asleep or dreaming, they did not read the protestation; and commanded by-and-by one of his familiars to read it. But, like as the adversaries before did disturb the reading of the concordances, so would not the fathers of the council now give place to the reading of the protestation. Which when the bishop of Albenga did consider, he commanded the writing to be brought unto him for to read, and as he began to speak, suddenly Arelatensis rose up, with a great number of the fathers, to depart; which thing pleased the cardinal of Tarragona and Panormitane very well, for they hoped that they alone, with their adherents, should remain in the church. They exhorted Arelatensis to revoke the conclusion, and to make another. There was in the congregation, in his place, one George, the prothonotary of Bardaxina, sitting somewhat beneath his uncle, the cardinal of Tarragona; a man but young of age, but grave in wisdom, and noble in humanity, who, as soon as he saw the cardinal Arelatensis rise, determined also to depart, and when his uncle called him, commanding him to tarry, he said,” God forbid, father, that I should tarry in your conventicle, or do any thing contrary to the oath which I have taken.” By which words he declared his excellent virtue and nobility, and admonished our men who remained, what course they ought to follow. His voice was the voice of the Holy Ghost, and no words can be conceived more in season. For if he had not spoken that word, the fathers of the council had, peradventure, departed, and gone their way; and the others remaining in the church had made another conclusion, which they would have affirmed to have been of force, because they would say the last conclusion was to be received. But many, being warned by the words of the prothonotary, and calling to remembrance the like chance of other councils before, called back again the multitude who were departing, and cried out upon the cardinal and the patriarch to sit down again, and that they should not leave the church free and quiet for their adversaries. Whereupon, suddenly, all the whole multitude sat down, and the gates were shut again. In the mean time Matthew, the bishop of Albenga, read the protestation to none else but to himself, for it could not be heard for noise; which being ended, the Lombards and the Catalonians confirmed the, protestation. When the cardinal of Tarragona said, That he did, agree to their dissension, they marvelled at that saying; and when some smiled and laughed at him, “What,” said he, “ye fools! do ye mock me? do not the ambassadors of my king dissent from you? why do you marvel then, if I do say I consent unto their dissension?” And with these words he, and almost all the Arragons, Lombards, and Castilians, 556 departed; all the others tarried still. And albeit it was somewhat late (for it was past two in the afternoon), Arelatensis, seeing the congregation quiet, commanded the affairs of private persons to be read, as the manner is; which being ended, he commanded also the public affairs to be read, and willed the conclusions and the form of the decree to be read again. There remained in the congregation the ambassadors of the empire and, of France, talking together of their affairs. Notwithstanding, the archbishop of Tours heard mention made of the conclusions, and turning himself to the bishop of Lubeck, said, “Lo! the matters of faith are now in hand again; let us go hence, I pray you, that we be not an offense unto others, or that we be not said to dissent from the other ambassadors.” To whom the bishop of Lubeck answered, “Tarry, father! tarry here; are not the conclusions most true? Why are you afraid to be here for the truth?” These words were not heard by many, for they spake them softly between themselves. NotwithstandingI86 heard them, for I, sitting at their feet, did diligently observe what they said. Arelatensis, after all things were read which he thought necessary, at the request of the promoters 555 concluded; and so, making an end, dismissed the congregation. Thus the cardinal twice (as we have seen) concluded, with great difficulty, forsomuch as neither the matter, nor the form, could be concluded without dissension; and either conclusion was miraculous, 87 and past all men’s hope; but was obtained by the industry of Arelatensis, or rather by the special gift of the Holy Ghost. *And 88 therefore it is reported that Panormitane afterwards, going out of the church, turning himself unto his friends said both in Latin and in Italian, “And twice!” meaning, thereby, that his part had either been twice overthrown or twice deceived; for he spake it not without great anger.* After this, it was determined between the Lombards and the Arragons to abstain from the deputations for a certain time, which they did not long observe; notwithstanding, the deputations were holden very quietly for a certain space, neither was there any thing done worthy of remembrance until the fifteenth day of May; during which time, all means possible were sought to set a concord between the fathers; but it would not be. When Friday was come, being the Ides of May, Nicholas Amici, proctor of the faith, was called into the congregation, and briefly rehearsed those things which were done the previous days, and explained that Arelatensis could appoint a session. Wherefore he required that, forsomuch as delay in matters of faith was dangerous, a session should be appointed for the morrow after, requiring the cardinal, in regard to his title, which signifieth a Hinge of the Church, and the other bishops, in regard to the promises made at their consecration, that they would not now desert the church in these weighty affairs, and suffer the faith to be oppressed; but the inferiors he required, upon their oath which they had taken, to show themselves faithful and constant herein. Then, again, there fell a great contention upon these words; for Arelatensis, as he was required, did appoint a session, and exhorted all to be there present in their robes. The bishop of Lubeck, rising up, made a protestation in his own name, and also in the name of the protector: That he would not consent that there should be any session, if it should in any part derogate from the agreement had at Mentz. Georgius Miles also, his fellow ambassador, concurred in this protestation. When the protector of the council, appointed by the emperor, understood himself to be named by the bishop of Lubeck, he marvelled awhile what the matter should be. But, being certified by an interpreter, he answered: That he would in no case concur in the protestation of the bishop of Lubeck, and that he did not know any thing of their doings at Mentz; also that he was sent by the emperor to the sacred council, and had his charge which he did well remember, and would be obedient thereunto. After whom the bishop of Cuenca, according to his accustomed manner, made his protestation: after whom also followed Panormitane; whose words I will repeat, first desiring that no man would marvel that I make mention so often of Panormitane; for it is necessary to declare the matter, in order, as it was done. And it happeneth in these matters, just as in warlike affairs; for as there, such as are most valiant and strong, and do most worthy feats, obtain most fame, as in the Trojan war did Achilles and Hector; so, in these spiritual wars and contentions, those who most excel in learning and eloquence, or do more than others, must needs be oftenest named. For, on the one part, Panormitane was prince and captain; and on the other, Arelatensis: but his own will made not the former captain, but only necessity, for it behoved him to obey his prince. Notwithstanding, he was not ignorant on which side the truth lay, neither did he willingly fight against it; for I have seen him oftentimes in his library complain of his prince, that he followed other men’s counsel. When his turn came to speak, he said, That he did not a little marvel, why a proctor of the faith should require the prelates to have a session, which was nothing pertaining to his office; and that he ought not to usurp the president’s place. And again, he complained touching the contempt of the prelates, for the present matter did touch the state of the apostolic see, and for that cause the holy see ought to be heard before any session were holden. “Neither is that to be regarded,” said he, “which the council of Constance seemeth to have decreed, that it should now be acted upon, forsomuch as pope John was not heard at Constance, neither did any man else speak for the see.” By which words he seemed both to bring in doubt and to contemn all the decrees of that great and sacred synod of Constance. Therefore there was a great tumult, and all men cried out with one voice, saying, that the synod of Constance was holy, and the authority thereof ought to be inviolate. 89 But he, being still instant, with a stout and haut courage affirmed, that the matter could not be accomplished without the ambassadors of the princes, and that the princes ought to be heard in a matter of faith. And again, that the ambassadors themselves could not consent, forsomuch as in the diet holden at Mentz they had promised, that they would receive and allow nothing that either the pope had done against the council, or the council against the pope, during the negotiation of peace there handled; and that he doubted not but that the three first conclusions declared Eugene a heretic, insomuch as it was notorious that Eugene did obstinately contravene the two first. And therefore, forsomuch as the session was not yet holden, and that it was lawful for every man before the session to speak that would, he intreated most urgently, that there might be no session as yet holden. Unto whom Arelatensis answered, That it was not to be doubted but that a proctor of the faith, by his office, might call the prelates to determine a matter of faith, and especially forsomuch as the deputation of the faith 90 and the whole council had so given him in commandment. As touching the prelates, he said, that albeit, without all doubt, bishops had chief authority, yet, notwithstanding, it was accustomed in councils not to make any conclusion in the name of the bishops, but in the name of the whole council; and the universal church had laid down certain laws for itself in this council which still remained inviolate. Neither should the bishops think the presence of the inferiors grievous unto them, when oftentimes under a bare and torn coat wisdom lay hid, and under rich vestures and ornaments folly lurked. Bishops ought also to be mindful of the saying of Domitius, who (as St. Jerome reporteth) 91 said, “Why should I esteem thee as a prince, if thou dost not regard me as a senator?” For the bishops ought to esteem priests as priests, if they would have reverence done unto themselves as bishops. Neither ought the princes to be waited for in order to the deciding of this matter, forsomuch as the church was not congregated in the name of the princes, but in the name of Christ; and had not received its power from princes, but immediately from God: in the defense whereof he perceived the inferiors to be no less zealous than the bishops, for that he did well know, that they would not only spend their temporal goods, but also their lives, for the defense thereof. As for some bishops, rather than they will lose any part of their temporalties, they would sell the liberty of the church unto the princes, and make them judges and lords over the council. As touching the acts at Mentz, he did not regard them, because (as the saying is) they had counted without their host. Moreover he said, he did not understand how this could be, that they had decreed neither to obey the pope, nor the council; the one or the other they must needs obey, for there was no third tribunal whereunto any obedience was due, in those matters which concern faith and the salvation of souls. And, finally, that the church would not suffer that their affairs and matters of faith should be determined by the judgment of princes; for the Holy Ghost was not subject unto princes, but princes unto Him: and for this conclusion he would not shrink from the penalty of the loss of his goods, or martyrdom. And whereas Panormitane did now show himself so great a defender of Eugene, he said, that he did not a little marvel at it, for that in times past no man had more published Eugene’s errors, than he; by whose special labor and counsel, both a decree monitory, and also the suspension, were admitted and set out against Eugene. And now, whereupon this sudden change should come, he said that he was utterly ignorant, forsomuch as neither Eugene had altered his life, neither could the church stand in so great a schism. Wherefore he desired Panormitane diligently to consider, whether he spake according to his conscience or not: “For,” said he, “the conclusions which now shall be decreed, are most general; neither is there any mention in them of the pope; and moreover the verity of faith is contained in them: against the which if Eugene do contend, it were more meet that the pope should be corrected than the verity omitted.” And thus he making an end, all were warned to come the next day unto the session. The protector, also, desired the sacred council, that none should be suffered to bring any weapon to the session; forsomuch as he was ready to preserve the safe-conduct of the emperor, and, together with the senate of the city, to prohibit all quarrellers from doing of injury. As soon as Saturday was come, being the 16th day of May, all they, to whom the session was agreeable, assembled at the hour. The ambassadors, also, of the princes came together into the quire of the church, to attempt further what they could do; and, sending the bishops of Lubeck and Cuenca, and the dean of Tours (an excellent learned man), they offered themselves to be present at the session, if that the deposition of Eugene might yet be deferred four months. Who, when they had received a gentle answer of Arelatensis and the other principals, returning again unto the ambassadors, they found their purpose altered, for now they would only have the first conclusion decreed, and thereupon sent again unto the cardinal: when they received for answer, That the chief force did lie in the two other conclusions, and that the council wished specially to determine upon them. If the ambassadors would not be present, they must understand, that the concord was broken by themselves, seeing they would not observe that which they had offered. With which answer they departed, and the business of the session began. There was no prelate of the Arragons, or from any part of Spain, present; and out of Italy, only the bishop of Grossetto, and the abbot of Dona, who, for their constancy and steadfast good-will toward the universal church, could not be changed from their purpose: but of doctors and other inferiors, there were a great number of Arragons, and almost all the inferiors of Spain and Italy (for the inferiors feared not the princes, as the bishops did), and then the sterling character of the Arragons and Catalonians appeared in the inferior sort, who would not fail and forsake the church in her necessity. Of the two other nations, there were only present twenty bishops. The residue lurked in their lodgings, holding the faith in their hearts, but not professing it with their mouths. Arelatensis, 92 guessing what was likely to happen, caused search to be made through the city for the relics of saints, which he appointed to be borne at the session in the hands of priests, and to supply the place (as it were) of the absent bishops: which spectacle greatly increased the fervor of those present, insomuch that at the customary invocation of the Holy Spirit no man could forbear weeping; but after their prayers made unto Almighty God with tears and lamentations, that he would send them his Holy Spirit to aid and assist them, they were greatly comforted and encouraged. This session was very full; and, albeit that there were not many bishops present, yet all the seats were filled with the bishops’ proctors, archdeacons, presidents, priors, priests, and doctors of both laws, whom I judged to be in number about four hundred, or more; amongst whom there was no noise, no chiding, no opprobrious words or contention, but one exhorted another to the profession of the faith, and there appeared a full and entire consent of them all, to defend the church. The bishop of Marseilles, a noble man, read the decree, *who 93 had so great familiarity with the bishop of Albenga, that they were called ‘the twins;’ 558 for both at home and also abroad they were always seen together. Which matter was so much the more to be marvelled at, in that they appeared so discordant in the matters of the church, forsomuch as the bishop of Albenga read the protestation against the decree, and the bishop of Marseilles read the decree itself; both these readers coming together out of one house: but, as some suppose, there was sincerity in the one, and dissimulation in the other. The reading of the decree was brief, for the decree itself was but brief; but it* was attentively listened unto, and not one word lost. When it was ended, ‘Te Deum laudamus’ was sung on the one part, and on the other side ‘Te Dominum confitemur;’ and so, by course, the hymn was ended with great joy and gladness; and so the session was dissolved, being in number the thirty-third session, and the most quiet and peaceable of all. The Friday next following, being the 22d day of May, the princes’ ambassadors, beyond all men’s expectation, came unto the general congregation, by that their doing at the least giving their assent unto the session before passed; in the proceedings whereof if the fathers had erred, it had not been lawful for the princes’ ambassadors to have holden the council with those fathers. But it was thought, that they were touched with remorse of conscience, and already detested and abhorred that which they had done; as was quite plain with regard to the ambassadors of the empire and France. For the bishop of Lubeck said, That the cause of his absence was, that he had been charged by the emperor to intreat a peace:wherefore it would not have been comely for him to be a party to any business, whereby he would be vexed or troubled with whom the peace was to be intreated. Notwithstanding, he did much commend the session before holden, and believed the decree therein promulgated to be most good and holy, and the verities therein contained to be undoubted; and said, That he would stick thereunto both now and ever, even to the death. But the archbishop of Tours, a man both learned and eloquent, speaking for himself and his fellows, said, That he heard how that they were evil spoken of amongst some, for that in that most sacred session they had not honored their king, whom it became specially to exalt and to defend the faith; who also, for that cause, above all other kings was named ‘Most Christian.’ Notwithstanding, he said, that he had a lawful excuse, in that it was convenient that those who were sent to entreat peace, should do nothing whereby they might frustrate their object. Also there are two kinds of unrighteousness, 559 said he, whereby either things that should be done are not done, or things that should not be done are done. The first do not always bind, because it is proper to have respect of time, place, and person. But the last do always bind; wherein, he said, they were not culpable. But, as touching the first class, they might seem unto some to have erred, because they were not present at the session; but yet, in this point they had sufficient to answer, forsomuch as, if they had been present at that session, they should have been unmeet to have entreated a peace with Eugene. And, therefore, albeit they were wanting at so holy a business, in that point they followed the example of Paul, who, albeit he desired to be dissolved and to be with Christ, yet, for the further profit and advancement of the church was for deferring it for the present. So likewise, he said, had they now done; for that they were not absent because they doubted of the conclusions (which they judged to be most true and holy, and whereunto they would stick, even unto the death), but because they would not be unmeet for the treaty of peace for which they had come: and yet that which they had not clone in their own persons, they had fulfilled, said he, by their servants and household, whom altogether they commanded to reverence that session. I would that I had been then in the place of some great prelate; surely they should not have gone unpunished, 94 who so thought to play bo-peep. For how could a declaration of the truth hinder the intreaty of peace? or, if it did, why is not he accounted as great an offender, who consenteth to him that declareth the truth, as he who doth declare it? What further need have we of witnesses? for now the ambassadors of the princes have declared Eugene to be an enemy unto the truth. But, to pass over these things, it is sufficient that Eugene wrote afterward unto the king of France, that he did understand the archbishop of Tours to have become his enemy. After the archbishop of Tours had made an end, cardinal Arelatensis gave thanks unto God, who had so defended his church, and after great storms and clouds had sent fair and clear weather; and, commending the good-will of the emperor and the king of France toward the church, he also praised the bishop of Lubeck and the archbishop of Tours, for that oftentimes in the council, and also of late at Mentz, they had defended the authority of the council. But specially he commended these their present doings, that they had openly confessed the truth, and had not sequestered themselves from the faith of the church. Afterward, entering into a narrative of the matter, he said, that he was at Pisa and at Constance, and never saw a more quiet or devout session than this; affirming that this decree was most necessary to repress the ambition of the bishops of Rome, who, exalting themselves above the universal church, thought it lawful for them to do all things after their own pleasure; and that no one man, from thenceforth, would translate a council from one place to another, as Eugene attempted to do, now to Bologna, now to Florence, then again to Bologna, afterward to Ferrara, and after that again to Florence; and that, hereafter, the pontiffs would withdraw their minds from carefulness of temporal things, whereas now (as he himself did see) they had no thought at all on spiritual matters. And, therefore, by how much this session was most holy and necessary, by so much more the assent of the ambassadors was most laudable and acceptable to all the fathers.—These words thus spoken, he rose up, and the congregation was dissolved. * Now, 95 how the deposition of Eugene did pass, the Book following shall declare at large. Thus endeth the First Book of the Commentaries of Aeneas Sylvius, touching the acts of the council of Basil against Eugene and his adherents. THE SECOND BOOK OF THE COMMENTARIES OF AENEAS SYLVIUS, UPON THE ACTS OF THE COUNCIL OF BASIL. The Lord took up his armor and shield, and rose up to help the church; and she, receiving help, being glad, rejoiced in her God, who clothed her with the garments of salvation, and arrayed her in the vestures of righteousness as a spouse adorned with a crown and goodly jewels. It is shown in the first part of these commentaries, to what state the church was brought in these days, which Eugene, the late pope, did vex and trouble like a reed shaken with the wind. Notwithstanding, it is always true, which John Chrysostome hath declared, that the church doth never cease to be impugned, and to be lien in wait for; but in the name of Christ, it hath always the victory and upper hand. And, albeit new foes lie in wait for it, and the floods again and again strike against it, notwithstanding, the foundation which is laid upon a rock is never shaken. Wherefore iniquity deceived Gabriel, and the Lord destroyed him in his wickedness; for he, being thrown down headlong out of the apostolic see by the sentence of the council, the Lord became the refuge of the church, and gave a pastor unto his flock, who should visit the desolate places, seek those things which are scattered abroad, and should not eat the flesh of such as are fat, but should wisely and discreetly nourish that which doth stand and remain: which thing that all Christians may the more plainly understand, I will declare, in this Book which followeth, the order of the election, how that Amedeus, the most wise and discreet duke of Savoy, was chosen bishop of Rome.* Gabriel Condulmarius being deposed from the bishopric of Rome, as we have already declared, the principal fathers of the council, being called together 560 in the chapter-house of the great church, consulted together whether it were expedient that a new bishop should be created out-ofhand, or that it be deferred for a time. Such as thought good that the election should be done with speed, showed how dangerous a thing it was for such a congregation to be without a head; also, what a pestiferous sickness was in all the city, which not only consumed young men and children, but also men of middle age and old men in like manner; and that this plague came first by strangers unto the poor of the city, and so had infected the rich, and now was come unto the fathers of the council: amplifying, moreover, and increasing the terror thereof, and making the thing worse than it was, as the manner is. *All things did breed fear.* “Neither doth the decree,” said they, “any thing let or hinder, wherein it is provided, that there should be delay of sixty days after the see is void; for that is to be understand to apply, when the see is void at such time as there is no council holden: neither ought we to tarry or make any delay, lest the princes, being persuaded by Gabriel, should resist; unto whom the deposition of Gabriel, and the election of some other, must be certified all under one message.” The other, who thought good that there should be a delay, said, that the council did lack no head, forsomuch as Christ was the head thereof; neither did lack a ruler, forsomuch as it was governed by the presidents and other officers: and that no mention should be made of any pestilence in such case, seeing that by stout and valiant men death is not to be feared, neither should any thing fear those who contend for the christian faith. As for that pestilence, which did now increase and grow in the city, forsomuch as judgment was now given, it was to be hoped that it would assuage, which was thought to have come for the neglecting of justice. Also, that in so arduous a matter they ought rather to use the princes against their will, than to neglect them; and that it was not to be feared, but that, in this case, ‘fortune would help those that were stout and valiant.’ The matter being thus discussed amongst them, albeit that there were as many minds as there were men, yet all seemed to agree, that it was most profitable to choose the pontiff at once, but more decent to defer it. Hereupon John de Segovia, a man of excellent learning, said: “Most reverend fathers! I am diversely drawn, by sundry reasons, to this side and that. But, as I weigh the matter more deeply in my mind, this is my opinion; that it seemeth good to come to a speedy election, to speak after man’s judgment; but it seemeth much better to delay it for two months, as more consonant to God’s will; for I do not see how that which is so settled by the laws can be rescinded. I do judge, that not only the words, but also the meaning of our decree, ought to be observed. Wherefore, if ye will give any credit unto me, follow rather honesty with its dangers, than utility with its present safety; albeit, in reality, utility cannot be separated from honesty.” This counsel of delay prevailed among the fathers, and they decreed to stay for the space of two months. In the mean time, messengers were sent unto the princes, to declare the deposition of Eugene by the synod, and publish it abroad. During this time, the corrupt air was nothing at all purged, but the plague daily increasing, many died and more were sick. Whereupon a sudden fear came 561 upon the fathers; neither were they sufficiently made up what they should do: for they thought it not to be without danger either to depart or to tarry. Notwithstanding, they thought it good to tarry, and also they caused others to tarry; that since they had overcome famine, and the assaults of their enemies on earth, they might not seem to shrink, for the persecution of any plague or sickness. But, forsomuch as they could not all be kept there, it was politicly provided, that the council should not seem to be dissolved for any man’s departure. And, for the greater security of the matter, there were certain of the fathers chosen, whom they called ‘Patres de stabilimento,’ whose authority continued long time after. When the dog-days were now come, and all herbs withered with heat, the pestilence daily increased more and more, so that it is incredible how many died. It was to horrible to see the corses hourly carried through the streets, when on every side there was weeping, wailing, and sighing. There was no house void of mourning; no mirth or laughter in any place; but matrons bewailing their husbands, and husbands their wives. Men and women went through the streets, and durst not speak one to another. Some tarried at home, and other some that went abroad had perfumes to smell unto, to preserve them against the plague. The common people died without number; and, like as in the cold autumn the leaves of the trees do fall, even so did the youth of the city consume and fall away. The violence of the disease was such, that ye should have met a man hale and hearty in the street now, and within ten hours have heard that he had been buried. The number of the dead corses was such also, that they lacked place to bury them in; insomuch that all the burial grounds 562 having been dug up and filled with dead corses, great holes were made in the church-yards, where a great number of corses being thrust in together, they covered them over with earth. For this cause the fathers were so afraid, that there appeared no blood in their faces; and specially the sudden death of Louis, the prothonotary, did make all men afraid; who was a strong man, and flourishing in age, and singularly learned in both laws, yet the envious and raging sickness took him away in a few hours. A little while after, died Louis, the patriarch of Aquileia, a man of great age, and brought up always in troubles and adversity, neither could he see the day of the pope’s election, which he had long wished for. Notwithstanding, he took partly a consolation, in that he had seen Gabriel deposed before his death. This man’s death was grievous unto all the fathers; for now they said, that two pillars of the council were decayed and overthrown, meaning the prothonotary and the patriarch, whereof the one by the law, and the other with his deeds, defended the verity of the council. About the same time, 563 also, died the king of Arragon’s almoner in Switzerland, a man of excellent learning; and soon after, the bishop of Evreux at Strasburg. The abbot of Vezelai died at Spires, and John, the bishop of Lubeck, between Vienna and Buds. These two last rehearsed, even at the point of death, did this thing worthy of remembrance. When they perceived the hour of their death to approach, calling unto them certain grave and wise men, they said, “All you that be here present, pray to God that he will convert such as acknowledge Gabriel for chief pontiff, for in that state they cannot be saved;” and professing themselves that they would die in the faith of the council of Basil, they departed to the Lord. In Bohemia, also, departed the bishop of Constance, who was ambassador for the council. There was great fear and trembling both in and out of the council. There had been also in the council, by a long time, the abbot of Dons, of the diocese of Cures, a man poor in this world, but rich toward God, whom neither flatterings nor threatenings could turn away from his good purpose and intent; choosing rather to beg, siding with the truth of the fathers, than to abound in riches, with the false flattering adversaries. Whereupon, after the lords were departed who had given him his living, he remaining still, was stricken with the plague and died, bequeathing to his monastery all his property, a solitary cow. Likewise Henry, chaplain of the cardinal of Aries, died within three days. Likewise a great number of the registrars and doctors died; and of such as fell into that disease, very few escaped. One amongst all the rest, Aeneas Sylvius, being stricken with this disease, by God’s help escaped. This man, the next night after that his friend, Julian Romaine, whom he tenderly loved, was buried, felt the sore, and lay three days even at the point of death, all men being in despair of him: notwithstanding it pleased God to grant him longer life. *But, 98 alas! how unstable is the order of human things! or, how deceitful is the world! for Aeneas who could not die in his own body, died in another man. For within a little while after, he, returning from Trent, found John Pynanus, a man born at Rouen, to be dead of a malignant fever and negligence of the physicians; with which news he was so troubled and ravished in his mind, that he seemed to have half lost his wits, neither was there in him, afterward, the like courage, either unto his study, or the matters of the council, insomuch that a man would scarcely have said that there had been any spirit in him to breathe withal. Notwithstanding, every man must be contented to suffer such fortune; for no man went untouched, but either he had occasion to bewail his own chance, or some friend of his.* At that time when the pestilence was at its height, and that daily there died about one hundred, there was great entreaty made unto cardinal Arelatensis, that he would go to some other town or village near at hand; and these were the words of all his friends and household: “What do you, most reverend father? At the least void this wane of the moon and save yourself; who being safe, all we shall be also safe: if you die, we all perish. If the plague overcome you, unto whom shall we fly? Who shall rule us? or who shall be the guide of this most faithful flock? The infection hath already invaded your chamber; your secretary and chamberlain are already dead. Consider the great danger, and save both yourself and us.” But neither the entreaty of his household, nor the corses of those who were dead, could move him, willing rather to preserve the council with peril of his life, than to save his life with peril of the council; for he did know, that if he should depart, few would tarry behind, and that deceit would be wrought in his absence. Wherefore, like as in wars the soldiers fear no danger when they see their captain in the midst of their enemies, so the fathers of the council were ashamed to fly from this pestilence, seeing their president to remain with them in the midst of all dangers. Which their doings did utterly subvert the opinion of those who babbled abroad, that the fathers tarried in Basil to seek their own profit and commodity, and not the verity of the faith; for there is no commodity upon earth, which men would change for their lives; for all such as do serve the world, do prefer life before all other things. But these our fathers, showing themselves an invincible strong wall for the house of God, vanquishing all the crafty deceits which Gabriel used, and overcoming all difficulties, which this most cruel and letiferous year brought upon them, at length, all desire of life also being set apart, overcame all dangers, and hesitated not, with most constant minds to defend the verity of the council even unto this present. *The 99 time named in the decree after the deposition of Gabriel being passed, it seemed good unto the fathers to proceed to the election of another pontiff, whereupon they, counselling amongst themselves, touching the order of proceeding, it was afterward concluded in the deputations and in the whole congregation, that thirty-two fathers should be chosen out of the body of the council, who, taking an oath ordained by the council, should enter the conclave together with the cardinal Arelatensis, to elect and choose the pope. Notwithstanding, the Common deputation thought good, that there should be but only twenty-four chosen for that election besides the cardinal, and those also should be priests. 564 But the determination of the three other deputations prevailed: wherefore the decree was made, and the conclave prepared with all speed. Which being done, they proceeded to the nominating of the thirty-two, who, together with the cardinal, should elect and choose the pope. This was about the first of October. The matter at the first was very difficult and hard, some of them preferring one mode of nominating electors, some another. At the last, William, archdeacon of Metz, a clever and learned man, opened unto them a certain way and mean: “There are,” said he, “in the council, three fathers, whose fidelity the whole council, I think, will follow.” These three men he named to be Thomas, abbot of Dundrain in Galloway, of the diocese of Whitern, commonly called the Scottish abbot; 565 John de Segovia, 566 archdeacon of Villaviciosa, in the diocese of Oviedo; and Thomas de Corcellis, canon of Amiens; all divines: whose sobriety and virtue being commended, he determined that they three should be the principal electors, and that unto them should be committed the election of the other twenty-nine, whom they should privily name among themselves, and not publish till the day before they should enter the conclave. Which thing being allowed in the deputation of faith, Francis de Foix, a divine, and Aeneas of Sienna, were sent unto the other deputations to persuade them also. But they, suspecting some fraud, would not give ear to any persuasion. But forsomuch as there was no better or readier way found by the other, the deputation of faith prevailed. Certain days after, they appointed the said Francis and Aeneas to go again unto the deputations, with this addition, that if it pleased the other deputations, the three fathers would take unto them another. That was done for this purpose, lest the German nation should complain, that there was none of their nation with the three fathers: for divers murmured and said, that the Scottish abbot seemed to be more of a Frenchman than a German. After much discussing of the matter, they agreed upon this point: the Three Men aforesaid were appointed and chosen for three of the electors of the bishop of Rome, and full authority was given unto them, to choose and take unto them one, two, or three others, as they should think good; who, being so elect and chosen, should have like power and authority with them (through the power, authority, and commandment of the sacred council), to nominate and choose the residue of the electors of the bishop of Rome, and other officers necessary for the conclave; provided that none so named and elected by them should be received, except he were named and elected by the majority of the electors. It was also enjoined them, that they should nominate and choose the residue of the electors out of the whole body of the council, having respect, as much as might be, to the nations and deputations which were in the council. Whereupon, the Three Men were bound on their oath to nominate and choose apt men, having the fear of God, and not to reveal or disclose those which they had chosen until they should be published in a general congregation, or that they were commanded by the council so to do, but to keep their election under their seals, in some safe and sure place, until the day of their publication. All this was done the thirteenth day of October, in a general congregation. It seemed strange unto all men, that a matter of so great importance should be committed to only three men. Notwithstanding, virtue overcame all, and the tried probity of the men excluded every suspicion of fraud and deceit. The matter being thus arranged, Arelatensis, contrary to all men’s expectation, seemed to defer the election. Whereupon some (as the multitude is prone to backbite and slander) did backbite and slander him. Other some, contrary to his mind, sought to hasten the election. Which thing when he understood, contrary to his old accustomed manner, which never used to regard any evil words, he made a complaint of these matters unto the deputations, whereby he brought to pass that, purging himself, they were brought into contempt and hatred, who had spoken evil of him, and thereby did so much the more approve and confirm his fidelity towards the council. While these things were thus doing, there went a bruit throughout all the world, that the pestilence was ceased at Basil, and that the pope’s election went forward speedily: whereupon many came out of divers countries to behold and see the matter, amongst whom there were many notable prelates. When the council was now fuller than it was accustomed to be, and that all men almost were returned, who were fled for fear of the pestilence, the Three Men, minding to perform the commission given them by the council, associated unto them Christian de Konig-Gratz, prior of the canons of St. Peter’s at Brunn, in the diocese of Olmutz, born in the heart of Germany, 567 master in divinity, and a man of constant mind and sound judgment. The twenty-eighth day of October, assembling together in the house of the friars Minors, they made the nomination committed to them, and, according unto the commandment of the council, kept it sealed. But before that was done, they talked with divers expert and wise men of every nation, by whose report they learned what were the manners of every man; and, by a subtle examination, ascertained how every man was esteemed in his own country. Many also came unto them of their own accord, who were desirous either to praise their friend, or to run down their enemy; whom they, being desirous of the truth, and anxious that they might not be deceived in so weighty a matter, willingly heard: so that there was no wickedness committed in the council, but they heard and understood it, beside much that was done abroad. These men, the twentyninth day of October, being called upon by the council to report what they had done, came unto the congregation, where the whole body corporate were assembled; neither was any man absent that could possibly be there. And forsomuch as the Three Men had not declared the matter unto any, by how much the matter was kept secret, by so much the more it was desired of all men. Then they talked together amongst themselves, and spake much of the Three Men, offering many guesses as to the nomination of the electors; some saying that this man, and other some that that man, would be an elector; speaking as affection and likelihood did move them, but, forsomuch as no man knew anything with certainty, every man was the more eager to hear the conclusion. Some had put on their best apparel, other some had hired new servants, some had committed their houses unto their friends, because they thought to be of the number of the electors; for it happeneth, I know not how, that every man over-estimateth his own virtue; whose ambition is afterward more derided, than fulfilled. Cardinal Arelatensis, being very careful in this weighty business, and being occupied with other affairs, came somewhat later unto the congregation than time required; whose long tarrying was not a little marvelled at of all men. When he was set down in his seat, having first excused his long tarrying, he said: “This day a weighty matter is intreated, in the nomination of the electors which is about to be straightway opened, whereupon the state of the church doth depend. If the Three Men unto whom you have committed these affairs have done well, I grant I have tarried too long; but if they have not done well, I am come too soon:” which words he pronounced with a fearful voice, and a pale countenance, even of the abundance of his heart. When he had thus spoken, through his sad countenance and gesture he made all men afraid, and showed such a sadness of mind that many wept, who knew the state that he was in by his countenance. For this same good father feared lest the Three Men, contemning the high prelates, had chosen the most part out of the inferiors; which thing was the more to be suspected, for that he could never know any thing of their mind. When the Three Men perceived the cardinal so sad, they prepared for whatever might happen, as men after a flash of lightning prepare for a storm. Notwithstanding, all men were greatly afraid, lest the church should be that day divided again, and lest a greater tumult should follow, than that which arose before by occasion of choosing the piece where the council should meet: for every man, according as his affection led him, prepared himself either to the commendation or dispraise of the Three M Who, perceiving all this, thought good, before they opened the lists, somewhat to pacify the minds of the audience, and to explain the principles on which they had made their nomination; knowing that after a wound was once given, no man would willingly hearken. The Scottish abbot spake first, and after him John de Segovia, making this preface aforehand: THE PREFACE OF JOHN DE SEGOVIA AND HIS ASSOCIATES. No man (they said) should think himself contemned, if he were omitted; for that they had taken the greatest pains in judging, what men they should receive unto the conclave, and whom they should leave out: for that it seemed to them as needful to appoint sober and discreet men without the conclave, as within, who might defend the conclave, and prohibit factions or uproars in the council. This they had learned of the precepts of the most famous philosopher Plato, who commandeth the governors of cities so to rule the whole body of the common-wealth, that whilst they do defend the one part, they do not forsake the other. Which thing, also, did admonish them to nominate the electors by their provinces, that they might not seem to reverence some and neglect other some. And in their election, they had been circumspect to take no bishop who had not a people in charge, and no abbot who had not a monastery.; but in all whom they had nominated they had either found some singular goodness or nobility joined with goodness, or else some singular learning joined with both. The number of bishops, including a cardinal-bishop, was equal to the number of the apostles. They had also nominated seven abbots, five from amongst the most famous divines, and nine doctors: all these being in the order of priest- hood. As for the officers whom they had nominated, they were famous for nobility and virtue: that is to say, one vice-chamberlain, eight keepers of the conclave, two clerks of the ceremonies, two promoters, one proctor-fiscal, and one soldan. In the nomination of these they had also had an eye to the deputations, as was enjoined them. With these words they did somewhat pacify the multitude, and then, amid a marvellous silence, opened the lists of the elected; the which John de Segovia did read, the order of the nations being omitted therein; for the Triumvirs felt it to be an awkward thing for them to prefer one nation before another: and therefore, as every man did excel in prelacy or dignity, so was he first named. ‘For my part’ (saith Aeneas Sylvius, the historian of these things), ‘I shall not hesitate to observe the order of the nations which was observed at Constance; neither do I fear any ill will, because I shall not be shewing any favor unto those who are put first, nor doing any injury unto those who are placed after: for neither did nobility nor authority bring in this order, but time itself; for, as every nation did first receive the word of God, so is it first preferred. For the early or late conversion of my ancestors is no ground of praise or blame to me, so long as I am myself a Christian: for he had no more reward in the gospel, who came early in the morning to the vineyard, than he who came late. Notwithstanding, the Roman empire, and the see of Peter, give the Italian nation the priority. Wherefore, for the better understanding of those who shall read the same, we will observe the order of nations. ‘But this must first be considered, that the cardinal Arelateusis came unto the election, not by favor of the Triumvirs’ nomination, but in his own right: wherefore I will set him first, out of the order of the nations. The like place also would any other cardinals have had, if, being reconciled unto the church, and, not in the least spotted with Eugene’s heresy, they had come in time. The first and principal of all the electors was the cardinal, a man of invincible constancy and incomparable wisdom, unto whose virtue I may justly ascribe whatsoever was done in the council: for without him the prelates had not persevered in their purpose, neither could the shadow of any prince so have defended them.’ But now to proceed to the nomination. 100 Out of the Italian nation there were chosen, William, bishop of Vercelli; George, bishop of Aosta, John, bishop of Ivrea, in Piedmont; and Louis, bishop of Turin; all men of nobility and great wisdom: also Aleran, abbot of the house of St. Benignus at Fructuaria, in the diocese of Ivrea; and James do Segusio, abbot of St. Benedict, in the diocese of Turin. Of doctors, friar John de Monte Canuto, master of the house of St. Anthony de Roversio, in the diocese of Turin; friar Bartholomew de Provanis, master of the house of St. Anthony de Clavacro, in the diocese of Ivrea. These men represented the Italian nation in the election of a new pontiff. Of the French nation were elected John, archbishop of Tarantaise, who was called to that place and dignity against his will; Francis, bishop of Geneva; and Bernard bishop of Aix, a subtle lawyer, who, for the manifest infirmities of his body and grievous gout excused himself; in whose place was chosen Louis, bishop of Marseilles: also Raymond, abbot of Conquet, in the diocese of Rodez. Of divines, Nicholas Thibout, penitentiary of the church of Coutances, in the province of Rouen, in Normandy; John de Vellee, rector of the parish of Plouneour, 568 in the diocese of Leon, in Bretagne; and Thomas de Corcellis, who was one of the Triumvirs: of lawyers, William Hughes, archdeacon of Metz. All these were chosen, with the cardinal Arelatensis, to represent France in the election of the pope. Out of the German nation, which is the greatest of all the rest, were chosen Frederic, bishop of Basil; Conrad, abbot of Lucella, in the diocese of Basil; and Thomas de Scotia, who was one of the Triumvirs. Of doctors, Detzelaus, archdeacon of Cracow; John Wylor, dean of Basil; Henricus de Judeis, of Cologne; James de Saltzburg, a canon of Ratisbon; and Christian de Koenig-Gratz, who, as is before said, was added to the Triumvirs. Out of the Spanish nation were chosen for the election of the pope, three bishops; as Otto, bishop of Tortosa; George, bishop of Vich; Louis, bishop of Viseo, who was ambassador for the king of Portugal. Also of abbots, Peter, abbot of St. Cueuphas in the diocese of Barcelona; 569 and Antonio, abbot of Arulae in the diocese of Elne, 569 in Catalonia. Of doctors; Bernard de Busco, a canon of Lerida; Raymond Albioli, a canon of Tarazona; and John de Segovia, who was one of the Triumvirs. These were they who were elected to the nominating of the pope, out of the four nations. As for the Englishmen, they were not included, because they were not present, and none could be chosen, but such as were present. The officers to attend on the conclave were as follow: for vice-chamberlain, Louis, bishop of Lausanne: for keepers of the conclave, were elected Percevallus, bishop of Belley; Nicholas, bishop of Grossetto; John, abbot of St. Michael de Clusa, in the diocese of Turin; Francis, abbot of Notre Dame d’Abondance, in the diocese of Geneva; Francis de Foix, a divine; William of Constance, a canon of Spire; John de Toricella, dean of Segorbe; and Theodoric Nagel, a canon of Riga: for clerks of the ceremonies were appointed, Aeneas Piccolomini, of Sienna, a canon of Trent, and Michael Brunout, a canon of Beauvais: for promoters, they were elected who had before, in the council, a long time promoted causes, viz. Hugh Gerardi and John Slitzenrode: for proctor-fiscal was appointed Robert Magnani; and Peter de Atrio 570 for the soldan, who had filled the same office with approbation ever since the council opened. These men being thus nominated, and the list read by John de Segovia, as is before said, the cardinal, who until that present was amazed and afraid, because he could not be persuaded that such an election could be accomplished, was relieved and took courage. For when he saw that bishops and abbots in great number were elected and chosen, and that the nations were equally honored in the council, he began to take courage, and his face to recover its accustomed color; and making an oration with a cheerful countenance, he did exhilarate the ‘whole congregation, which, he being sad, could not otherwise choose but to be also heavy and sad. After he had spoken some things as touching the election, and greatly commended the industry and diligence of the Triumvirs, which they had at all times showed in that council, but now especially, he dismissed the congregation. At night, all the electors were sent for unto the cardinal’s chamber; where they conferred amongst themselves touching the distribution of the chambers; and, forsomuch as there was great difference in the chambers, the prelates thought that they should be distributed according to their respective dignities; that as every man was of most age and dignity, so he should enjoy the best and principal place. For they said, it was not to be suffered, that a cardinal or an archbishop should come to a lot with the doctors and inferiors, for that it would be ridiculous, if the cardinal should happen to be placed beneath, and the doctors above. And, forsomuch as the prelates were the greater number and all agreed in this view, it seemed but vain to speak of lots. The doctors, however, thought good to speak for themselves, and said, that the ancient customs ought not to be broken. For it had been always used, in every conclave, that the chambers should be distributed by lot, and that, not only between cardinal and cardinal, but also between cardinals and others: for at Constance, albeit there were many cardinals, yet did they not refuse to cast lots with the bishops and doctors. They said they could not but think the prelates selfish, in that they, being the greater number, sought to have the victory rather by votes, than by reason: and that unless the chambers were distributed by lot, some collusion was to be feared, and schism among the electors, while they who stood beneath, and shivered for cold, fell to envying those who were placed above. By these reasons the cardinal being persuaded, consented to the mind of the doctors, and after him the good bishop of Tortosa prophesied: “If there be any man,” said he, “unto whom the lot would be hurtful, it is I, whom the lot will place in the lowest room. Notwithstanding, rather than we should subvert the ancient customs, or incur the ill-will of the doctors, I think it good that the matter be settled by lot.” And to this opinion they finally agreed. Immediately there were certain of every sort of the electors sent to the conclave with the cardinal Arelatensis, with the help of the vicechamberlain to cast lots for the chambers. The electors’ names were written, every one on a separate billet, and put into a close basket; and when they came unto the first chamber-door, the cardinal, putting his hand into the basket, took out the billet that came next to hand, and reading the same, delivered it unto the vice-chamberlain, and the vice-chamberlain set it upon the chamber door; and so throughout the chambers in order; so that when the electors should enter into the conclave the next day, they should know that cell and chamber to be appointed for them, where they should find their names set up. The dean of Basil had the first place, and the bishop of Tortosa the last, according as he himself had prophesied. The distribution of the lot in this case was very strange, or rather a divine dispensation setting at nought the counsels of man, in that a doctor was placed first, and a bishop last, when the prelates had previously resolved to assign the best chambers to themselves. The next day following, being Friday, the thirtieth of October, there was a general congregation holden, and the deliberations of the last deputations were concluded upon. Immediately after followed a session: at which the cardinal Arelatensis performed divine service; 571 and after the gospel was sung, Mark, a famous divine, made an oration unto the electors, and reckoning up the manifold crimes of Gabriel who was deposed, he endeavored himself to persuade the electors to choose such a man as should in all points be contrary unto Gabriel, and eschew all his vices: that as he through his manifold reproaches was hateful unto all men, so he who should be chosen should show himself acceptable unto all men through his righteousness; and as Gabriel was covetous and full of rapine, so this man should show himself moderate. The church was full of people in every part. The noble matrons of the city stood between the uppermost pillars, beholding the congregation, and surveying the process of things not without great devotion. There was present John earl of Tierstein, who supplied the place of the emperor’s protector. The consuls of the city were also present, and many other noblemen, to behold and see the same strange matter. Silence was kept on all parts, and the citizens were without the church in armor, to prevent there being any uproar made. There was so great a number of People gathered together to behold this matter, that neither in the church, nor in the streets, was there room for them, and there was a great press within the church. When the cardinal Arelatensis had communicated, the other electors, according to their order, were called unto the altar to communicate. First, the archbishop of Tarantaise and the ten other bishops did communicate; after them, the seven abbots; then, the five divines; and last of all, the nine lawyers; who, coming unto the altar and kneeling down, received the sacrament. It was a worthy sight to behold so many reverend bishops, so many famous fathers, showing their hoary heads before the sacrament, some of them praying, and other some pouring out abundant tears. After all this was done, and the general congregation finished, all the prelates put on their robes and vestments, fit for the session. Then Louis, the bishop of Lausanne, 572 going up into the pulpit, read three things there by order. First of all the answer of the synod, to the calumnious libel of Gabriel, which beginneth, ‘Moses:’ Secondly, a certain limitation touching a decree lately set forth by the council about elections: and, thirdly, the nomination of the Triumvirs, which the sacred council allowed. Which being read, the fathers were demanded whether it pleased them or no: whereunto they answered ‘Placet.’ Then the bishop of Lausanne required that the form of the oath should be read, which the electors should take, and that the electors should take their oath, according to the order of the council. Then the cardinal Arelatensis, opening the book of Decrees, read the form of the oath in the audience of all men, and by-and-by being required so to swear, said,* “Most reverend fathers! I promise, swear, and vow, before my Lord Jesus Christ (whose most blessed body I, unworthy sinner, have received, unto whom in the last judgment I shall give an account of all my deeds), that in this business of election, whereunto now, by the will of the council, we are sent, I will seek nothing else, but only the salvation of the christian people and the profit of the universal church. And it shall be my whole care and study that the authority of general councils be not contemned, that the catholic faith be not impugned, and that the fathers who remain in the council be not oppressed. This will I seek for; this shall be my care; unto this with all my whole force and power will I bend myself; neither will I do any thing in this matter, either for mine own cause, or for any friend, but will regard only God and the profit of the church. With this mind and intent, and with this heart, I take the oath enjoined by the council.” His words were lively and fearful, *moving 101 the minds of all those that stood by. After him the other electors took their oaths. Who is it, then, that would not think him meet for the popedom, who was allowed by the judgment of so many bishops and priests? especially when they had taken their oath, 573 just after receiving the sacrament, that they would choose none, but only such as they should think fit for the dignity. In the same session also the vice-chamberlain, the keepers of the conclave, the clerks of the ceremonies, and the promoters, engaged by oath to execute their office without guile. Which done, about three of the clock at afternoon, the people being yet fasting, ‘Te Deum’ was sung by all parties. That ended, they went, with all solemnity, to the conclave. When they came thither the electors were received in, and all the rest dismissed and sent away. Their servants also that were appointed unto them were let in, yet was not the door of the conclave immediately shut, but stood open until nine of the clock at night, that their friends might bring them such things as were necessary, and one friend to talk with another till that time. When it was dark, the protector with certain citizens went in to see how every man was placed; taking great pleasure to behold the order and manner thereof. After him went in the bishop of Lausanne, the vicechamberlain, and the keepers of the conclave, searching every chamber, if they had any person or any thing with them, contrary to the orders; but, finding nothing, they went their ways. About nine of the clock, as is before said, the gates were shut, both within and without, and strongly barred and chained. But now to declare the order of the election. In the place where the cardinal and the bishop of Vich were, seats were prepared for the cardinal and the others; the archbishop of Tarantaise was set on the right hand of the cardinal, and the bishop of Tortosa on the left hand, and so all the other electors were placed according to their degree and order.* Before the cardinal’s seat was set a stool, whereupon there stood a bason of silver, into which bason all the electors did east their billets, which the cardinal, receiving, read one by one; and four others of the electors wrote as he read them. The tenor of the billets was as followeth: “I, George, bishop of Vich, do choose such a man, or such a man, for bishop of Rome;” and peradventure named one or two. Every one of the electors subscribed his name unto his billet, that he might thereby know his own, and say ‘nay,’ if it were written contrary to that which he ordered; whereby all deceit was utterly excluded. The first scrutiny thus ended, it was found that there were many named to the papacy; yet none had sufficient voices, for, that day, there were seventeen of divers nations nominated. Notwithstanding, Amedeus, duke of Savoy, a man of singular virtue, surmounted them all; for in the first scrutiny he had the voice of sixteen electors, who judged him worthy to govern the church. After this, at three of the clock in the afternoon, there was diligent inquisition had in the council touching those who were named of the electors, and as every man’s opinion served him, he did either praise or discommend those who were nominated. Notwithstanding, there was such report made of Amedeus, that in the next scrutiny, which was holden on the second day of November, the said Amedeus had nineteen voices, 574 and afterward in the third and fourth scrutinies twenty-one voices. But, forsomuch as there was none found in all the scrutinies to have two-thirds, all the billets were burnt. And forsomuch as there lacked but only one voice to the election of the chief pontiff, they fell unto prayer, desiring God that he would vouchsafe to direct their minds unanimously to elect one who would worthily take the pastoral charge over the flock of God. Forsomuch as Amedeus seemed to be nearer unto the papacy than all others, there was great communication had amongst them touching his life and manners. Some said, that hands ought not so suddenly to be laid on a layman; and that it would seem to all a monstrous thing, for a secular prince to be called unto the bishopric of Rome; a step which would derogate from the ecclesiastical state, as though there were none therein meet or worthy for that dignity. Other some said, that a man who was married and had children was unmeet for such a charge. Other some again affirmed, that the bishop of Rome ought to be a doctor of law, and an excellent learned man. When these words were spoken, other some rising up, spake far otherwise; that albeit Amedeus was no doctor, yet was he learned and wise, forsomuch as all his whole youth he had bestowed in learning and study, and had sought, not titles but knowledge. AN ORATION IN FAVOR OF THE CLAIMS OF AMEDEUS TO THE POPEDOM. Then said another 102 these words: ‘If ye be desirous to be instructed further of this prince’s life, I pray you give ear unto me, who do know him thoroughly. Truly this man, from his youth upward, and even from his young and tender years, hath lived more religiously than secularly, being always obedient to his parents and masters, and being always indued with the fear of God, never given to any vanity or wantonness; neither hath there at any time been any child of the house of Savoy, in whom hath appeared greater wit or towardness; whereby all those who did behold and know this man, judged and foresaw some great matter in him, neither were they deceived. For, if ye desire to know his rule and governance, what and how noble it hath been, first, know ye this, that this man hath reigned, since his father’s decease, about forty years; during whose time, justice, the lady and queen of all other virtues, hath always flourished. For he, hearing his subjects himself, would never suffer the poor to be oppressed, or the weak to be deceived. He was the defender of the fatherless, the advocate of the widows, and the protector of the poor. There was no rapine or robbery in all his territory. The poor and rich lived all under one law, neither was he burthenous unto his subjects, or importune against strangers, throughout all his country: there were no grievous exactions of money throughout all his dominion. He thought himself rich enough, if the inhabitants of his dominion did abound and were rich; knowing that it is the point of a good shepherd to shear his sheep, and not to devour them. In this also was his chief study and care, that his subjects might live in peace; and such as bordered upon him might have no occasion of grudge. By which policies he did not only quietly govern his father’s dominion, but also augmented the same by others, who willingly submitted themselves unto him. He never made war upon any, and even in resisting such as made war upon him, he studied rather to make peace, than to seek any revenge; desiring rather to overcome his enemies with beneficence, than with the sword. ‘He married only one wife, who was a noble virgin, and of singular beauty and chastity. He would have all his family to keep their hands and eyes chaste and continent, and throughout all his house honesty and integrity of manners were observed; insomuch that even in a secular palace, the religion used in cloisters was observed and kept. When the partner of his bed had exchanged this life for another, and that he perceived his duchy to be established, and that it should come without any controversy unto his posterity, he declared his mind, which was always religious and dedicate unto God, and showed what will and affection he had long borne in his heart; for he, contemning the pomp and state of this world, calling unto him his dear friends, departed and went into a wilderness; where, building a goodly abbey, he addicted himself wholly to the service of God, and, taking his cross upon him, followed Christ. In which place he being conversant by the space of many years, showed forth great example of holiness, wearing no other garments but such as could withstand the cold, neither using any kind of dainty fare, but only to resist hunger; watching and praying the most part of the night. Wherefore this prince is not newly come unto the church, as some do suppose, but, being a Christian, born of progenitors who were Christians during a thousand years and more, doth now serve God in a monastery. ‘But, as touching that, also, which is spoken concerning a wife, I do not regard it; when not he only who hath had a wife, but he also who hath a wife, may be elected and chosen pope. For why do the doctors dispute, whether a married man, being chosen pope, ought to perform his duty towards his wife, but only because a married man might be received and chosen? For, as you know well enough, there have been popes 575 that had wives; and Peter, also, was not without a wife. But why do we stand about this? for peradventure, it had been better that more priests had been married; for many should be saved through marriage, who are now damned through their single life. 103 But hereof we will,’ saith he, ‘speak in another place. But this seemeth unto me rather to be laughed at, than worthy any answer, which is objected touching his children; for in what can children (especially being of ripe age) be impediment or let unto the pope, being their father? Doth not the Scripture say, Wo be unto him that is alone; for if he fall, he hath none to help him up again? This cannot be imputed unto the prince, for he hath two sons, both comely and wise, whereof the one is prince of Piedmont, the other earl of Geneva. These men will rule the country of Savoy in the absence of their father, and will help him, if he have need; for they have already learned to rule over that people. I pray you, what hurt is it for a bishop of Rome to have valiant children, who may help their father against tyrants? ‘O most reverend fathers! the more I do behold the storm of this most perverse and froward time, the more I do consider the vexations and troubles which the church is now tormented withal, I do so much the more think it profitable, yea and necessary, that this man should be chosen prince and head; and I shall think that God hath showed his mercy upon us, if I may see him have the governance over this ship. I pray you consider into what straits we are now driven, with what perils we are now vexed and tossed. What prince is it that is obedient unto this council? for some will not confess that the council is here, neither receive our decrees; other some confess it in their words, but by their deeds they declare it to be at Florence. For, albeit that by their words and letters they do not deny that the church is here, yet.do they procure promotions at the hands of Gabriel, who is deposed. ‘This is the state of the church; with these storms and tempests the ship is shaken and bruised. Wicked children have risen up against their mother, who, being unmindful of their mother’s labors and kindness towards them, despise her, contemn her, and beat her. What is to be done herein? Shall we choose a bare man, who shall rather be derided of our princes, than had in reverence? The days are not now, that men have respect only unto virtue, for, as the satirical poet writeth, “Probitas laudatur et alget,” Goodness is praised, but neglected. A poor man speaketh, and they ask, What is he? Truly virtue is good, but for our purpose it must be marked and looked upon, whether it be in a rich man, or a poor man: you must choose a governor, who may rule the ship not only by counsel, but by power also. The wind is great; wherefore, except the counsel be good, and the power strong, the ship shall be wrecked, and all put in danger. The memorial, however, is yet fresh before our eyes, that the princes do neglect authority which is devoid of power. Is there not great valiantness showed in this point, in that you, fearing no peril nor danger, neither of life nor goods, have so long contended for the truth of Christ? The princes ought therefore to kiss the ground on which you had trodden. Yet because the powerful prelates and the famous Cardinals have left you, you see what the princes likewise have done. But the most mighty and high God looketh down from on high, and will resist this their pride. ‘I have often consented unto their opinion who said, it was expedient that temporal dominion should be divided from the ecclesiastical state; for I did think that the priests should thereby be made more apt to the divine ministry, and secular princes more obedient to the clergy. But now I have learnt that virtue without power is laughed at, and that the Roman pontiff without the church’s patrimony would only be the slave of kings and princes; which Constantine foreseeing, did piously endow the church. But, forsomuch as, at this present, the lands of the church are possessed, partly by Eugene, and partly by other tyrants, we must provide that we choose such a one, who may recover again the patrimony of the church, and in whom the office of Christ’s vicar may not be contemned; through the shield of whose power their contumacy may be suppressed, who contemn both verity and reason. Whereunto no man seemeth unto me more apt or meet than Amedeus, duke of Savoy, who holdeth the one part of his possessions in Italy, and the other in France; unto whom all christian princes are allied either by consanguinity, or joined by amity and friendship, and whose virtue, how famous it is, I have already declared. ‘Why do we then stay or doubt to choose him, than whom Gabriel feareth no man more? Let him, therefore, perish with the sword, wherewithal he hath stricken. There is no man who can more pacify the church than he. Do ye require devotion in a bishop? there is no man more devout than he. Do you require prudence? now ye understand by his former life, what manner of man he is. If ye seek for justice, his people are a witness thereof; so that whether you seek for virtue or power, all are here present before you. Whereupon do ye stay? Go to, I pray you, choose this man. He will augment the faith, he will reform manners, and preserve the authority of the church. Have ye not heard these troubles of the church to have been before spoken of, and that the fortieth year, being the year now present, should be an end of all troubles? Have ye not heard that about this time there should a pope be chosen, who should comfort Sion, and set all things in peace? and who, I pray you, should he be that could fulfill these things, except we choose this man? Believe me, the Scriptures 577 must be fulfilled, and I trust that God will move your minds, however unwilling. Notwithstanding, do ye rather willingly whatsoever is right and holy.’ When he had spoken these words, the greatest number of the electors seemed to consent unto him, and his words took such effect, that in the next scrutiny the matter was finished. *For on the nones of November, about ten of the clock in the forenoon,* the scrutiny being opened and the numbers compared, it was found that Amedeus, the most devout duke of Savoy, according to the decree of the council was chosen pope, *twentysix voices consenting and agreeing upon him.* Wherefore suddenly, there was great joy and gladness amongst them, and all men highly commended their doing. 104 Wherefore,” the notaries and witnesses being called in, a great indenture was made concerning the election. Which thing finished, and the witnesses being sent away, about one of the clock in the afternoon there was a rush made to the windows which were toward the street, and the casements thereof broken with axes. And when the people gathered together in great number, marvelling at the strange noise, there was a cross of silver showed unto them. The whole city was now in the street, and looking up to the window desired to know the name of him that was chosen.* Then the cardinal Arelatensis published unto them the name of the bishop elect. After this, about three of the clock, all the prelates in their copes and mitres, and all the clergy of the city, coming unto the conclave, brought back the electors, being likewise adorned, unto the great church; where, after great thanks given unto God, and the election again declared unto the people, a hymn being sung for joy, the congregation was dissolved. This Amedeus aforesaid was a man of reverent age, of comely stature, of grave and discreet behavior; also before married. Who thus being elected for pope the seventeenth day of November, was called Felix V., and was crowned in the city of Basil, in the twenty-fourth day of July following. There were present at his coronation Louis, duke of Savoy; Philip, earl of Geneva; Louis, marquis of Saluzzo; the marquis of Rotelen; Conrad of Winsperg, chamberlain of the empire; the earl of Tierstein; the ambassadors of the cities of Strasburgh, Berne, Friburg, Soleure, with a great multitude of other beside, to the view of fifty thousand persons. At this coronation, the pope’s two sons did serve and minister to their father. The cardinal Arelatensis (being appointed thereto by the council instead of the bishop of Ostia, to whom it properly pertained) did set on his head the pontifical diadem, which was esteemed at thirty thousand crowns. It were long here to recite the whole order and solemnity of the procession, or the pope’s riding about the city. First proceeded the pope, under his canopy of cloth of gold, having on his head a triple crown, and blessing the people as he went. By him went the marquis of Rotelen, and Conrad of Winsperg, leading his horse by the bridle. The following day, the whole city went to an entertainment, which lasted four full hours, being excessively sumptuous; where the pope’s two sons were butlers to his cup, the marquis of Saluzzo was the steward, etc. Of this Felix thus writeth Volateran in the third book of his Geography, That he, being desired of certain of the ambassadors, if he had any dogs or hounds, to show them, willed them the next day to repair unto him, and he would show unto them such as he had. When the ambassadors, according to the appointment, were come, he showeth unto them a great number of poor people and beggars, sitting at his tables at meat, declaring that those were his hounds, which he every day used to feed, hunting with them (he trusted) for the glory of heaven to come. And thus you have heard the state of this council hitherto, which council endured a long season, the space of twelve years. About the sixth year of the council, Sigismund the emperor died, leaving but one daughter to succeed him in his kingdoms, whom he had married to Albert the Second, duke of Austria, who first succeeded in the kingdom of Hungary and Bohemia, being a sore adversary to the Bohemians, and afterward was made emperor, A.D. 1438, and reigned emperor but two years, leaving his wife, who was Sigismund’s daughter, great with child. After which Albert succeeded his brother Frederic the Third, duke of Austria, in the empire, etc., whereof more, Christ willing, hereafter. In the mean time, Eugene, hearing of the death of Sigismund above recited, began to work the dissolution of the council of Basil, and to transfer it to Ferrara, pretending the coming of the Grecians. Notwithstanding, the council of Basil, through the disposition of God and the worthiness of cardinal Arelatensis, constantly endured. Albeit, in the said council were many stops and practices to impeach the same, beside the sore plague of pestilence which fell in the city during the said council; in the time of which plague, besides the death of many worthy men, Aeneas Sylvius also himself, the writer and compiler of the whole history of that council, sitting at the feet of the archbishop of Tours and the bishop of Lubeck, lay sick three days of the same sore, as is above touched, and never thought to escape. They that died, departed with this exhortation, desiring men to pray to God, that he would convert the hearts of them that stuck to Eugene as pope, against that council, as partly is before noted, and now repeated again, for the better marking. Arelatensis, being most instantly exhorted by his friends to fly that danger, could by no means be entreated to avoid, fearing more the danger of the church, than of his own life. Beside these so great difficulties and obstacles to stay and hinder this council, strange it was to behold the mutation of men’s minds, of whom such as first seemed to favor the council, afterwards did impugn it; and such as before were against it, in the end showed themselves most friends unto the same. The chief cardinals and prelates, the more they had to lose, the sooner they slipped away, or else lurked in houses or towns near, and absented themselves for fear; so that the stay of the council most rested upon their proctors, doctors, archdeacons, deans, provosts, priors, and such other of the inferior sort. Whereof Aeneas Sylvius, in his one hundred and eighty-third epistle 106 , maketh this relation, where one Gaspar Schlick, the emperor’s chancellor, writeth to the cardinal Julian in these words: “Those cardinals,” saith he, “who so long a time magnified so highly the authority of the church, and of general councils, seeming as though they were ready to spend their lives for the same, now, at the sight of one letter from their king (wherein yet no death was threatened, but only loss of their promotions), slipt away from Basil.” And in the same epistle, he deridingly commendeth them as wise men, that had rather lose their faith than their flock. “Albeit,” saith he, “they departed not far away, but remained, about Solcure, waiting for other commandments from their prince, whereby it may appear how they did not shrink away willingly: but the burse,” quoth he, “bindeth faster than true honor; “Quid enim salvis infamia nummis?” that is to say, “What matter maketh the name of man, so his money be safe?” Moreover, in one of the sessions of the said council, the worthy cardinal 579 Arelatensis 107 is said thus to have reported, That Christ was sold for thirty pieces of silver: “But I,” said he, “was sold much more dear; for Gabriel, otherwise called pope Eugene, offered threescore thousand crowns of gold, whoso would take me, and present me unto him.” And they that took the said cardinal, afterwards excused their fact by another color, pretending as the cause, that the cardinal’s brother, what time the Armagnacs wasted Alsace, had brought great damage to the inhabitants there; and therefore they thought (said they) that they might lawfully lay hands upon a Frenchman, wheresoever they might take him. At length, by the bishop of Strasburg, Rupert, and the said city, the matter was taken up, and he rescued; wherein, no doubt, appeared the hand of God, in defending his life from the pestilent danger of the pope, his adversary. And thus far having proceeded in the matters of this aforesaid council until the election of Amedeus, called pope Felix V., before we prosecute the rest that remaineth thereof to be spoken, the order and course of times requireth to intermix withal the residue pertaining to the matters concluded between this council and the Bohemians, declaring the whole circumstances of the ambassade, their articles, disputations, and answers, which they had first in the said council, then in their own country with the council’s ambassadors; also with their petitions and answers unto the same. Touching the story of the Bohemians, how they, being sent for, came up to the council of Basil, and how they appeared, and what was there concluded and agreed, partly before hath been expressed. Now, as leisure serveth,from other matters to return again unto the same, it remaineth to prosecute the rest that lacketh, so far as both brevity may be observed, and yet the reader not defrauded of such things principally worthy in the same to be noted and known. A FURTHER CONTINUATION OF THE MEMORABLE HISTORY OF THE BOHEMIANS, BEING A BRIEF EPITOME, SHOWING HOW THEY WERE CALLED AND BROUGHT UNTO THE COUNCIL OF BASIL; Briefly collected and gathered out of the Commentaries of AEneas Sylvius. *Forsomuch 1 as the Bohemians, as is before said, being incensed for the death of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, persevered still in the maintaining of their opinions, Julian, cardinal of St. Angelo, was sent ambassador into Germany to make preparation against them; for the bishop of Rome thought that nation would have easily been vanquished by the Germans. But the matter came far otherwise to pass; for the Germans, being often put to flight, as is aforesaid, they put such a terror into the hearts of all the borderers, that Germany desired nothing more than peace.* The Bohemians then, as is before declared, having always the upper hand, albeit they were accursed by the new pope Eugene, yet it was thought good that they should be called unto Basil, where the council was appointed. Whereupon cardinal Jillian sent thither before John Polemar, doctor of the law, and John de Ragusa, a divine; who coming unto Basil in the month of August, A.D. 1431, called by their letters unto the council John, abbot of Mulbrun, and John Gethusius, monk of the same cloister; which men for dexterity of their wit, and experience, and knowledge of countries, were very meet and necessary for ambassades. Within a few days after, Julian also came thither, as he had promised, and immediately sent out John Gethusius, and Haman Offenbourgh, a senator of Basil, first, unto the emperor Sigismund, being at Feldkirch, 582 and afterward unto Frederic, duke of Austria, for the appeasing of the wars between him and Philip, duke of Burgundy. This was done, to the intent that peace being had, not only the ecclesiastical prelates, but also the merchants, might have safe access unto Basil, and so bring in all things necessary for sustentation. They, going on this ambassade, received letters from the synod to be delivered unto the emperor Sigismund, whereby the Bohemians and Moravians were called unto the council. These letters he by-and-by caused to be carried unto Bohemia. But, forsomuch as he himself went into Italy, to receive the imperial crown of the pontiff, he left William, duke of Bavaria, as his deputy, to be protector unto the council. Furthermore, when the synod understood that our men 583 would take a peace with the Bohemians after their most shameful flight, they sent John Nider, 584 a divine, and John Gethusius, to comfort the people who joined upon Bohemia, and earnestly to move the Moravians and Bohemians, who were before called, to come unto the council. They, departing from Basil the thirtieth of October, took their journey toward Munich, a town of Bavaria; where, after they had saluted William, duke of Bavaria, and his brother Ernest, and Albert, the son of Ernest, and had declared the commission of their ambassade, and had showed unto duke William, how that, as soon as he should come unto Basil, the protection of the council should be committed unto him by the emperor; they exhorted Frederic, marquis of Brandenburgh, and John, duke of Bavaria, the senate of Nuremberg, and other princes and lords, partly by the letters of the council, and partly by word of mouth, that they should by no means take any truce with the Bohemians, for that it might be hurtful unto the church; and said, they should have aid out of hand. They desired them also, in the name of the council, That if the Bohemians would send their ambassadors unto Basil, they would guide them, every man through his country, in safety; which they promised to do. It is incredible how all men rejoiced that the Bohemians were sent for. After this, when they counselled with the senate of Nuremberg, touching the sending of the council’s letters into Bohemia, it seemed best first of all to inquire of the rulers of Egra, whether the Bohemians had made any answer to the former letters of the council which they had sent. The rulers of Egra, being advertised by these letters, sent him who carried the council’s letters into Bohemia unto Nuremberg. He reported how reverently the council of the greater city of Prague received the letters, and how he was rewarded; whereupon they conceived great hope of the good success of the ambassade. Therefore the ambassadors, using the counsel of the senate of Nuremberg and divers others, sent the messenger back again unto Egra, with their own private letters, and with letters of the council: for there was no better mean to send the letters to Bohemia. Much travail was taken by them of Egra, Frederic, marquis of Brandenburgh, and John, duke of Bavaria, in this matter; for that they were very desirous that peace might be had amongst Christians. The copy of those letters, whereby the synod did call the Bohemians unto the council, and other letters exhortatory of the ambassadors, and the Bohemians’ answer unto the same, for brevity’s cause we have here pretermitted. The Bohemians, not in all points trusting unto the ambassadors, required by their letters that the council’s ambassadors, with the other princes, would come unto Egra, where their ambassadors should be also present, to intreat upon the safeconduct and other matters. The day appointed for the meeting was the Sunday after Easter, which was the 27th day of April. Then came the ambassadors of the council unto Egra, with the noble princes, Frederic, marquis of Bran-denburgh, and John, duke of Bavaria, with other nobles, and almost to the number of two hundred and fifty horse. 2 But none of the Bohemians were present, because the inhabitants of Pilsen, and the lord of Swanberg, had not sent their safe-conduct. When they understood this by their letters, they brought it to pass, that the ambassadors of the Bohemians, Nicholas Humpolz, secretary of the greater city of Prague, and Matthias Clompezan, president of Piesta, should be brought forth by them of Egra and of Elnbogen; 585 and so they came unto Egra with nineteen horse, the eighth day of May. the next day after, Henry Token received the Bohemian ambassadors before the marquis with an eloquent oration, taking this part of the gospel for his theme, “Pax vobis,” that is, “Peace be with you.” Then they propounded what great injuries they had hitherto received at their hands, which was the cause of so many great slaughters on either party, and that they were glad that yet now, at the length, there was some hope that they should be heard. After this they conferred 586 as touching the safe-conduct. The Bohemians required pledges, and that, not of the common sort, but princes and nobles. Which thing forsomuch as it did not content: the ambassadors, and so the matter should be put off, the common people of Egra began to cry out, That it was long of the ecclesiastics 587 and princes that a concord was not made with the Bohemians. Then Frederic, marquis of Brandenburgh, and John, duke of Bavaria, bound themselves of their own good-will; the like also did William, duke of Bavaria, at the request of the council; likewise also did the council and the emperor Sigismund. Furthermore, promise was made, That all the princes and cities should do the like, through whose dominion they should come, and the city of Basil also; the copy of which safe-conduct was afterward sent unto Prague. This also was required by the Bohemians, That if it were possible the emperor should be present at the council. This convention at Egra continued twenty-one days. But the Bohemians, albeit they heard the council’s ambassadors make great promises, yet did they not fully give credit unto them. Whereupon they chose out two ambassadors, Nicholas Humpolz, and John of Saatz, 589 who should go to Basil and diligently inquire out all things. These men Conrad, bishop of Ratisbon, and Conrad Seglawer, dean of Eichstadt, brought unto Cadolzburg, 590 where the marquis of Brandenburgh dwelt, being sent out by the synod a little before, to inquire whether the Bohemian ambassadors would come or not. When they were come to Biberack, one being over curious, inquired of one of the Bohemian ambassadors, of what country he was. He answered that he was of Saatz. “There,” said he, “are most execrable heretics and naughty men,” etc.; who, for that slanderous word, as a breaker of the truce, was straightway carried to prison, and there should have suffered more punishment, if the Bohemian ambassadors, and the abbot of Eberbach, had not entreated for him. When they came to Basil, they were honorably received with wine and fish: they tarried there five days and a half. The tenth day of October they came unto the synod, which was assembled at the friars Augustine. These ambassadors, when they were returned home with the charter of the synod, and declared those things which they had seen, and that the matter was earnestly handled without fraud or deceit; there were ambassadors chosen to be sent unto the council, both for the kingdom of Bohemia, and the marquisdom of Moravia; who coming unto Tauss, were brought from thence with thirty-two horse, and divers noble men, unto Chain. From thence they came to Schwandorf, and so unto Nuremberg, where, beside their entertainment of wine and fish, twenty-two horsemen accompanied them unto Ulm; from thence they of Ulm brought them unto Biberack and Saulgau, where James Truchses de Walpurg, a knight, receiving them, brought them to Stockach, and from thence the bands of William, duke of Bavaria, brought them unto Schaffhausen. There they taking ship, on the 4th day of January came to Basil. What were the names of these ambassadors of the Bohemians, who were brought up with three hundred horse, and how they were received at Basil, mention is made before. When they came before the synod the 9th day 591 of the same month, cardinal Julian made an oration, That whatsoever was in any place in doubt, the same ought to be determined by the authority of the council, forsomuch as all men were bound to submit themselves to the judgment of the holy church, which the general council did represent.—Which oration was not allowed of all the Bohemians. Then Rochezanus made an oration, 592 requiring to have a day appointed when they should be heard, which was appointed the 16th day of the same month; upon which day John Rochezanus, having made his preface, began to propound the first article, touching the communion to be ministered under both kinds, and disputed upon the same by the space of three days, always before noon. Then one Nicolas, a Taborite, 593 disputed upon the second article, touching the correction and punishing of sin, by the space of two days. After whom Ulderic, priest of the Orphans, propounded and disputed upon the third article by the space of two days, touching the free preaching of the word of God. Last of all Peter Paine, 594 an Englishman, disputed three days upon the fourth article, touching the civil dominion of the clergy: and afterward they gave copies of their disputations in writing unto the council, with hearty thanks that they were heard. The three last did somewhat inveigh against the council, commending John Huss and John Wickliff for evangelical doctors. Whereupon John de Ragusa, 595 the divine, rising up, desired that he might have leave to answer in his own name, to the first article of the Bohemians. The council consented thereunto; so that by the space of eight days in the forenoon he disputed thereupon. But, before he began to answer, John, the abbot of Citeaux, made an oration unto the Bohemians, that they should submit themselves to the determination of holy church, which this council (said he) doth represent. This matter did not a little offend the Bohemians. John Ragusinus, the divine, after scholars’ fashion, in his answer spake often of heresies and heretics. Procopius could not suffer it, but, rising up with an angry stomach, complained openly to the council of this injury. “This our countryman,” saith he, “doth us great injury, calling us oftentimes heretics.” Whereunto Ragusinus answered, “forasmuch as I am your countryman both by tongue and nation, I do the more desire to reduce you again unto the church.” He was a Dalmatian born, and it appeareth that the Dalmatians, going into Bohemia, took their name from the country which they possessed. It came almost to this point, that through this offense the Bohemians would depart from Basil, and could scarcely be appeased. Certain of the Bohemians would not hear Ragusinus finish his disputation. After him a famous divine, one Giles Charlier, dean of the church of Cambray, answered unto the second article, by the space of four days. To the third article answered one Henry, surnamed Kalteisen, 596 three days together. Last of all John Polemar, before-mentioned, master of the requests of the palace, answered unto the fourth article likewise, by the space of three days, so that the long time which they used in disputations seemed tedious unto the Bohemians. Notwithstanding this answer, the Bohemians still defended their articles, and especially the first, insomuch that John Rochezanus did strongly impugn Ragusinus’ answer by the space of six days. But, forsomuch as one disputation bred another, and it was not perceived how that by this means any concord could be made, the prince William, duke of Bavaria, protector of the council, attempted another remedy, that all disputations being set apart, the matter should be friendly debated. There were certain appointed on either part to treat upon the concord; who coming together the 11th day of March, those who were appointed for the council, were demanded to say their minds. “It seemeth good,” said they, “if these men would be united unto us, and be made one body with us, that this body might then accord, declare, and determine, all manner of diversities of opinions and sects, what is to be believed or done in them.” The Bohemians, when they had awhile paused, said, “This way seemed not apt enough, except, first of all, the four articles were exactly discussed, so that either we should agree with them, or they with us; for, otherwise, it would be but a frivolous matter, if they being now united, again disagree in the deciding of the articles.” Here answer was made to the Bohemians, That if they were rightly united, and the aid of the Holy Ghost called for, they should not err in the deciding of the matter, forsomuch as every Christian ought to believe that determination; which if they would do, it would breed a most firm and strong concord and amity on either part. — But this answer satisfied them not, insomuch that the other three rose up, and disputed against the answers which were given. At that time cardinal Julian, president of the council, made this oration unto the Bohemian ambassadors. “This sacred synod,” saith he, “hath now, by the space of ten days, patiently heard the propositions of your four articles;” and afterwards he annexed, “You have propounded,” saith he, “four articles; but we understand that, beside these four, you have many other strange doctrines, wherein ye dissent from us. Wherefore it is necessary, if a perfect unity and fraternity shall follow between us, that all these things be declared in the council, to the end that by the grace of the Holy Ghost, who is the author of peace and truth, due provision may be made therein. For we have not gathered these things of light conjectures, but have heard them of credible persons, and partly here are some present who have seen them with their own eyes in Bohemia, and partly we do gather it by your own report: for Master Nicholas, who was the second that did propound, amongst other things alleged, that John Wickliff was an evangelical doctor. If ye believe him to be a true doctor, it followeth that you must repute his works as authentic; if ye do not so think, it is reason that it should be opened unto us. Wherefore we desire you, that you will certify us upon these and certain other points, what you do believe, or what credit you do give unto them. But we do not require, that you should now declare your reasons; but it shall satisfy us, if you will answer unto every article by this word, ‘credimus’ or, ‘non credimus;’ that is, ‘we believe,’ or, ‘we believe not.’ Which if you will do (as we trust you will), then we shall manifestly perceive that you desire, that we should conceive a good estimation of you. If there be any thing whereof you would be certified by us, ask it boldly, and we will give you an answer out of hand; for we are ready, according to the doctrine of St. Peter, to render account unto every man who shall require it, touching the faith which we hold.” Hereunto the Bohemian ambassadors answered in few words, that they came only to propound those four articles, not in their own name, but in the name of the whole kingdom of Bohemia;—and spake no more. Whereupon William, the noble protector of the council, calling unto him four men on either part, treated touching he pacifying the matter; by whose advice the council decreed to send a famous ambassade with the Bohemian ambassadors unto Prague, where the people should assemble upon Trinity Sunday. 597 But they would not receive these conditions of peace which were offered, but made haste to depart. Whereupon, on the 14th day of April, there were ten chosen out of the council, to go with the Bohemian ambassadors unto Prague. It were too long here to declare what honor was done unto these ambassadors all the way in their journey, and especially when they came into Bohemia, by the citizens of Prague, when a great number of Bohemians were assembled at Prague at the day appointed, both of the clergy, nobility, and common people. After the coming of those ambassadors, much contention began to rise between the parties. First began John Rochezanus, who speaking in the public person of the commonalty, labored to commend and prefer the four verities of the Bohemians before propounded; charging also the prelates and priests, for their slanderous obtrectations and undeserved contumelies, wherewith they did infame the noble kingdom of Bohemia; complaining also that they would not receive those christian verities, left and allowed by their king Wenceslaus now departed. Wherefore he required them in the behalf of the whole nation, that they would leave off hereafter to oppress them in such sort, that they would restore to them again their Joseph’s vesture; that is, the ornament of their good fame and name, whereof their brethren, their enemies, had spoiled them, etc. To this Polemar maketh answer again, with a long and curious oration, exhorting them to peace and unity of the church, which if they would embrace, all other obstacles and impediments (said he) should be soon removed: promising also, that this their vesture of honor and fame should be amply restored again; and that afterwards, if there were any doubtful matters, they might and should be the better discussed. But all this pleased not the Bohemians, unless they might first have a declaration of their four articles, which if they might obtain, they promised then to embrace peace and concord; which peace (said they) began first to be broken by themselves, in that the council of Constance, by their unjust condemnation, burned John Huss and Jerome of Prague, and also, by their cruel bulls and censures, raised up first excommunication, then war, against the whole kingdom of Bohemia. Hereunto Polemar, reclaiming again, began to advance and magnify the honor and dignity of general councils. To conclude, as much as the said Polemar did extol the authority of the councils, so much did the answer of the Bohemians extenuate the same; saying, That the later councils, which are not expressed in the law of God, have erred, and might err, not only in faith, but also in manners, For that which hath chanced to the green wood, may also chance unto the dry. But of others, the most strong pillars of the militant church, the apostles I mean, seem all to have erred, and the catholic faith to have remained three days sound and uncorrupt only in the Virgin Mary. No christian man, therefore, ought to be compelled to stand to the determination of the pope or the council, except it be in that which is plainly expressed in the law of God. For it is evident, that all the general councils which have been of long time, have reformed very few things as touching the faith, peace and manners of the church, but have always, both in their life and decrees, notoriously, swerved, and have not established themselves upon the foundation, which is Christ. Wherefore the said Bohemians protested, that they would not simply and plainly (God being their good Lord) yield themselves to their doctrine, nor to such rash and hasty decrees; lest, through that their hasty and uncircumspect submission, they should bind their faith and life contrary to the wholesome and sound doctrine of our Lord Christ Jesus. In short, in no case would they enter into any agreement of peace, except their four articles, which they counted for evangelical verities, were first accepted and approved. Which being obtained (said they), if they would condescend with them in the verity of the gospel, so would they join together, and be made one with them in the Lord, etc. When the ambassadors saw the matter would not otherwise be brought to pass, they required to have those articles delivered unto them in a certain form, which they sent unto the council by three Bohemian ambassadors. Afterwards the council sent a declaration into Bohemia, to be published unto the people in the common assemblies of the kingdom by the ambassadors, who were commanded to report unto the Bohemians, in the name of the council, that if they would receive the declaration of those three articles, and the unity of the church, there should be a mean found whereby the matter touching the first article, of the communion under both kinds, should be passed with peace and quietness. They propounded in Prague, in an open assembly of the nobles and commons, the declaration of the three articles in form following: A DECLARATION OF THE COUNCIL OF BASIL TOUCHING THE THREE LAST ARTICLES OF THE BOHEMIANS, ALREADY ALLEGED. Forsomuch as touching the doctrine of the verity, we ought to proceed soberly and warily, that the truth may be declared with words so orderly conceived and uttered, that there be no offense given to any man, whereby he should fall to take occasion of error, and (to use the words of Isidore) that nothing by obscurity be left doubtful: whereas you have propounded touching the inhibition and correction of sins in these words, ‘All mortal sins, and especially open offenses, ought to be rooted out, punished, and inhibited, by them whose duty it is so to do, reasonably and according to the law of God;’ here it is to be marked and understand, that these words, ‘whose duty it is,’ are too general, and may be an offense; and according to the meaning of the Scripture, we ought not to lay any stumbling stock before the blind, and the ditches are to be closed up, that our neighbor’s ox do not fall therein: all occasion of offense is to be taken away. Therefore we say, that according to the meaning of the holy Scripture, and the doctrine of the holy doctors, it is thus universally to be holden, that all mortal sins, especially public offenses, are to be rooted out, corrected, and inhibited, as reasonably as may be, according to the law of God, and the institutions of the fathers. The power to punish these offenders doth not pertain unto any private person, but only unto those who have jurisdiction of the law over them, the distinction of law and justice being orderly observed. As touching the preaching of the word of God, which article you have alleged in this form, ‘That the word of God should be freely and faithfully preached by the fit and apt ministers of the Lord: lest by this word ‘freely’ occasion might be taken of disordered liberty (which, as you have often said, you do not mean), the circumstance thereof is to be understand; and we say, that (according to the meaning of the holy Scripture, and doctrine of the holy fathers) it is thus universally to be believed: That the word of God ought freely, but not every where, but faithfully and orderly, to be preached by the priests and Levites of the Lord, being allowed and sent by their superiors unto whom that office appertaineth; the authority of the bishop always reserved, who is the provider of all things, according to the institution of the holy Fathers. As concerning the last article, expressed under these words, ‘It is not lawful for the christian clergy, in the time of the law of grace, to have dominion over temporal goods;’ we remember that in the solemn disputation holden in the sacred council, he who was appointed by the council to dispute, propounded two conclusions in this sort: First, that such of the clergy as were not religious, and had not bound themselves thereunto by a vow, might lawfully have and possess any temporal goods; as the inheritance of his father or any other, if it be left unto him; or any other goods justly gotten by means of any gift, or other lawful contract, or else some lawful art. The second conclusion, ‘The church may lawfully have and possess temporal goods, moveable and unmoveable, houses, lands, towns and villages, castles and cities; and in them have a private and civil dominion.’ Your ambassador who disputed against him, granted those conclusions, saying, That they did not impugn the sense of this article being well understand, forsomuch as he understandeth this article of civil dominion, formally meant. Whereby, and also by other things. it may be understand, that those words, ‘to have secular dominion,’ expressed in the aforesaid article, seem to be referred to some special manner or kind of dominion. But forsomuch as the doctrine of the church is not to be intreated upon by any ambiguous or doubtful words, but fully and plainly; therefore we have thought good more plainly to express that, which according to the law of God, and the doctrine of the holy doctors, is universally to be believed; that is to say, the two aforesaid conclusions to be true. And also, that the clergy ought faithfully to distribute the goods of the Church, whose administrators they are, according to the decrees of the holy Fathers; and that the usurpation of the administration of the church goods, done by any other than by them, unto whom the administration is canonically committed, cannot be without guilt of sacrilege. ‘Thus the sacred council,’ said they, ‘hath diligently gone about, according to the verity of the gospel, all ambiguity set apart, to expound the true sense of the three aforesaid articles. Wherefore, if there do yet remain any doubt, according to the information which we have received in the sacred council, we are ready, by God’s help, who is the principal Verity, to declare the truth unto you. If ye do receive and embrace the declaration of the said three articles, which is grounded upon the verity of the holy Scripture, as you are bound, and will effectually have a pure, simple, and perfect unity; touching the liberty of the communion under both kinds, which you desire and require, which also you cannot lawfully have without the license of holy church, we have authority from the general council by certain means to intreat and conclude with you, trusting that you will show yourselves as you will continue.’ These things thus declared, after the Bohemians had taken deliberation, they said, That they would give no answer unto the premises, before they understood what should be offered them as touching the communion. Wherefore it shall be necessary to declare the matter, as it was written in form following: A DECLARATION OF THE COUNCIL OF BASIL TOUCHING THE FIRST ARTICLE OF THE COMMUNION. In the name of God and our Savior Jesus Christ, upon the sacrament of whose most blessed Last Supper we are about to intreat, that He who hath instituted this most blessed sacrament of unity and peace, may work this effect in us, and make us that we may be one in the said Lord Jesu our Head, and that he may subvert all the subtleties of the devil; who, through his envious craftiness, hath made the sacrament of peace and unity an occasion of war and discord, that, whilst Christians do contend touching the manner of communicating, they may be deprived of the fruit of the communion. Wherefore St. Augustine in his Sermon upon Infants, cited in the Decrees ‘De consecrat. Distinct. 2. ‘Quia passus,’ saith thus: ‘So the Lord Jesus Christ sanctified 598 us, and willed that we should appertain unto him, and consecrated the mystery of our peace and unity upon the table. He that receiveth the mystery of unity, and doth not keep the bond of peace, doth not receive a mystery for himself, but a testimony against himself.’ This we thought good above all things to be premised, that the general custom of the church, which your fathers and you also in times past have observed, hath a long time had and still useth, that they who do not consecrate, communicate only under the kind of bread. Which custom being lawfully brought in by the church and holy fathers, and now a long time observed, it is not lawful to reject, or to change at your will and pleasure, without the authority of the church. Therefore, to change the custom of the church, and to take in hand to communicate unto the people under both kinds, without the authority of holy church, is altogether unlawful; but holy church, upon reasonable occasions, may grant liberty to communicate unto the people under both kinds. And every communion, which, being attempted without the authority and license of the church, should be unlawful, when it is done with the authority of holy church, shall be lawful, if other things let it not: we say ‘if other things let it not,’ because, as the apostle saith, ‘He that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh his own damnation.’ Whereupon St. Isidore, as cited in Distinct. 2. ‘De consecratione,’ cap. ‘Qui scelerate,’ writeth thus: ‘They who live wickedly, and cease not daily to communicate in the church, thinking thereby to be cleansed, let them learn that it doth nothing at all profit them to the cleansing of their sins.’ And St. Augustine, in the same distinction, cap. ‘Et sancta,’ saith, ‘Holy things may hurt the evil, for unto the good they are salvation, but unto the evil damnation.’ There are beside this many other authorities. The apostle Judas was amongst those who did first communicate, but forsomuch as he received unworthily, having the sin of treason in his heart, it did profit him nothing; but the devil by-and-by exercised the more power and authority over him. This is declared by a great reason. Which of you is it, that, if you should receive your lord into your house, would not with all diligence and care study to make clean and adorn his house, that he may receive his lord honestly? Much more he that shall receive his Lord and Savior into the house of his soul, ought diligently to make clean and deck his soul; to cleanse it by the sacrament of penance, with sorrow and contrition of heart, humbly, purely, and truly confessing his sins, and making due satisfaction and penance; to adorn and deck the same with the purple or rich array of devotion, that the heart being so purged and adorned with fervent desire, he may come to that most holy sacrament, whereby God reconcileth all the world unto him. Wherefore the most sacred synod admonisheth, exhorteth, and commandeth, that all priests should diligently exhort and admonish the people, and that they should use all their care and endeavor, that no man come to that most blessed sacrament, except he be duly prepared with great reverence and devotion, lest that which is received for the salvation of the soul, redound to its condemnation, through the unworthy receiving thereof. Moreover, doctors do say, that the custom of communicating unto the people only under the kind of bread was reasonably introduced by the church and holy fathers for reasonable causes, especially for the avoiding of two perils—error and irreverence. Of error, as to think that the one part of Christ’s body were in the bread, and the other part in the cup; which were a great error. Of irreverence, forsomuch as many things may happen, as well on the part of the minister, as on the part of the receiver: as it is said, that it happened when a certain priest carried the sacrament of the cup unto a sick man, when he should have ministered, he found nothing in the cup, being all spilt by the way, with many other such like chances. We have heard, moreover, that it hath often happened, that the sacrament consecrated in the cup hath not been sufficient for the number of communicants, whereby a new consecration must be made, which is not agreeable to the doctrine of the holy fathers; and, also, that oftentimes they do minister wine unconsecrated for consecrate wine, which is a great peril. By this means then, it shall be brought to pass, that if you will effectually receive the unity and peace of the church, in all other things besides the use of the communion under both kinds, conforming yourselves to the faith and order of the universal church, you that have that use and custom, shah communicate still, by the authority of the church, under both kinds; and this article shall be discussed fully in the sacred council, where you shall see what, as touching this article, is to be holden as a universal verity, and is to be done for the profit and salvation of the christian people: and all things being thus throughly handled, then, if you persevere in your desire, and your ambassadors do require it, the sacred council will grant license in the Lord unto your ministers, to communicate unto the people under both kinds; that is to say, to such as be of lawful years and discretion, and shall reverently and devoutly require the same: this always observed, that the ministers shall say unto those who shall communicate, that they ought firmly to believe, not the flesh only to be contained under the form of bread, and the blood only under the wine, but under each kind to be whole and perfect Christ. Thus, hitherto, we have declared the decree of the council. As touching the other doubts and questions which were afterwards moved by the masters and priests 599 of Bohemia, the ambassadors of the council answered thus: First they said, That it was not the meaning of the sacred council, to suffer the communion under both kinds by toleration, or as the libel of divorcement was permitted to the Jews; forsomuch as the council, intending even to open the bowels of motherly charity and pity unto the Bohemians and Moravians, doth not mean to suffer it with such kind of sufferance, which should not exclude sin, but so to grant it, that by the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of his true spouse the church, it may be lawful, profitable, and healthful, unto those who worthily receive the same. Also, as touching that which was spoken by the said Bohemians, of the punishing of offenses, that it is in the Scriptures, how that God oftentimes stirreth up the hearts of private persons to the correcting and punishing of sins, and so it should seem lawful unto the inferiors to correct and punish their superiors: they answered, alleging the text of St. Augustine in the thirty-third decree, “He that striketh wicked men in that they are wicked, and hath cause of death against them, is the minister of God: but he who, without any public administration or office, murdereth or maimeth any wicked thief, sacrilegious, adulterous, or perjured person, or any other offender, shall be judged as a homicide; and so much the more sharply, in that he feared not to abuse and usurp the power not granted him of God.” And truly this city would take it much more grievously, if any private man should attempt to punish an offender, and set up a gallows in the street and there hang him, than if one man should kill another in brawl or quarrel. They alleged, also, other texts of St. Ambrose and St. Jerome, agreeable to the same. They said that no man doubteth that the law of God is duly and holily appointed, and therein is simply written, “Thou shalt not steal;” and, notwithstanding, by the commandment of God, the children of Israel carried away the goods of the Egyptians, which they had borrowed of them. Also, in the same law it is plainly written, “Thou shalt do no murder.” Whereupon St. Augustine, in his first book ‘De Civitate Dei,’ proveth that it is not lawful for any man to kill himself; and when he maketh example of Samson, he answereth with these words: “When God commandeth, and doth affirm himself to command, without any doubt, who is he that will call obedience sin? or who will accuse the obedience to God?” Here, in this proposition, you have the words of St. Augustine for answer. But let every man well foresee, if God do command, or that he do intimate the commandment without any circumstances, 600 and let him prove the spirits, whether they be of God. But in such cases there are no laws to be given, neither are they much to be talked of; for thereby there should easily arise occasion to make sedition, and for the inferiors to rise against the superiors. For, when any man had stolen any thing , or killed any man, he would say that he was moved thereunto by the Spirit of God: but without manifest proof thereof, he should be punished. Again, they said that there were certain cases wherein the laity had power over the clergy. It was answered, That there were certain cases in the law, wherein the laity had power over the clergy, and oftentimes over cardinals. For if, “the pope being dead, the cardinals would not enter the conclave to elect a new pope, the king, prince, or other lord or secular power, may compri them: but, in these cases, he is now no private person, but useth his jurisdiction by the authority of the law. The like is to be understand of all other cases expressed in the law. They said further, That no common law hath any right or justice, except God’s law do allow the same. It was answered, That no common law hath right or justice, if it be against the law of God: because the law of God is the rule of all other laws. 601 But great cunning is requisite in applying the rule to that which is to be ruled; for oftentimes it seemeth that there is crookedness in the thing ruled, when there is none indeed; but the default is in the applying, because the rule is not duly applied to the thing ruled. As touching the article of preaching the word of God, it was moved that oftentimes some prelates, through their own envy and malice, without any reasonable cause, did inhibit a good and meet preacher that preacheth catholicly and well. Answer was made, how that they understood well enough that the abuse of certain prelates, who did inordinately behave themselves, gave a great occasion of those troubles. But, that they never heard of any such complaints as to their country, 602 but that the prelates did favor good preachers, and stir them up to preach by entreaty, favor, and promotion. In all such cases there were remedies already provided by the law; for, when any man was so prohibited to use his right, he had remedy to appeal: and if he did trust his appeal to be just, he might use his right, all violence both of the spiritual and secular power set apart; for the end of the matter would declare, if he had just cause to appeal. Then would it be declared that the superior had done evil in prohibiting and the appellant justly in doing, and the superior for his unjust prohibition should be punished. But if he had been justly prohibited, and that through his temerity he did contemn the just commandment of his superior, he was worthy to be punished with condign punishment. Where it was moved concerning the fourth 603 article, Whether it were lawful for the ecclesiastical prelates to exercise in their proper person the acts of secular dominion: hereunto it was answered, That if by these words, “acts of secular dominion,” are understand acts which a secular lord may do or exercise, then is it to be said, that a prelate may lawfully exercise some such acts in his proper person, as to sell, to pawn or pledge, to enfeoff by manner and form ordained, by law:but there are some acts which it is not lawful for them to exercise in their proper person, but they ought to have, afterward, a vice-gerent or proctor to do the same: whereupon there is prohibition made in the law in the rubric, “Ne Clerus vel Monachus secularibus negotiis se immisceat, et in aliis rebus.” It was also moved, whether that coactive power, which ought to be exercised by a steward etc., be in the hands of an ecclesiastical prelate. Whereupon John Polemar answered, That this question pre-supposed another, whereof there were divers opinions amongst the doctors, In whose power the dominion of the church is: and furthermore, whether the actions be in the person of the tutor or proctor; or, albeit they be not in their person, they be notwithstanding in them by virtue of their appointment of agent or proctor, whose exercising of those actions they themselves authorize; with other intricacies, whereof it is not needful to speak at this present. But forsomuch as he was urged to say his opinion, he said, that to such as had either leisure or pleasure in disputation, and would argue against him, he would be contented to give the choice, to take which part he would: but his opinion was rather that the dominion of church matters is in the power of Christ; and that the prelates, with the other clergy, are but canonical administrators in manner of tutors: but they have more power and administration than tutors: and by appointing a steward or vice-gerent, the appointment being duly made, the steward or vice-gerent hath the same coactive power and exercise of jurisdiction. Also, as touching the fourth article, for the declaration of the first conclusion, it was agreed that these words, “juste acquisita,” i.e. “justly gotten,” alleged therein, included all things contained under that definition. Also, as touching the second conclusion, whereas the sacred canons and holy doctors speak thus: “The goods of the church, the substance of the church, and the possessions of the church;” and seeing there were divers opinions amongst the doctors, in whose power the dominion thereof should be, as it is noted in the Gloss on cap. “Expedit,” 12 Quaest. 1; they did not intend to constrain any man to any of those opinions; neither to exclude any of them; but that every man should have liberty probably to maintain which of them he might think best. Moreover the Bohemians said, That they did believe that the clergy are but administrators of the temporalties of the church, and not lords thereof, according to the manner of speaking of the Scriptures, holy doctors, and canons. Also the Bohemians said, That on all occasions which should hereafter arise, they would wholly stand to the determination of the judge agreed upon by all parties at Egra. In this manner did the ambassadors make answer unto the Bohemians. At the last, after much communication had to-and-fro, a concord and unity was concluded and confirmed by setting-to of their hands. The Bohemians promised to receive the peace and unity of the church, and the declaration of the three articles. This was done A.D. 1434, 604 about the feast of St. Martin. It was afterward agreed, both by the ambassadors of the council and those of Bohemia, that whatsoever remained should be determined and agreed upon, first at Ratisbon, afterward at Brunn, in the diocese of Olmutz; then at Stuhl-Weissenburg 605 in Hungary, before the emperor Sigismund. But the matter could not be ended in no place. AT THE LAST, THE CONCORD WAS CONFIRMED BY WRITING WITH THEIR SEALS AT IGLAU, A CITY OF MORAVIA, THE FIFTH DAY OF JULY, IN THE PRESENCE OF THE EMPEROR. Certain Petitions which the Bohemians put up, last of all, in the sacred Council of Basil, A.D. 1438, in the Month of November. Unto the most reverend fathers in Christ, and our most gracious lords: We, the ambassadors of the kingdom of Bohemia, do most humbly and heartily require you, that for the perpetual preservation of peace and concord, and for the firm preservation of all things contained in the composition, you will vouchsafe of your clemency to give and grant, unto us, all and singular our requests hereunder written, with effectual execution of the same. First, And above all things, we desire and require you, for the extirpation of divers dissensions and controversies which will undoubtedly follow amongst our people under the diversity of the communion, and for the abolishing of infinite evils which we are not able to express as we have conceived them, that you will gently vouchsafe, of your goodness and liberality, to give, grant, and command, unto our kingdom of Bohemia, and marquisdom of Moravia, one uniform order of the communion unto all men, under both kinds; that is to say, unto the archbishop of Prague, the bishops of Lythomysl and Olmutz, and other prelates of the kingdom and marquisdom, having care of souls, and to their vicars, and also to their flocks and subjects: and that according to those things which are contained in the bull of the ambassadors, and in the compositions made in the name of the whole council, written in the chapter, ‘Pro firmitate,’ where it is thus said, ‘And all other things shall be done, which shall be meet and necessary for the preservation of the peace and unity.’ For this done, by your benefit the whole kingdom shall be comforted above measure, and established in brotherly love; whereby a uniform subjection and obedience shall be perpetually attributed unto the holy church. Item, We require and desire, as before, for the avoiding of all false suspicion and doubtfulness of many, who suppose that the sacred council hath granted the said communion under both kinds unto us, but for a time, as neither profitable nor wholesome, but as the libel of divorcement; that you will vouchsafe (according to this chapter alleged in the compositions; ‘First they said, that it was not the intent of the sacred council,’ etc.) wholesomely and speedily to provide for our safety, and, with your grant in this behalf, and with the bulls of your letters, to confirm that chapter, together with the other pertaining to the office of your ambassadors. Item, We beseech you, as before, that for the confirmation of obedience, and for the discipline of all the clergy, and for the final defense and observation of all things determined and agreed upon, and for the good order in spiritualties, ye will vouchsafe effectually to provide for us a good and lawful pastor, archbishops, and bishops, who shall seem unto us most meet and acceptable for our kingdom, to execute those offices and duties. Item, We require you, as aforesaid, that your fatherly reverences will vouchsafe, for the defense of the worthy fame of the kingdom and marquisdom, to declare and show our innocency, in that they have communicated, do and hereafter shall communicate, under both kinds; to give out, ordain, and direct the letters of the sacred council, in manner and form most apt and meet for such declaration, unto all princes, as well secular as spiritual, cities and commonalties, according to the compositions, and as the lords the ambassadors are bound unto us to do. Item, We desire you that in the discussing of the matter for the communion under both kinds, and of the commandment thereof given unto all the faithful, ye will not proceed otherwise than according to the Concordatum agreed upon at Egra: that is to say, according to the law of God, the order of Christ and his apostles, the general councils, and the minds of the holy doctors, truly grounded upon the law of God. Item, We desire that your fatherly reverences, considering the great affection of our people, will give us the desired liberty to communicate unto the younger sort the sacrament of the supper. For if this use of communicating should be taken away, which our kingdom, being godly moved by the writings of most great and holy doctors, and brought in by example, hath received as catholic, and exercised now a long time; verily it should raise up an intolerable offense amongst the people, and their minds would be grievously vexed and troubled. Item, We require you, as before, that, for like causes, your fatherly reverences would vouchsafe to permit at least the gospels, epistles, and creed, to be sung and read in the church in our vulgar tongue, before the people, to move them unto devotion; for in our Sclavonic language it hath been used of old in the church, and likewise in our kingdom. Item, We require you, in the name of the said kingdom, and of the famous university of Prague, that your fatherly reverences would vouchsafe to show such diligence and care toward the desired reformation of that university, that according to the manner and form of other universities reformed by the church, prebends, and collations of certain benefices of cathedral and parish churches, may be annexed and incorporated unto the said university, that thereby it may be increased and preferred. Item, We desire you, as before, as heartily as we may, and also (saving always your fatherly reverences) require you, and by the former compositions we most instantly admonish you, that with your whole minds and endeavors, and with all care and study, your reverences will watch and seek for that long desired and most necessary reformation of the church and christian religion, and effectually labor for the rooting out of all public evils, as well in the head as in the members, as you have often, promised, to do in our kingdom, in the compositions; and as our fourth article, touching the avoiding of all public evils, doth exact and require. There were certain answers provided by the council to these petitions of the Bohemians, which were not delivered unto them, but kept back, for what purpose and intent we know not. Wherefore, because we thought them not greatly necessary for this place, and also to avoid prolixity, we have judged it meet at this present to omit them. Thus have ye heard compendiously the chief and principal matters treated of and done in this famous council of Basil. And here, to conclude withal, we have thought good to declare unto you, for the aid and help of the ignorant people (who judge many things to be of longer time and continuance than indeed they be; and, thereupon, have established a great part of their opinions), how that, towards the latter end of this council, that is to say, in the thirtysixth session of the same, holden the l7th of September, A.D. 1489, the feast of the Conception of our Lady was ordained to be holden and celebrated yearly on the 8th of December. 6 In like ease, also, in the fortyfourth session of the same council, holden the 1st day of July, A.D. 1441, it was ordained that the feast of the Visitation of our Lady should be celebrate and holden yearly on the second of July. We have also thought it good, before we do end the story of the council of Basil, to annex hereunto a certain brief decree, profitably and wholesomely ordained in the thirtyfirst session of the said council, against the inordinate giving of the ecclesiastical benefices and livings by the pope, with certain other constitutions also, fruitful for the behalf and edification of the church. During the time 606 that the general council at Basil was so diligent and careful about the reformation of the church, this one thing seemed good unto them to be prosecute and followed with an earnest care and diligence: that throughout every church, apt and meet ministers might be appointed, who might shine in virtue and knowledge, to the glory of Christ, and the healthful edifying of the christian people; whereunto the multitude of expectative graces have been a great impediment and let, in that they have been found to have brought grievous troubles, divers disorders, and many dangers upon the ecclesiastical state. For hereby, oftentimes, scarcely apt or meet ministers have been appointed for the churches, who are neither known nor examined; and this expectation of void benefices, as the old laws do witness, doth give occasion to desire another man’s death, which is greatly prejudicial unto salvation: besides that innumerable quarrels and contentions are moved amongst the servants of God; rancor and malice nourished; the ambition and greedy desire of pluralities of benefices maintained; and the riches and substance of kingdoms and provinces marvellously consumed. Poor men suffer innumerable vexations by running unto the court of Rome. They are oftentimes spoiled and robbed by the way, troubled and afflicted with divers plagues, and having spent their patrimony and substance, left them by their parents, they are constrained to live in extreme poverty. Many do challenge benefices, who, without any just title (yea such, indeed, as ought not to have them), obtain and get the same; such, I say, as have most craft and subtlety to deceive their neighbor, or have greatest substance to contend in the law. It happeneth oftentimes, that under the intrication of prerogatives, antelations, and other concomitants of these expectative graces, much craft and deceit is found. Also, oftentimes, young men are let from their studies and ministry, while by reason of these graces they are set running to-andfro, and by the excitement of these struggles they are vexed and troubled. The ordinary givers, moreover, are deprived of their functions; the ecclesiastical order is confounded, while every man’s authority and jurisdiction is not preserved; and the bishops of Rome, also, by challenging and taking upon them too much the office of the inferiors, are withdrawn from more weighty and fruitful matters; neither do they diligently attend to the guiding and correction of the inferiors, as the public utility doth require. All which things do bring a great confusion unto the clergy and ecclesiastical state, to the great prejudice and hinderance of God’s true worship, and public salvation. In the same council, 608 also, divers other constitutions were made, not unprofitable for reformation, and for removing of certain abuses and disorders brought in, especially by the bishop of Rome: as touching causes not to be brought up and translated to the court of Rome: wherein it was,decreed, that no actions nor controversies should be brought from other countries to be pleaded at Rome, which were beyond four days’ journey distant from the said court of Rome, a few principal matters only excepted. Also, that no frivolous appeals should be made to the pope hereafter. 609 It was, moreover, in the same council decreed, for the number, age, and condition, of the cardinals, that they should not exceed the number of four and twenty, including them that were already; and that they should be freely taken out of all countries; and that they should not be of kin to the bishop of Rome, or to the cardinals, nor vet blemished with any spot or crime. Also for ‘annates’ or first fruits, or half fruits, it was there provided that no such annates, nor confirmation of elections, nor collation of benefices, should be paid or reserved any more to the pope, for the first years voidance. All which things, there agreed and concluded by them, were afterwards confirmed and ratified by the French king, Charles VII., with the full consent of all his prelates, in his high court of parliament in Bourges, 611 and there called ‘Pragmatics sanctio,’ A.D. 1438; 612 whereupon great utility ensued afterwards to the kingdom of France. Albeit in process of time divers friars there were, who wrote against the same. Amongst many decrees 613 of the said council of Basil, in the nineteenth session there was also a decree made touching the converting of Jews, and young novices in religion, unto the christian faith. Also, that all ordinaries should yearly, at appointed times, provide certain men well learned in the holy Scriptures, in such places where Jews and other infidels did dwell, to declare to them the truth of the catholic faith, that they, acknowledging their error, might forsake the same; unto which preaching the said ministers should compel them to resort, and to hear, under pain of excluding them from occupying any more in that place; provided that the said diocesans and preachers should behave themselves towards them mercifully and with all charity, whereby they might win them to Christ, 614 not only by the declaring of the verity, but also by exhibiting other offices of humanity. And, to the intent their preaching might be the more fruitful, and that the preachers might be the better instructed in the tongues, it was also, in the same council, provided and commanded, that the constitution made before in the council of Vienne, for learning the Hebrew, Chaldee, Arabic, and Greek tongues, should, by all means, be observed and kept, and ordinary stipends provided for them that should teach the same tongues. Another decree, moreover, 615 in the twentieth session was enacted, that whosoever was known or publicly noted to be a keeper of concubines, should be sequestered from all fruits of his benefices for the space of three months, which fruits should be converted by the ordinary to the reparations, or some other utility of the church; and, if he did not so amend, it was. by the synod decreed, that he should be clearly deposed from all his benefices. Furthermore 616 the said synod did greatly inveigh against those, who, having the jurisdiction of the church, did not shame to suffer such offenders, for bribes and money, still to continue in their filthiness, etc. By these decrees of the council above specified, it is to be seen, what corruption had been then Frequented in the church of God, through the bishop, and court of Rome. For the more express declaration whereof, we thought it not much impertinent here to refer the words of one Martin Meyre, writing to Aeneas Sylvius, touching and noting the said corruptions; the tenor of whose epistle here ensueth. AN EPISTLE OF MARTIN MEYRE TO AENEAS SYLVIUS, TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH, THE LATIN WHEREOF IS EXTANT IN THE FORMER EDITION OF THIS BOOK. Unto the reverend father, the lord Aeneas, cardinal of Sienna, Martin Meyre, chancellor to the bishop of Mentz, wisheth health. I have understand, by certain of my friends’ letters, that you are created cardinal. I am glad for your part, that you have received so wordly rewards for your virtues. I rejoice, also, for mine own part, that my friend hath attained unto such a dignity, wherein he may, in time to come, both help me and my friends: but this is a grief unto me, that you have happened upon those days, which seem to be troublesome unto the apostolic see. For there are many complaints made unto my lord the archbishop upon the pope, that he will neither keep the decrees of the council of Constance, neither of Basil, neither yet thinketh himself bound to the covenants of his predecessors, and seemeth utterly to contemn our nation, and to seek the utter ruin thereof. For it is evident that the election of prelates is every where rejected; benefices and dignities, of what sort soever they be, are reserved for the cardinals, and chief notaries; and you yourself have obtained the reservation of three provinces of Germany, under such a form as hath not been accustomed or heard of. Advowsons or gifts of benefices are granted without number; yearly stipends and half the revenues are exacted without delay; and it is evident that there is more extorted than is due. The regiment of churches is not committed unto such as best deserve them, but unto such as offer most money for them; and new pardons are granted out daily to scrape and gather together money. Tithes are commanded to be exacted without the consent of our prelates, for the Turkish war; and those matters which were accustomed to be debated and determined at home, are now carried unto the apostolic see of Rome. A thousand ways are invented and devised, how the see of Rome may, by subtlety and craft, extort and get gold and treasure from us, even as it were of the Turks or barbarians; whereby our nation, which was sometime famous and valiant, which by their power and blood conquered the Roman empire, and was once the lady and queen of all the world, now, being brought unto poverty, is made a hand-maid, and become tributary; and being now in extreme misery, hath of long time bewailed her cruel fortune and poverty. But now our nobles, being, as it were, awakened out of their sleep, have begun to consider and devise with themselves, by what means they might withstand this calamity, and utterly shake off this yoke and bondage, and have determined with themselves to challenge again their former liberty. This will be no small loss unto the court of Rome, if the princes of Germany bring to pass that which they have devised. Wherefore, as much as I do rejoice of your late obtained dignity, so much also am I moved and grieved that these things happen in your days. But peradventure God’s determination is otherwise, and his will shall surely take place. You, in the mean time, be of good cheer, and devise according to your wisdom, by what means 11 the vehemency of these floods may be stayed. Thus, fare ye well. From Haschaffenberg, the last day of August. Concerning the authority of this general council of Basil, what is to be esteemed of it, by the acts and fruits thereof may be understood of all good men. Neither was it of any man doubted in the first beginning, so long as the pope agreed and consented unto it. But, after the pope began to draw back, many others followed, especially of the richer sort of prelates, who had any thing to lose; whereof sufficiently hath been said by Arelatensis, the cardinal, before. In the number of these inconstant prelates, besides many others, was first, cardinal Julian, the first collector of this council, and vicegerent of the pope, as by his fervent and vehement letter, mitten to pope Eugene in defense of this council, may well appear; wherein he most earnestly doth expostulate with the foresaid pope Eugene, for seeking to dissolve the council, and declareth in the same many causes, why he should rather rejoice, and give God thanks for the godly proceedings and joyful agreement between the council and the Bohemians; and so exhorteth him, with manifold persuasions, to resort to the council himself, and not to seek the dissolution of the same. The copy and tenor of Julian’s epistle to the pope, if any be disposed to peruse the same, we thought here good to set down to be seen. THE COPY OF AN EPISTLE617 WHICH JULIAN, CARDINAL OF ST. ANGELO, And the Pope’s Ambassador into Germany, wrote marvellous boldly and freely unto Eugene, Bishop of Rome, for that he went about to dissolve the Council of Basil. Most blessed father! after the devout kisses of your blessed feet. Now shall the whole world understand and know, whether your holiness have in you the bowels of fatherly love and charity, and the zeal of the house of God; whether you be sent to make peace or discord, to congregate or disperse; or whether you be that good shepherd that giveth his life for his sheep. Behold the door beginneth now to be opened, whereby the lost sheep may return again unto their own fold; now is there good hope even at hand of the reconciliation of the Bohemians. If your holiness, as it is your duty, do help and further the same, you shall obtain great glory both in heaven and earth. But if, peradventure, you go about to let the same (which is not to be expected at your hands), all men will reprove you of impiety; heaven and earth will conspire against you; all men will forsake you. For how is he to be followed, who, with one word, may restore peace and quietness to the church, and refuseth to do it? But I conceive a better hope of you, how that your holiness, without any excuse, will, with your whole heart and mind, favor this most sacred council, and give thanks unto Almighty God for his great goodness, that this congregation hath not departed. Behold the ambassadors of this sacred council are returned with great joy and gladness from Egra, reporting how that, through the grace of the Holy Ghost, they have firmly concluded with the ambassadors of the Bohemians (that is to say, of the Pragueians, Orphans, and Taborites, amongst whom were also present the captains of their armies, 618 and specially Procopius), that a solemn ambassade of all the estates of the realm should come unto the council of Basil, after a safe conduct has been sent unto them by the said council in form conditioned, which shall be done with speed. This sacred congregation is marvellously exhilarate and joyful, for those our ambassadors affirm, that all things were handled with such charity at Egra, and that they did see such things amongst the Bohemians, that, not without cause, they do conceive great hope of their reconciliation. And at last, gently embracing one another, even with tears of gladness, they departed from Egra; the Bohemians requiring our ambassadors, that the matter might be ended with all expedition. They report also, that many things happened in that treaty, which, if any man heard, and did not weep for joy, he might well think himself to be but smally affectioned unto Christ. As for three of the four articles, they seem not to make any great difficulty upon them. As touching the fourth, that is, of the communion under both kinds, there is good hope that they will follow the judgment of the council. Who is it, then, that dare counsel your holiness to persevere any longer in the purpose of dissolution? for, if the council had not been appointed before, for so great hope and necessity as this it ought to be now appointed in this place. How worthy of praise and commendation should your holiness act, if you would leave Italy and all other affairs, and come hither in your own person; although you should need to be carried in a waggon or litter. The keeping and defense of the temporal patrimony of the church may be managed very well by legates and vicars. This is the true patrimony of the church, to win souls; for the church is not a heap of stones and walls. Christ hath not made you a keeper of castles and forts, but a pastor of souls. Therefore you should do that in your own person, which is most necessary and acceptable unto Christ, and all other things by your substitutes. For so did the apostles, who, to the intent they might the more freely intend to the preaching of the word of God, did institute seven to serve the tables, and for the ministration of other inferior things. I hear that, by the grace of God, your holiness doth daily recover and amend; and, if so be, as it is said, you do visit some churches on foot, ye may also come hither on horseback; for you cannot enterprise any thing more profitable or concordant to your office, than to go unto a place where it is expected innumerable benefits may spring. Let your holiness understand and consider wherein Christ, whose vicar you are, and St. Peter, whose successor you are, and the apostles and holy bishops, did exercise and occupy themselves; and, as you do succeed them in office, so succeed them in manners. But if, peradventure, your holiness cannot come hither, I do counsel you, that, for so great a benefit, you would send the chief part of the reverend lord-cardinals of the court of Rome, and command all other prelates to come hither. Do not let or hinder those that are willing to come, as it is reported you do, but rather allure them to come hither. Your holiness may believe me, that only charity moveth me to counsel you in this sort; do not separate from your members; nourish your children as the hen doth her chickens under her wings. And if so be that you will do nothing else, yet speak this only word ‘Placet,’ that is to say, that it pleaseth you that the council of Basil should go forward. For a few days past news have come hither, for the which your holiness ought altogether to cease from your dissolution. The reverend father, the archbishop of Lyons, hath written unto the council, and unto me also, how that the prelates of France have assembled together in the city of Bourges, and there, after long and exact examination, have concluded, that the council is lawfully congregate in this place; and that it is necessary that it should be celebrate both here and at this present; and that the prelates of France ought to come to it. He also sent hither the causes which moved them so to conclude, the copy whereof I suppose is sent unto your holiness by some other. Whereupon, then, doth your holiness stay? You have gone about as much as in you lay, by your messengers, letters, and divers means, to draw back the prelates, and have labored with all your endeavor to dissolve the council; yet, notwithstanding, as you do see, it is increased day by day; and the more it is forbidden, the more are all men’s minds inflamed to the contrary. Is not this, then, to resist the will of God? Why do ye provoke the church to anger? Why do ye stir up the christian people? Vouchsafe I pray you so to do, that ye may get the love and favor of the people, and not the hatred; for all nations are greatly offended, when they hear these your doings. Let not your holiness be seduced by any man, who, peradventure, doth inculcate fear unto you (whereas there is nothing at all to be feared), or that doth persuade you that this is no lawful council. I know I should offend your holiness if I should go about to prove the contrary, but it is better that I do offend you a little in words, and profit you in my deeds; for a physician applies a burning cautery unto a sick man, and healeth the sore; and a medicine cannot profit, except it be sharp and bitter in taste. Under this hope and confidence, I will not fear to declare the truth; that, it being known, your holiness may the better provide both for yourself and the church. It dependeth upon the council of Constance, whether this council be lawful or not. If that were a true council, so is this also. No man seemeth to doubt whether that council was lawful, and likewise whatsoever was there decreed, to be lawful; for, if any man will say, that the decrees of that council are not of force, he must needs grant that the deprivation of pope John, which was done by the force of those decrees, was of no effect. If that deprivation were not of effect, neither was the election of pope Martin of any force, which was made in John’s life-time. If Martin were no true pope, neither is your holiness, who was chosen by the cardinals that he made: wherefore, it concerneth no man more, to defend the decrees of that council, than your holiness; for, if any decree of that council be called into doubt, by like means may all the rest of the decrees be revoked. And by like means shall the decrees of any ,other coat, ell be of no force and effect; for, by like reason, as the faith of one council is weakened, all the rest shall also be weakened, according to St. Augustine’s, saying, in the 9th Distinct. capitulo, ‘Si ad scripturas:’ “Then,” saith he, “both the faith and all the sacraments shall be put in doubt, if there be once any doubt made of the force and power of any council lawfully congregate.” There was a decree made in the council of Constance, intituled ‘Frequens,’ whereby it was ordained that the first council after that should be holden in five years, and another in Seven years after that again. The council of Constance being ended, and the five years passed, the council of Pavia or Sienna was holden, after which, seven years being also run over, this council is begun to be celebrate. To what end then is it expressed in the bull of the dissolution, amongst other causes, that the seventh year is already past, when as of necessity it ought to be passed before the council can be celebrate? For these words, in seven years or five years, signify, according to the laws, that all parts of the time should be passed, and the last day thereof waited for. Wherefore it behoved that the seven years should be fully complete, before this council of Basil should begin; like as five years were fully expired, before that the council of Pavia did begin. But, peradventure, some man will say, that it ought to have begun the first day after the seventh year was expired; for, otherwise, the term of the council is, passed. But hereunto, we may answer, that it is not contained in the chapter Frequens, that except it were holden the first day, it should not be holden at all; neither can it be gathered either by the words or meaning. For it is only required that it should be holden after seven years are expired; but whether it be the second or third day, or the third or fourth month, after the seventh year, it doth satisfy the chapter ‘Frequens.’ For, when the first day is come, then beginneth the power and liberty to celebrate the council, but not afore; but it is not prohibited to celebrate it after. Neither doth this word, ‘immediate sequens,’ that is to say, ‘next following,’ which is added to ‘quinquennium’ in the chapter ‘Frequens,’ and seemeth to be repeated also for the seven years, stand in our way; for it does not mean that the council must be held precisely on the first day after the seven years, but only to distinguish it from any subsequent seven years. Not that such an addition was necessary, but only for greater clearness. Besides, even had there followed after ‘immediate sequens,’ any of the words ‘statim,’ ‘mox,’ ‘incontinenter,’ or ‘confestim,’ or such like words, yet ought they to be understand with a certain modification of time, that is, as soon as might be convenient, as these words are expounded by the lawyers and doctors; for they are enlarged and restrained according to the subject and divers circumstances of the matters and affairs. For it is not by any means likely, considering the long journeys to be taken, and the difficulty of preparing such affairs, and also the manifold impediments which may arise, that it was the intention of those who framed the decree to limit a precise time, even the first day, so that if the council were not then opened, it should not be holden at all; for by such nice interpretation, it should also be holden, even in the first moment and very instant after the seven years have expired. But, forsomuch as words are to be understand reasonably, this sense or understanding is quite absurd. Again, if any man will say, “Then there was a prorogation, a thing which is forbidden in the chapter ‘Frequens,’” he that doth so argue, doth not understand himself nor the value of words. It is not a prorogation, if it be begun the second or third month; but it is rather a continuation or execution of that which was in their power. For, if it were a prorogation, then, forsomuch as a prorogation doth savor of the nature of the first appointment, it could not be begun *before the time named in the prorogation: but this happeneth not in our case; for, albeit it were not begun* in the first month, but in the second or third, it is not thereby concluded that it could not be begun in the first: but, if there had been any prorogation made till the second month, then it could not have been begun in the first. As for example, I promise to give Titius a hundred pounds after Easter; afore Easter it cannot be required; but, by-and-by after Easter it may be required: and, albeit that I be not urged for it, notwithstanding I do not cease to be hound; and, if so be I be demanded it in the second or third month after, it is not thereby understand that there is any prorogation made; neither doth it follow, but that it might have been demanded in the beginning, which could not have been, if that there had been any prorogation made. Also, it is the nature of prorogation, to be made before the first term be passed; but afterward is no prorogation, but a new appointment. It may be said, that then it may be too long delayed: it is answered, that in this point we must stand unto the judgment of the church, which, considering the divers circumstances, is to settle the time meet; for the liberty of celebrating councils, was instituted for the profit and favor of the church. What if it should happen that when the time cometh, in the place where a council should be kept, there be a great plague or some siege, which should continue for the space of three or four months, and the pope, in the mean time, doth not change the place, according to the form of the chapter ‘Frequens,’ and that, through such impediments, the prelates did not come the first day unto the place, or, if any were coming, that they were taken by the way, who, if they had not been taken, had been present at the first day in the place appointed: is it therefore to be said that the power of the council is past? or that the impediment ceasing, and the prelates coming thither, the council cannot be holden? That truly were absurd and exceedingly prejudicial to the church of God. But, in this our case, the cause is probable why the prelates did defer to come at the beginning of the time appointed; forsomuch as when the time drew near, pope Martin died the 20th day of February: for which cause the prelates might well doubt upon some impediment of the council. Also they tarried looking that some should come thither in the name of the pope, because they would not tarry in that place in vain without a president. As for the legate who was appointed for the council, whose presence all men tarried for, until he would prepare himself for that journey, he came not at the time appointed unto the council, but went unto Nuremberg to persecute the Bohemians, according to the commandment of Pope Martin, who had enjoined him to go first thither, before he went unto Basil. And the same legate, being oftentimes required by the emperor at Nuremberg, that he should go to Basil to hold the council, answered, that he would not go before he had the consent of the new pontiff. This was the cause of the prelates’ delay; neither is it greatly to be imputed unto the prelates, who suspected that pope Martin would not have the council holden, and feared to bring themselves into trouble: and good cause had they so to fear, from what had happened in the council of Sienna. There were many things, also, said at the time, which caused great suspicion. It was reported unto me, that many had said, that I came into Germany to disturb the council. Also this was pope Martin’s mind and intent, that, albeit the council was not begun at the beginning of March, notwithstanding, the authority of holding the council should not be void. For he, when the time of the council approached, willed me that I should first go unto Bohemia, before I went unto the council; whereof, also, mention is made in the bull of the consistorial dissolution. But what need we any other proof, than the letters of your holiness? In which your letters, dated the 2d of the calends of June, and therefore long after the term, and not delivered unto me for three months more, you do command me, that, my business being done in Bohemia, I should take my way unto Bash to hold the council, and there foresee unto all things, as it was enjoined me and ordained in the council of Constance. The same also you repeat in the bull of the dissolution brought unto me by the lord bishop of Trent; the words whereof are these: ‘Since your going into Germany no prelates have assembled in Basil for the celebrating of the council: wherefore, we give it in commandment to your circumspection that, in the mean time, you be diligent about the expedition against the Bohemian heretics, which is committed to your charge, and afterward come unto Basil, the place appointed for the council, and there preside in our name and that of the church.’ What can be more clear than this? If there were any doubt, by the tenor of these letters it were evidently taken away. If any man would say, that neither pope Martin, nor Eugene, could confirm the council by writing of such letters, because there was a prorogation which is prohibited by the chapter ‘Frequens:’ it is answered, that there is no prorogation, but execution of that which was in their power, or a declaration that it is not necessary to hold the council precisely even at the beginning. Also it is no prorogation, for a prorogation is made before the term is expired, and not after; for after, it is rather called a new indiction or appointment. And if any man will say that there can be no new indiction made then may this be objected: how could the council of Bologna be newly appointed? If they will answer, that the appointment of the council of Bologna was of force, because the council of Basil was dissolved by your holiness, then I have my intent; for, if it were dissolved, ergo, it was a council before, because the objection presupposeth it to have been held. If it were a council before, then, as hereafter shall be proved, it could not be dissolved without the consent of the council. What more can be answered hereunto? For the greater declaration and evidence of the matter, the abbot of Vezelai, even upon the very day of the time appointed, or afore, gathering together the clergy of the great church and certain other prelates and notable men, made a solemn protestation, how the time was come to hold the council, and that he was come unto Basil for the very purpose; requiring them that they would confer and intreat together upon matters touching the council: and there is extant a public instrument to that effect. Within a month after, the ambassadors of the university of Paris came thither, and began to intreat of matters touching the council, writing also unto the emperor and to the other princes of Germany, that they should send unto the council; which letters I myself did see. Neither doth the small number of men let; for, where authority is, a great number is not required, according to the saying of Christ, ‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am in the midst of them:’ upon the which authority the councils are grounded. Now, therefore, your holiness doth manifestly see the said objection to be but frivolous. And to what end should any dissolution be made, if it had not been a council? Wherefore, it is not to be doubted but that it was a lawful council, and canonically congregate. And, perhaps, it is nowhere to be found that any council hath been confirmed by so many authorities as this; that is to say, by the two councils which preceded, of Constance and of Sienna, and that by two bishops of Rome. Besides this, I have heard that some do report at Rome, that I could not call the prelates unto the council, because that clause was not added in the bull of pope Martin. I greatly marvel why this should be objected, specially seeing that not I alone have called them, but I, together with the rest who had here assembled in the council. It is a marvellous matter: pope Martin gave me authority, by the advice of the council, to root out heresies, to pacify kingdoms, to reform the manners of every state of Christendom, and yet they will say that I cannot cite them. Power is given me to judge and to condemn, and have I not also power to cite? The law doth say; unto whom any power or jurisdiction is committed, all things seem to be committed unto him, without the which he cannot exercise his jurisdiction. But how could all the premises be done, if the prelates or others should not come hither? Also, why is it said in the chapter “Ego,” tit. 24, ‘De jurejurando,’ “I will come unto the synod if I be called,” if he cannot be called? By whom, then, is it presupposed that he should be called, but only by the council, or by him who ruleth the council? Also the whole eighteenth distinction treateth of no other matter, but that the bishops being called unto the council, if they come not, may be excommunicate and suspended. Let these men read the Book of Councils of St. Isidore, and they shall find how that in many councils the prelates have been called by the synod. Now it remaineth, that we should declare, whether the dissolution be of force or no. Wherein I do again fear to move your holiness unto anger, but charity forceth me thereunto; for, peradventure, your holiness doth think the dissolution to be valid, and therefore doth persevere in it; whereby forsomuch as many offenses may arise, my conscience doth move me not to hold my peace. First of all, the chapter ‘Frequens’ declareth that it is of no force; for if prorogation be forbidden and prohibited, which is a small matter, much more is dissolution, which is a greater, for it is a greater matter to take away than to defer; for by proroguing a thing is but deferred, and by dissolving it is utterly taken away. Also these men say, that the said constitution in the chapter ‘Frequens’ may be made void, for that as soon as the council is begun, it may be dissolved without any thing done, as is said to have been done at Sienna; and now they say also, that your holiness hath been perversely informed touching the dissolution. They say also, that the said dissolution doth manifestly tend to the subversion of faith, the ruin of the church, and the trouble of the christian people: therefore it cannot be done, neither obeyed. They say, moreover, that the said dissolution could not be made by reason of a certain decree of the council of Constance in that behalf provided; that in such matters as pertain unto faith, the extirpation of schism, and reformation of the church in the head and in the members, all men, of what estate or condition soever they be, yea the pope himself, should be bound to obey the statutes, precepts, and ordinances, of every general council; and, except they did obey, the council had power to punish them. Mark how these things—to have power to determine upon any man, to command him, and punish him, if he be not obedient—are signs of superiority, in a party who doth so decree, command, or punish; and, to be bound to obedience, to be subject and obey the same, are signs of inferiority in the said cases.;Ergo, in the aforesaid cases, seeing that the pope, as they say, is under the council (which also hath been proved by the fact; in that for one of the said three eases the council did deprive John, and for another Benedict), the pope could never dissolve the council, because he that is inferior cannot bind or compel the superior, as is shewn in the chapter ‘Cure inferior:’ otherwise it should contain in it a contradiction, that he is bound to obey, and is not bound to obey, because he may dissolve; for how should he be obedient unto the ordinance and decree of the council, if he may annihilate and take away the same ordinance and decree? This council is congregated for the rooting out of heresies, for the making of peace, and for the reformation of manners; and in the first session it did ordain, that their whole intent and respect should be thereunto, and that he who should procure to let the council, to prorogue or alter it, should be punished, and have process against him, as against a common disturber of the peace, etc. If it may be dissolved, it is evident that they do not obey the said ordinance; whereby this, also, must of necessity be granted, that if it may be dissolved, the decree of the council of Constance is of no force. This is also proved by another reason. No man doubteth but if any controversy of heresy should be moved against any bishop of Rome, that he could not dissolve the council: for, if he might dissolve the council, he could not be judged, which were contrary to the chapter ‘Si Papa,’ 40 dist. Ergo, like as it is in heresy, so is it in the two other cases; for these three were pacified by the council of Constance: for thus speaketh the council, as it is in the chapter, ‘Si Papa in illo uno.’ And, as I have before said, the council of Constance allowed this decree, through which they deprived Peter de Luna, for making a schism, and pope John, for the deformity of his life. Anti albeit there be certain laws that say, The principal seat cannot be judged of any man; and again, no man judgeth the chief seat; and, no man saith unto him, why doest thou so? it is to be understand in these three cases, first, that there was proviso made for the faith in the chapter ‘Si Papa;’ and for the other two points by the decree of Constance. Otherwise it should be understand, without any exception, that the first seat, etc., and then the chapter ‘Si Papa, 40, dist., and the said decree of Constance should be false. If the chapter ‘Si Papa’ had added causes of heresies, no man would have doubted upon these two cases, touching the said sentence; so, likewise, no man ought to doubt of the decree of the council, that it was made by the authority of the pope, and representeth the universal church. And, if any man would say, that in all councils the authority of the pope is excepted: I answer, that is true, when the person of the pope is not specially, included. But, if he be specially included, he cannot be excepted, because it should savor of contradiction. Most blessed father! God is my witness, that I have spoken these things with great anguish and sorrow of mind; but I am forced so to speak, that your holiness may cease from the said dissolution, lest there might happen infinite evils in the church of God. If your holiness did see my pure mind, my upright conscience, and entire affection towards you, whereby I am moved to write these things, even for very love you would embrace and kiss me, and, without doubt, love me as your own son. I have often said, and now do say, and protest before God and man, that you will be the cause of schism and infinite mischiefs, if you do not alter and change your mind and propose. Almighty God preserve your holiness in the prosperity of a virtuous man! unto whose feet I do most humbly recommend me. From Basil, the fifth day of June. [ A.D. 1432.] Thus endeth the epistle of cardinal Julian, written unto pope Eugene; wherein, forsomuch as mention is made how the Bohemians had promised to send their ambassadors unto the council, and, as before is partly touched in the Bohemian story, of their coming into Basil and propounding of certain articles, wherein they dissented from the pope; we thought it not any thing differing from our purpose, to have annexed a brief epitome, declaring the whole circumstance of their ambassade, their articles, disputations, and answers, which they had at the said council of Basil, with their petitions and answers unto the same: faithfully translated out of Latin by F. W. In like manner Aeneas Sylvius also, with his own hand-writing, not only gave testimony to the authority of this council, but also bestowed his labor and travail in setting forth the whole story thereof. Notwithstanding the same Sylvius afterwards, being made pope, with his new honor, did alter and change his old sentence. The epistle of which Aeneas, touching the commendation of the said council, because it is but short, and will occupy but little room, I thought hereunder, for the more satisfying of the reader’s mind, to insert. AN EPISTLE OF AENEAS SYLVIUS TO THE RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF COLOGNE, IN DEFENSE OF THE COUNCIL OF BASIL. To a christian man who will be a true Christian indeed, nothing ought to be more desired, than that the sincerity and pureness of faith, given to us of Christ by our forefathers, be kept of all men immaculate: and, if at any time any thing be wrought or attempted against the true doctrine of the gospel, the people ought with one consent to provide lawful remedy, and every man to bring with him some water to quench the general fire; neither must we fear how we be hated or envied, so we bring the truth. We must resist every man to his face, whether he be Paul or Peter, if he walk not directly to the truth of the gospel: which thing I am glad, and so are we all, to hear what your university hath done in this council of Basil. For a certain treatise of yours is brought hither unto us, wherein you reprehend the rudeness, or rather the rashness of such, as do deny the bishop of Rome, and the consistory of his judgment, to be subject unto the general council; and that the supreme tribunal seat of judgment standeth in the church, and in no one bishop. Such men as deny this, you so confound with lively reasons and truth of the Scriptures, that they are neither able to slide away like slippery eels, neither to cavil or bring any objection against you. These be the words of Sylvius.—*But, 12 as our common proverb sayeth “Honors change manners,” so it happened with this Sylvius, who, after he came once to be pope, was much altered from that he was before. For whereas before, he preferred general councils before the pope, now, being pope, he did decree that no man should appeal from the high bishop of Rome to any general council. And likewise for priests’ marriages; whereas before he thought it best to have their wives restored, likewise he altered his mind otherwise: insomuch that in his book treating of Germany, and there speaking of the noble city of Augsburg, by occasion he inveigheth against a certain epistle of Huldericke, 13 a bishop of the said city, written against the constitution of the single life of priests. Whereby it appeareth how the mind of this Sylvius, then pope Pius, was altered from what it was before.* Furthermore, as touching the authority and approbation of the aforesaid council this is to be noted, that during the life of Sigismund, the emperor, no man resisted this council. Also, during the time of Charles VII., the French king, the said council of Basil was fully and wholly received through all France. But, after the death of Sigismund, when Eugene was deposed, and Felix, duke of Savoy, was elected pope, great discords arose, and much practice was wrought, but especially on Eugene’s part; who, being now excommunicate by the council of Basil, to make his party more strong made eighteen new cardinals. Then he sent his orators unto the Germans, laboring by all persuasions to dissolve the council of Basil. the Germans, at that time, were so divided, that some of them did hold with Felix and the council of Basil; other some with Eugene and the council of Ferrara; and some were neuters. After this, 619 about A.D. 1444, the pope beginneth a new practice, after the old guise of Rome, to excite, as is supposed, the dauphin of France, who was afterwards king Louis XI., by force of arms to dissipate that council collected against him. Who, leading an army of fifteen thousand men into Alsace, did cruelly waste and spoil the country, and after that laid siege unto Basil, to expel and drive out the prelates of the council. But the Switzers, most stoutly meeting their enemies, with a small power did vanquish the Frenchmen, and put them to sword and flight; like as the Lacedemonians, with only three hundred, did suppress and scatter all the mighty army of Xerxes at Thermopylae. Although Basil by the valiantness of the Switzers was thus defended, yet notwithstanding, the council through these tumults could not continue by reason of the princes’ ambassadors, who shrunk away and would not tarry; so that at length Eugene brought to pass, partly through the help of Frederic (being not yet emperor, but laboring for the empire), partly by his orators (in the number of whom was Aeneas Sylvius, above mentioned) amongst the Germans, that they were content to give over both the council of Basil, and their neutrality. This frederic of Austria being not yet emperor, but looking towards the empire, brought also to pass, that Felix, who was chosen of the council of Basil to be pope, was contented to renounce and resign his papacy to Nicholas V., successor to Eugene, of the which Nicholas the said Frederic was confirmed at Rome to be emperor, and there crowned, A.D. 1451. As these things were doing at Basil, in the mean season pope Eugene brought to pass, in his convocation at Florence, that the emperor and the patriarch of Constantinople, with the rest of the Greeks there present, were persuaded to receive the sentence of the church of Rome, concerning the proceeding of the Holy Ghost; also to receive the communion in unleavened bread, to admit purgatory, and to yield themselves to the authority of the Romish bishop. Whereunto, notwithstanding, the other churches of Greece would in no wise assent, at their coming home; insomuch that with a public execration they did condemn, afterward, all those legates who had consented to these articles, that none of them should be buried in christian burial: which was, A.D. 1439. And thus endeth the story, both of the council of Basil, and of the council of Florence; also, of the emperor Sigismund, and of the schism between pope Eugene and pope Felix, and also of the Bohemians; which Bohemians, notwithstanding all these troubles and tumults above-said, did right well, and were strong enough against all their enemies, till at length, through discord, partly between the two preachers of the old and new city of Prague, partly also through the discord of the messengers and captains taking sides one against the other, they made their enemies strong, and enfeebled themselves. Albeit afterwards, in process of time, they so defended the cause of their religion, not by sword, but by argument and disputation, that the bishop of Rome could never yet to this day remove the Taborites and city of Prague from the communion of both kinds, nor could ever cause them to keep the conditions, which, in the beginning of the council, were enjoined their priests to observe; as testifieth Cochleus: with him also accordeth Antoninus, who saith, that the doctrine of the Bohemians (which he termeth by the name of Zizania), did take such deep root with them, and grew so fast, that afterwards, neither by fire nor sword, it could be extinguished. Concerning which Bohemians, briefly and in a general sum to recapitulate their whole acts and doings, here is to be noted: that they, in their own defense, and in the quarrel of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, provoked by their catholic adversaries to war, fighting under Zisca their captain, had eleven battles with the pope’s side, and ever went away victors, Moreover, in the History of Peucer it is testified that pope Martin V., sending for the bishop of Winchester, then cardinal, had levied three main armies, intending to overrun all the Bohemians; one army of the Saxons under the prince elector; the second of the Francones, under the marquis of Brandenburg; the third of Rhenates, Bavarians, and Switzers, under Otho,archbishop of Treves. 18 With these, Sigismund also, the emperor, and cardinal Julian, the pope’s legate (who at last was slain in war, and being spoiled of all his attire, was left naked in the field), joined all their force; who, joining together five times (saith the story), with five sundry battles, assailed and invaded the Bohemians; at every such battle, five times the said adversaries, stricken and daunted with a sudden fear, ran away out of the field, leaving their tents with all their implements and furniture behind them, before any stroke was given; 19 whereby it may appear that the holy angels of God do fight for them who embrace the sincere doctrine of Christ’s gospel. Thus the Bohemians, through the mighty protection of Almighty God, continued a long time invincible, during all the life of Zisca, and also of Procopius, till, at length, through discord growing between them and their captains Procopius and Mainardus, they were subdued unto their enemies. And here by the way is not to be omitted the wicked and cruel fact of Mainardus, who, after the death of Procopius, thinking to purge the realm of Bohemia of those chief and principal soldiers, who had been long expert and trained up in wars, found means for a proclamation to be made, as though he would war against other countries of their enemies bordering about them, craftily to train all those who were disposed to take wages, into certain barns or hovels prepared for the same purpose; and so, shutting the doors upon them, the wicked dissembler set fire upon them, and burnt of them divers thousands, and so brought the rest, by that means, under subjection to the emperor during his lifetime, which, after that continued not long; 20 which soldiers if they had fought as much for the catholic liberties of the pope and his church, as they had fought against him, it is marvel if the pope had not dignified them all for holy martyrs. But they that kill with the sword (saith Christ) shall perish with the sword. Notwithstanding, the cruel deceit of Mainardus is worthy of all men to be detested. During this business among the bishops beyond the sea, in the mean time our bishops here also in England were not unoccupied. Whether it be the nature of the country that so giveth, or whether the great livings and wealthy promotions of the clergy do draw with them a more insensible untowardness in God’s religion, hard it is to say: this is manifest to all them who will read and mark our stories from time to time, that in England is more burning and slaying for religion and for all other matters; more bloodshed among us, than in any other land or nation in Christendom besides. RICHARD WICHE, PRIEST, MARTYR. After the burning of Richard Hoveden, and Nicholas Canon 22 , and Thomas Bagley, priest, above recorded, whom the bishops condemned to death, A.D. 1481, not long after, about the year of our Lord 1489, which was the eighteenth of the reign of king Henry VI., they had another poor man by the back, named Richard Wiche, priest, mentioned both in Robert Fabian, and also in another old English chronicle borrowed of one Perminger. What his opinions were, they do not express. This they record, that this Richard Wiche was first degraded, then burnt at Tower-hill for heresy. Some do affirm, that he, before his death, revolted; but that seemeth, by his burning, not to be true. It is also testified of him, that before his death he spake (as prophesying) that the postern of the Tower should sink; which,also, afterwards came, as he saith, to pass: wherefore of many of the people he was counted for a holy man; insomuch that, as it is affirmed, they came to the place where he was burnt, and there made their oblations and prayers, and upreared a great heap of stones, and set up a cross there by night; so that, by this means, a great clamor ran upon the church-men, and especially upon such as put him to death. Then, to cease the rumor, the king gave commandment to punish such as went thither on pilgrimage: the copy whereof is here to be seen as followeth. THE KING S WRIT, PROHIBITING PILGRIMAGE TO THE TOMB OF RICHARD WICHE. Rex Vicecomitibus London et Midd. salutem. Albeit Richard Wiche, late clerk, who heretofore long since heretically did hold, teach, and publicly preach, certain heresies and erroneous opinions in many places within our realm of England, and for the same many years now past being judicially convicted, did, before a judge, in that behalf sufficient, abjure all heresy generally, and afterwards, as a dog returning to his vomit, did presume to maintain, teach, and publicly preach, his former errors and heresies, so that he was worthily adjudged a relapse: and again, being impeached for the same before the reverend father in God, Robert, bishop of London, his lawful ordinary, was called forth to judgment; and being before him, did judicially confess his errors and heresies. For which cause the reverend father, upon mature deliberation by him, the said reverend father, first had, with the advice of the learned in the law, his assistants, lawfully proceeding against the said Richard, did, by his sentence definitive, pronounce and adjudge him to be a relapse, and did degrade him from the order and dignity of priesthood, and took from him all priestly ornaments, and deprived him of all priestly function and privilege (according to justice), and, last of all, turned him over to the secular power as the manner is; and afterwards you, by our princely commandment and warrant, did, according to the law of our realm, for his last punishment, consume the body of the said Richard to ashes, being a relapse, convict, and degraded, as a notorious traitor, not only against God, but also against us and our crown and dignity; all which notwithstanding, certain our subjects (as we have been sundry times informed) being pricked forward with a diabolical spirit, practising, of all likelihood, not only sedition, but also idolatry, within our realm, are not afraid publicly to affirm, that the said Richard was altogether innocent of heretical pravity. Nay rather they do most shamefully, with their vain devices, and wickedly conceived imaginations, blaze abroad, that he was, and died, a good, a just, and a holy man, and that he doth many miracles: whereas indeed no such miracles be done by him. Which disordinate persons we may well, and upon probable causes, repute and deem culpable, not only of heretical pravity, but also of high treason, and as rebels to our person, majesty, and violaters of the peace and dignity of our realm, as withal, breakers and trespassers against the sacred canons of the church, who dare so presumptuously adventure to worship the said Richard as a saint, whereas it is not lawful to worship any manner of person, be he ever so holy, before he be canonized by the authority of the bishop of Rome: We, therefore, being very careful for the good preservation of our peace, and desirous to abolish from out of all the coasts of the same all manner of idolatry, do charge and command you, that, in certain places within your liberties, where you shall think most convenient, you cause, forthwith, proclamations to be made on our behalf, straitly charging, that no person from henceforth presume, to. resort to the place where the said Richard was executed, under color of a pilgrim, or for any other cause of devotion whatsoever; nor send any offering thither, nor worship him hereafter openly or secretly, or adjudge, esteem, repute, name, or talk of him as otherwise justified or innocent, than such as the said reverend father, by his definitive sentence, hath pronounced him to be: upon pain and penalty to be taken and reputed for a heretic or a favorer of heretics, and to receive condign punishment provided for heretics. And that you arrest all and every person whom you shall find to do any thing contrary to this our proclamation, and the same, so arrested, commit to our prison; there to remain until we shall think good to send countermand for their deliverance. Witness the king at his manor of Easthampstead, the fifteenth day of July, in the eighteenth year of his reign. Per ipsum Regem. Like writs, and to the same effect, were directed to all the sheriffs through all the realm, bearing all one and the same date; by virtue of which letters, the mayor and sheriffs did use such diligence, that shortly after, that concourse and seeking of the people was left off. After the burning of this man, which was about the month of June, in the same year, about November, a convocation was called by Henry, archbishop of Canterbury, wherein was propounded among the clergy, to consult with themselves what way were best to be taken for the removing away the law of ‘Praemuniri facias;’ 24 for so were the hearts then of the temporalty set against the ecclesiastical sort, that where any vantage might be given them by the law, they did nothing spare; by reason whereof the church-men at that time were greatly molested by the said law of ‘Praemuniri,’ and by the king’s writs, and other indictments, to their no small annoyance. By long consultation and good advisement, at last this way was taken: that a petition or supplication should be drawn and presented to the king, for the abolishing of the aforesaid law of ‘Praemuniri facias;’ and, also, for the restraining of other briefs, writs, and indictments, which seemed then to lie heavy upon the clergy. This bill or supplication being contrived and exhibited, by the archbishops of Canterbury and of York, unto the king, standing in need at the same time of a subsidy to be collected of the clergy, this answer was given to their supplication, on the king’s behalf: that, forasmuch as the time of Christmas then drew near, whereby he had, as yet, no sufficient leisure to advise upon the matter, he would take therein a farther pause. In the mean time, as one tendering their quiet, he would send to all his officers and ministers within his realm, that no such brief of ‘Praemuniri’ should pass against them or any of them, from the said time of Christmas, till the next parliament, A.D. 1489. BRIEF ANSWER TO THE CAVILLATIONS OF ALAN COPE’S CONCERNING LADY ELEANOR COBHAM. In my former edition of Acts and Monuments, 26 so hastily raked up at that present, in such shortness of time, as in the said book thou mayest see, gentle reader! declared and signified; among many other matters therein contained, there is a short note made of one Eleanor Cobham, duchess of Gloucester, and of sir Roger Only, knight (priest, it should have been printed), which two persons, about A.D. 1440, or the next year following, were condemned, the one to death, the other to perpetual prison. Of this little short matter Master Cope, the pope’s scout, lying in privy wait to spy faults in all men’s works, wheresoever any may appear, taketh pepper in the nose, and falleth again unto his old barking against me, for placing these aforesaid persons in my ‘Book of Martyrs;’ but, especially, he thinketh to have great vantage against me, for that in the same story I do join withal, one Margaret Jourdeman, the witch of Eye, condemned also with them at the same time, and burned for practising the king’s death by an image of wax, etc. To answer hereunto, First , I say, as I before said, that I profess no such title to write of Martyrs, but, in general, to write of Acts and Monuments passed in the church and realm of England; wherein, why should I be restrained from the free walk of a story writer, more than others that have gone before me? Secondly , Touching my commendation of sir Roger Only, and the lady Eleanor; if Master Alan be therewith offended, I answer, that I commended them for savoring and favoring of the truth of Christ’s doctrine: for their fault, 621 if any such were in them, I do not commend them. And although I did commend them, yet neither did I it with any long tarrying upon it, nor yet altogether upon mine own head, without some sufficient warrant of authority. For, why may not I as well believe John Bale, as Master Alan believe Mr. Fabian? especially seeing I do know, and was privy, that the said John, in recognising his Centuries, followed altogether the history of Leland ‘De Catalogo virorum illustrium;’ which book, being borrowed of Master Cheke, I myself did see in the hands of the aforesaid John Bale, what time we were both together, dwelling in the house of the noble lady the duchess of Richmond. Wherefore, if he think me so lewd to speak without mine authors, he is deceived. And if he think mine authors not to be believed, then let this Nomothetes, or jolly Dictator, come forth and prescribe us a law, what authors he would have us to take, and what to refuse. For else, why is it not as free for me to credit John Bale and Leland, as for him to credit Robert Fabian and Edward Hall? especially, seeing they had seen his books and works left behind him, whereupon they might better judge; and so did never these. Thirdly , For the name of Roger Only; if Cope deny that there was any such name in stories mentioned, but that there was one called Roger Bolingbroke, etc., hereby it may appear, that either his prompter out of England deceived him, or else that he, going no further but to Fabian and Hall, lacketh no good will in him, but only a little matter, to make a perfect sycophant. And, admit the said name of ‘Only’ could not be found in those writers, yet it were not impossible for a man to have two names, especially if he were a religious man; to bear the name of the town where he was born, besides his own proper surname. But now, what if I, Master Cope! can avouch and bring forth to you the name of Roger Only out of sufficient record, which you seem not to have yet read? Have ye then done well 622 and properly, think you, so bitterly to flee in my face, and to bark so eagerly all this while at moonshine in the water, having no more cause almost against me, than against the man in the moon? And now (lest you should think me so much unprovided of just authority for my defense, as I see you unprovided of modesty and patience), write you to your prompter or suborner, wheresoever he lurketh here in England, to send you over unto Louvain the book of John Harding, a chronicler, more ancient than either Fabian or Hall, printed in the house of Richard Grafton, A.D. 1543; where turn to the fol. 223, fac. b., line 19, and there you shall find and read these words. “Again, the church and the king cursedly, By help of one Master Roger Only,” etc. By which words you must necessarily confess Roger Only to be the name of the man, or else must ye needs deny the author. For otherwise, that Master Roger Bolingbroke was the only helper to the duchess in that fact, by no wise it can stand with the story of these authors, who say, that four others, besides him, were condemned for the same crime, etc. 27 And, moreover, though the said sir Roger Only was no knight (as I have said in my former edition), yet this ye cannot deny, by the testimony of them that have seen his works, but that he was a priest, which you will grant to be a knight’s fellow. And thus much for the name and condition of Master Roger Only. Fourthly , As concerning Margaret Jourdeman, whom ye call the witch of Eye, ye offer me herein great wrong, to say that I make her a martyr, who was a witch; when I here profess, confess, and ascertain, 28 both you, and all Englishmen, both present, and all posterity hereafter to come, that of this Margaret Jourdeman I never spake, never thought, never dreamed, nor did ever hear, before you named her in your book yourself. So far is it off that I, either with my will, or against my will, made any martyr of her. Furthermore, I profess and denounce in like manner, that neither have you any just nor congrue 29 occasion in my book so to judge, much less to rail on me. For where, in express words, I do speak of the mother of the lady Young, 624 what occasion have you thereby to slander me and my book with Margaret Jourdeman? which Margaret whether she was a witch or not, I leave her to the Lord. As for me, neither did I know of her then, nor did I mean of her now. But, ‘because I couple her in the same story,’ you say. 623 To this I say, because she was the mother of a lady, I thought to join her with another lady in the same story, as in one pew together, although in one cause I will not say. And yet, notwithstanding, I do so couple the said mother with the duchess, in such distinct difference of years, that you, Master Cope! might easily have understood, or, beside you, no man else would have thought the contrary, but that Margaret Jourdeman was neither here in my book, nor yet in my Memento. For the words of my story are plain, where the condemnation of the lady Eleanor, and of the mother of lady Young, being referred to the year of our Lord, 1441, I do also, in the same story 30 (through the occasion of that lady), infer mention of the mother of the lady Young, declaring in express words, that she followed certain years after, and, in the end of that chapter, do name also the year of her burning to be 1490, which was fifty years after the death of Only and Margaret Jourdeman; by the computation of which years it is plain, that no other woman could be noted in that place, but only the lady Young’s mother. But Master Cope, continuing still in his wrangling mood, objecteth again, for that in my calendar, the said lady Young’s mother hath the day, in the catalogue, next after the death of Roger Only; which day pertaineth properly to Margaret Jourdeman, who was burned the same day in Smithfield, and not to the lady’s mother, etc. What order was taken in placing the names and days, what is that to me? If he who had the disposing of the catalogue, did place them so in months, as he saw them joined in chapters, not perusing peradventure, nor advising the chapters, that doth nothing prejudice the truth of my story, which sufficiently doth clear itself in distinguishing them rightly in names, and also in years, as is before declared. Fifthly and lastly: Having thus sufficiently answered to your circumstances of persons, names, and times, Master Cope! I will now enter to encounter with you concerning the fact and crime objected to the lady duchess, and to the rest; with this protestation before premised unto the reader: that, if the fact be true, and so done as is reported in the histories of Fabian, Hall, and Harding, I desire the reader then so to take me, as though I did not deal here-withal, nor speak of the matter, but utterly to have pretermitted, and dispuncted the same. But, forasmuch as the deed and offense laid and given forth against these parties, may be a matter made, and of evil-will compacted, rather than true indeed; therefore, I do but only move a question by way of history, not as defending, nor commending, nor commemorating the thing, if it be true, but only moving the question, whether it is to be judged true, or suspected rather to be false and forged; and so, having briefly propounded certain conjectural suspicions or supposals concerning that matter, I will pass it over, neither meddling on the one side nor on the other. The first conjecture, why it may be possible that this act of treason, laid to the charge of the duchess and Roger Only, against the king, may be untrue, is this: that the said Only (otherwise named Bolingbroke) took it upon his death, that they never intended any such thing as they were condemned for. The second conjecture: for that the lady Eleanor and Only seemed then to favor and savor of that religion set forth by Wickliff; and therefore it is like enough that they were hated of the clergy. Furthermore, what hatred and practices of papists can do, it is not unknown. The third conjecture: for that the said Master Roger Only, falsely noted and accused of necromancy, wrote a book in purgation of himself, entitled, ‘De Innocentia sua;’ also another book entitled, ‘Contra vulgi superstitiones,’ recorded in Centur. 8. Bale, cap. 4 whereupon it is not credible, that he who wrote professedly against the superstitions of the people, was overtaken with that filth of necromancy himself. The fourth conjecture: because this accusation against the duchess of Gloucester, duke Humphrey’s wife, began not before, but after the grudge kindled between the cardinal of Winchester, and duke Humphrey, her husband. Another conjecture may be hereof, for that if the duchess had intended any such heinous treason against the king’s life, as by burning of a wax-candle to consume him, it is not likely, neither was there any such need, that she would have made so many privy to such a pernicious counsel, as the witch of Eye, Master Roger Bolingbroke, Master Thomas Southwell, and John Hume. Sixthly , It is not to be supposed, if any such high treason had been wrought or pretended against the king’s person by these, that either the duchess should so escape with bearing a taper and banishment, or that John Hume should be pardoned his life; the fact being so heinous, that neither any durst ask his pardon, nor, if it had been asked, had it been likely to be granted. To these we may also add another supposal, rising upon the words and form of their accusation, as it standeth in Harding, Polychronicon, and others besides, wherein they were accused for working sorcery and enchantments against the church and the king. Now, what sorcery can be wrought against the church, that is, the whole multitude of Christians, let the reader judge; and, by the truth of this, consider also the truth of the other, which was against the king. Furthermore, if, by this church, is meant the cardinal of Winchester, as like it is, then it may be conjectured, that all this matter rose of that cardinal, who was then a mortal enemy to the house of Gloucester, etc. Eighthly , And, that all this was done and wrought by the said cardinal of Winchester, the witch of Eye maketh the matter the more suspicious, seeing that the town of Eye, as Fabian witnesseth, was near beside Winchester, and in the see of that bishop. Moreover, forsomuch as Polydore Virgil, among other story authors, being a man (as may be supposed) rather favoring the cardinal’s part than the duke’s, made no mention at all touching this treason, his silence, therefore, may minister matter not only to muse, but also to conjecture, that he had found something which made him to mistrust the matter. Otherwise it is unlikely that he would have so mewed up the matter, and passed it over without some mention. Finally, and briefly, the frequent practices and examples of other times may make this also more doubtful, considering how many subtle pretences, after the like sort, have been sought, and wrongful accusations brought, against many innocent persons. For, not to repeat the like forgeries against the lord Cobham, and sir Roger Acton, etc., why may not this accusation of the duchess and Only be as false, as that in the time of king Edward V., which was laid to the charge of the queen and Shore’s wife, by the protector, for enchanting and bewitching his withered arm? which to be false, all the world doth know, and but a quarrel made, only to oppress the life of the lord Hastings, and the lord Stanley. And thus mayest thou see, gentle reader! according to the wise man’s saying, ‘Nihil novum esse sub sole; nihilque dictum, quod non sit dictum prius,’ etc. Although these, with many more conjectures, may be alleged as some part of the defense of this duchess, and of her chaplains and priests, yet, because it may still not be impossible for the matter laid against them to be true, I leave it therefore at large, as I find it; saying, as I said before, that if that be true which the stories say in this matter, think, I beseech thee, gentle reader! that I have said nothing hereof. Only, because the matter may be disputable, and not impossible to be false, I have but moved thereof a question, and brought my conjectures, leaving the determination and judgment hereof to thy indifferent and free arbitrement. And, if Master Cope be so highly offended with me, because in my first edition of Acts and Monuments I durst name the lady Eleanor Cobham, and Roger Only; let him take this for a short answer, because my leisure serveth not to make long brawls with him: that if I had thought no imperfections to have passed in my former edition before, I would never have taken in hand the recognition thereof now the second time, whereby to spunge away such motes, as I thought would seem great stumbling blocks in such men’s walks, who walk with no charity to edify, but with malice to carp and reprehend, neither admonishing what they see amiss in others, neither tarrying while other men reform themselves; and, finally, finding quarrels where no great cause is justly given. And here an end with Master Cope for this time. THE CONTENTION BETWEEN THE RICH CARDINAL OF WINCHESTER, 31 AND HUMPHREY, THE GOOD DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. Forasmuch as in the process before, mention was touched concerning the grudge between the cardinal, called the rich cardinal of Winchester, and the good duke Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, the king’s uncle and protector of the realm, order of story now requireth to open some part of that matter more at large; wherein this, first, is to be understood, that, long before, great flames of grudge and discord did burst out between these two: for, as the noble heart of the duke could not abide the proud doings of the cardinal, so much again the cardinal, in like manner, sorely envied and disdained at the rule of the duke of Gloucester. Notwithstanding that by means of the duke of Bedford, the brasting out between them was before appeased and cured; yet not so, but that under imperfect amity, privy hatred (as sparkles under the embers) did still remain: so that the cardinal, joining with the archbishop of York, attempted many things of their own presumption, contrary to the consent, not only of the king, being then under age, but also of the protector and governor of the realm. Wherewith the duke, like a true hearted prince, being not without just cause offended, declared in writing to the king certain complaints contained in twenty-one articles, wherein the cardinal and archbishop had transgressed, both against the king, and his laws; the tenor whereof, more at large, is in other stories expressed. The brief abstract thereof followeth in a short summary here to be seen. CERTAIN POINTS OR ARTICLES OBJECTED BY DUKE HUMPHREY AGAINST THE CARDINAL OF WINCHESTER. First , To his sovereign prince, his right redoubted lord, complaineth duke Humphrey, his uncle and protector of the realm, That the bishop of Winchester, in the days of his father, king Henry V., took upon him the state of a cardinal, being denied by the king, saying, that he had as lief set his own crown beside him, as see him wear a cardinal’s hat; and that in parliaments, he, not being contented with the place of a bishop among the spiritual persons, presumed above his order: which the said duke desired to be redressed. II. Item, Whereas he, being made a cardinal was voided of his bishopric of Winchester, he procured from Rome the pope’s bull, unknown to the king; whereby he took again his bishopric, contrary to the common law of this realm, incurring thereby the case of Provision, and forfeiting all his goods to the king, by the law of ‘Praemuniri facias.’ III. Item, He complained that the said cardinal, with the archbishop of York, intruded themselves to have the governance of the king, and the doing, under the king, of temporal matters: excluding the king’s uncle, and other temporal lords of the king’s kin, from having knowledge of any great matter. IV. Item, Whereas the king had borrowed of the cardinal four thousand pounds, upon certain jewels, and afterwards had his money ready at the day to quit his jewels; the cardinal caused the treasurer to convert that money to the payment of another army, to keep the jewels still to his own use and gain. V. Item, He being then bishop of Winchester, and chancellor of England, delivered the king of Scots upon his own authority, contrary to the act of parliament, wedding his niece afterwards to the said king. Also, where the said king of Scots should have paid to the king forty thousand pounds, the cardinal procured ten thousand marks thereof to be remitted, and yet the rest very slenderly paid. VI. Item, The said cardinal, for lending notable sums to the king, had the profit of the port of Hampton, where he, setting his servants to be the customers, wool, and other merchandise, were, under that cloak, exported, not so much to his singular advantage, being the chief merchant, as to the great prejudice of the king, and detriment to his subjects. VII. Item, The cardinal, in lending out great sums to the king, yet so deferred and delayed the loan thereof, that, coming out of season, the same did the king little pleasure, but rather hinderance. VIII. Item, Where jewels and plate were prized at eleven thousand pounds in weight, of the said cardinal forfeited to the king; the cardinal, for loan of a little piece, got him a restorement thereof, to the king’s great damage, who better might have spared the commons, if the sum had remained to him clear. IX. Item, Where the king’s father had given Elizabeth Beauchamp three hundred marks of livelode, with this condition, If she wedded within a year; the cardinal, notwithstanding she was married two or three years after, yet gave her the same, to the king’s great hurt, and diminishing of his inheritance. X. Item, The cardinal, having no authority nor interest in the crown, presumed, notwithstanding, to call before him like a king: to the king’s high derogation. XI. Item, That the cardinal sued a pardon from Rome, to be freed from all disms, due to the king by the church of Winchester: giving thereby example to the clergy, to withdraw their disms likewise, and lay all the charge only upon the temporality and poor commons. XII. XIII. Item, By the procuring of the said cardinal and archbishop of York, great goods of the king’s were lost and dispended upon needless ambassades, first to Arras, then to Calais. XIV. Item, It was laid to the charge of the said cardinal and archbishop, that, by their means, going to Calais, the two enemies of the king, the duke of Orleans and duke of Burgundy, were reduced together in accord and alliance; who, being at war before between themselves, and now confederated together again, joined both together against the king’s towns and countries over the sea: to the great danger of Normandy, and destruction of the king’s people. XV. Item, By the archbishop of York and the cardinal, persuasions were moved openly in the king’s presence, with allurements and inducements, that the king should leave his right, his title, and the honor of his crown, in nominating him king of France, during certain years; and that he should utterly abstain, and be content, in writing, with ‘Rex Angliae’ only: to the great note and infamy of the king, and all his progenitors. XVI. XVII. Item, Through the sleight and subtlety of the said cardinal and his mate, a new convention was intended between the king and certain adversaries of France; also the deliverance of the duke of Orleans was appointed in such sort, as thereby great dis-worship and inconvenience were likely to fall, rather on the king’s side, than on the other. XVIII. Item, That the cardinal had purchased great lands and livelodes of the king, the duke being on the other side of the sea occupied in wars, which redounded little to the worship and profit of the king; and, moreover, he had the king bound to make him, by Easter next, as sure estate of all those lands, as could be devised by any learned counsel, or else that the said cardinal should have, and enjoy, to him and his heirs for ever, the lands of the duchy of Lancaster in Norfolk, to the value of seven or eight hundred marks by the year. XIX. Item, Whereas the duke, the king’s uncle, had often offered his service for the defense of the realm of France, and the duchy of Normandy; the cardinal ever labored to the contrary, in preferring others, after his singular affection: whereby a great part of Normandy hath been lost. XX. Item, Seeing the cardinal was risen to such riches and treasure, which could grow to him, neither by his church, nor by inheritance (which he then had), it was of necessity to be thought, that it came by his great deceits, in deceiving both the king and his subjects, in selling offices, preferments, livelodes, captainships, both here, and in the realm of France, and in Normandy: so that what hath been there lost, he hath been the greatest causer thereof. XXI. Furthermore, when the said cardinal had forfeited all his goods by the statute of Provision, he, having the rule of the king, and of other matters of the realm, purchased from the pope a charter of pardon, not only to the defeating of the laws of the realm, but also to the defrauding of the king, who, otherwise, might and should have had wherewith to sustain his wars, without any tallage of his poor people, etc. When the king heard these accusations, he committed the hearing thereof to his council, whereof the most part were spiritual persons. So, what for fear, and what for favor, the matter was winked at, and dallied out, and nothing said thereunto; and a fair countenance was made to the duke, as though no displeasure had been taken, nor malice borne in these spiritual stomachs. But, shortly after, the smoke hereof, not able to keep in any longer within the spiritual breasts of these charitable churchmen, burst out in flames of mischief. For, upon the neck of this matter, as witnesseth Fabian, Polychronicon, and Hall, who followeth Polychronicon, first ensued the condemnation of lady Eleanor, the duchess, and her chaplains, as ye have heard before: whereby the said duchess may appear, more of malice than of any just cause thus to have been troubled. Also, within six years after, followed the lamentable destruction of the duke himself, as hereafter more is to be declared. About this time, or not long after, A.D. 1443, the steeple of Paul’s was set on fire by lightning, and at last, by diligent labor of helpers, the fire was quenched. And after the condemnation of lady Eleanor, the duchess aforesaid, within few years, A.D. 1445, followed the death of Henry Chichesley, archbishop of Canterbury, by whom she was condemned in St. Stephen’s chapel at Westminster, for penance, to bear a taper through Cheapside three sundry times, and afterwards outlawed to the Isle of Man, under the custody of sir John Standly, knight. This Henry Chichesley builded in his time two colleges in the university of Oxford, the one called All-Souls’ College, the other named Barnard College. THE STORY AND DEATH OF HUMPHREY, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. Proceeding now to the year wherein suffered Humphrey, that good duke of Gloucester, which was A.D. 1447, first we will begin in few words to treat: of his life and conversation; and then of the manner and cause of his death. As touching the offspring and descent of this duke, first, he was the son of Henry IV., brother to king Henry V., and uncle to king Henry VI., assigned to be the governor and protector of his person. Of manners he seemed meek and gentle, loving the commonwealth, a supporter of the poor commons, of wit and wisdom, discreet and studious, well affected to religion, and a friend to verity; and no less enemy to pride and ambition, especially in haughty prelates, which was his undoing in this present evil world. And, which is seldom and rare in such princes of that calling, he was both learned himself, and no less given to study, and also a singular favorer and patron to those who were studious and learned. And, that my commendation of him may have the more credit, I will produce the testimony of learned writers, who, living in his time, not only do commend his famous knowledge, and ripeness of learning in him, but also committed and submitted their works to his judgment, to be examined. Of which writers, one is Petrus de Monte, writing, “De virtutum et vitiorum differentia;” who, in his epistle dedicatory, beginneth with the singular commendation of this duke; and afterwards, speaking “De optimarum artium liberaliumque scientiarum peritia,” saith thus: “Cui tu quidem omni conatu, omni ingenio, atque studio incumbis; adeo ut nihil tibi sine librorum lectione jucundum, gratum aut certe delectabile videatur,” etc. And in further process of his work, thus he further declareth, saying, “Delectaris autem non una tantum arte aut scientia, quanquam et id quidem esset satis, rerum fere omnibus; earumque codices magna quadam aviditate legisti,” etc. Besides this Petrus de Monte, let us hear also the judgment of another writer of the same age, named Lapiscastellius, who, likewise, dedicating to the said duke Humphrey his book, entitled “Comparatio studiorum et rei militaris,” amongst divers other words commendatory, hath these which follow: “Ad to potissimum mitto, quod horum to optimum et sapientissimum judicem fore existimo, qui, ut ex integervimo patre domino Zenone Bajocensi Episcopo, homine tuae laudis cupidissimo, accepi, ita in his humanitatis studiis invigilares, ut nullus toto terrarum orbe princeps nec doctrina, nec eloquentia, nec humanitate tecum comparandus sit,” etc. Many other arguments and places may be brought to declare, what is to be esteemed of the learning and studious wit of this noble prince. Furthermore, as the learning of this prince was rare and memorable, so was the discreet wisdom and singular prudence in him no less to be considered; as, for the more manifest proof thereof, I thought here good, amongst many other his godly doings, to recite one example, reported as well by the pen of sir Thomas More, as also by Master William Tindal, the true apostle of these our later days, to the intent to see and note, not only the crafty working of false miracles in the clergy, but also that the prudent discretion of this high and mighty prince, the aforesaid duke Humphrey, may give us the better to understand what man he was. The story lieth thus: In the young days of this king Henry VI., being yet under the governance of this duke Humphrey, his protector, there came to St. Alban’s a certain beggar with his wife, and was walking there about the town begging five or six days before the king’s coming thither; saying, that he was born blind, and never saw in his life, and was warned in his dream, that he should come out of Berwick, where he said he had ever dwelled, to seek St. Alban; and that he had been at his shrine, and had not been holpen, and therefore he would go and seek him at some other place; for he had heard some say, since he came, that St. Alban’s body should be at Cologne: and indeed such a contention hath there been; but of a truth, as I am surely informed, he lieth here, at St. Alban’s, saving some relics of him, which they there show shrined. But, to tell you forth my tale, when the king was come, and the town full, suddenly this blind man, at St. Alban’s shrine, had his sight again, and a miracle solemnly rung, and ‘Te Deum’ sung; so that nothing was talked of in all the town, but this miracle. So happened it then, that duke Humphrey of Gloucester, a man also no less wise than well learned, having great joy to see such a miracle, called the poor man unto him; and first showing himself joyous of God’s glory so showed in the getting of his sight, and exhorting him to meekness, and to no ascribing of any part of the worship to himself, nor to be proud of the people’s praise, who would call him a good and godly man thereby; at last, he looked well upon his eyes, and asked whether he could see nothing at all in all his life before. And when his wife, as well as himself, affirmed falsely “no,” then he looked advisedly upon his eyes again, and said, “I believe you very well, for me thinketh ye cannot see well yet.” “Yea sir,” quoth he, “I thank God and his holy martyr, I can see now as well as any man.” “You can,” quoth the duke, “What color is my gown?” Then anon the beggar told him. “What color,” quoth he, “is this man’s gown?” He told him also, and so forth: without any sticking he told him the names of all the colors that could be showed him. And when the duke saw that, he bade him “walk, traitor,” and made him to be set openly in the stocks: for though he could have seen suddenly, by miracle, the difference between divers colors; yet could he not, by the sight, so suddenly tell the names of all these colors, except he had known them before, no more than the names of all the men, that he should suddenly see. By this may it be seen, how duke Humphrey had not only a head, to discern and dissever truth from forged and feigned hypocrisy; but study also, and diligence, likewise, was in him, to reform that which was amiss. And thus much, hitherto, for the noble prowess and virtues, joined with the like ornaments of knowledge and literature, shining in this princely duke: for which as he was both loved of the poor commons, and well spoken of, of all men, and no less deserving the same, being called the ‘good’ duke of Gloucester; so neither yet wanted he his enemies and privy enviers, whether it was through the fatal and unfortunate luck of the name of that house, which is but a vain and frivolous observation of Polydore, and Hall, 33 who followeth him, bringing in the examples of Hugh Spenser; of Thomas of Woodstock, son of king Edward III.; of this duke Humphrey; and, after, of king Richard III., duke likewise of Gloucester. Or whether it was, that the nature of true virtue is commonly such, that, as the flame ever beareth his smoke, and the body his shadow, so the brightness of virtue never blazeth, but hath some disdain or envy waiting upon it: or else, whether it was rather for some divorcement from his wife, or for some other vice or trespass done (as seemeth most like truth), which God, as well in dukes’ houses correcteth, as in other inferior persons; especially where he loveth. But, howsoever the cause is to us unknown, this good duke of Gloucester, albeit being both the king’s sole uncle, and having so many well-willers through the whole realm, yet lacked not he his Satan, lacked not he his secret maligners. Of whom, specially, was Henry Beaufort, cardinal, bishop of Winchester, and chancellor of England; who, of long time disdaining and envying the rule and authority of this duke, first had disposed and appointed himself to remove the king’s person from Eltham unto Windsor, out of the duke’s hands, and there to put in such governors as him listed. After that, intending the duke’s death, he set men of arms and archers at the end of London-bridge, and fore-barring the highway with a draw-chain, set men in chambers, cellars, and windows, with bows and arrows, and other weapons, to the purposed destruction both of the duke and his retinue, if God had not so disposed to turn his journey another way. Beside other manifold injuries and molestations, the ambitious cardinal, seeking by all means to be pope, procured such trouble against him, that great division was thereby in the whole realm; insomuch that all the shops within the city of London were shut, for fear of the favorers of these two great personages: for each part had assembled no small number of people. For the pacifying whereof, the archbishop of Canterbury, and the duke of Coimbra, called the prince of Portugal, rode seven times in one day, between those two adver saries. Such were then the troubles of this tumultuous division within the realm, and all by the excitation of this unquiet cardinal. Over and beside this cardinal afore-mentioned, another capital enemy to the said duke was William de la Pole, first earl, then marquis, at last duke of Suffolk; a man very ill reported of in stories, to be not only the organ and instrument of this good man’s death, but also to be the annoyance of the commonwealth, and ruin of the realm. For, by him, and his only device, was first concluded the unprofitable and unhonorable marriage between the king and lady Margaret, daughter of the duke of Anjou; whereas the king had concluded and contracted a marriage, before, with the daughter of the earl of Armagnac, upon conditions so much more profitable and honorable, as more convenient it is for a prince to marry a wife with riches and friends, than to take a maid with nothing, and disinherit himself and his realm of old rights and ancient inheritance: which so came to pass. And all this the good duke did well foresee, and declared no less: but his counsel would not be taken. Whereupon followed first, the giving away the duchy of Anjou, and the city of Maine, with the whole country of Maine, to Rene, duke of Anjou, and father of the damsel, called then king of Sicily and of Jerusalem, having thereof no penny profit, but only a vain name to play withal. Another sore enemy and mortal plague to this duke was the queen herself, lately before married to the king; who, being of haughty stomach, and all set upon glory, of wit and wiliness lacking nothing, and perceiving her husband to be simple of wit, and easy to be ruled, took upon her to rule and govern both the king and kingdom. And because the advice and counsel of Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, was somewhat a stay that her authority and regiment could not so fully proceed; and, partly, because the said duke before did disagree from that marriage, this manly woman and courageous queen ceased not, by all imaginations and practices possible, to set forward his destruction, having also for her helper herein the duke of Buckingham, etc. These being his principal enemies and mortal foes, fearing lest some commotion might arise, if such a prince, so near the king’s blood, and so dear to the people, and of all men so beloved, should be openly executed and put to death, they devised how to entrap him, and circumvent him unknowing and unprovided: for the more speedy furtherance whereof a parliament was summoned to be kept at Bury, A.D. 1447, far from the citizens of London, as William Tindal in his Book of Practice writeth; where resorted all the peers of the realm, and amongst them the duke of Gloucester, thinking no harm to any man, and less to himself. Who, on the second day of the session was, by the lord Beaumond, high constable then of England, accompanied with the duke of Buckingham and others, arrested, apprehended, and put in ward, and, upon the same, all his servants discharged and put from him; of whom thirty-two of the principal, being also under arrest, were dispersed into divers prisons, to the great murmuring and grievances of the people. After this arrest thus done, and the duke put into ward, the night after (saith Hall; six nights after, saith Fabian and Polychron.), he was found dead in his bed, the 24th of February, and his body showed to the lords and commons, as though he had been taken naturally with some sudden disease. And although no wound in his body could be seen, yet to all indifferent persons it might well be judged, that he died of no natural pang, but of some violent hand. Some suspected him to be strangled, some that a whole spit was privily forced into his body; some affirm that he was stifled between two feather beds. After the death of this duke, and his body being interred at St. Alban’s, after he had politicly, by the space of twenty-five years, governed this realm, five of his household, to wit, one knight, three esquires, and a yeoman, were arraigned, and convicted to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. Who, being hanged and cut down half alive, the marquis of Suffolk, there present, showed the charter of the king’s pardon, and so they were delivered. Notwithstanding, all this could not appease the grudge of the people, saying, That the saving of the servants was no amends for the murdering of the master. In this cruel fact of these persons, who did so conspire and consent to the death of this noble man, and who thought thereby to work their own safety, the marvellous works of God’s judgment appear herein to be noted; who, as in all other like cruel policies of man, so in this also, turned all their policies dean contrary; so that where the queen thought most to preserve her husband in honor, and herself in state, thereby both she lost her husband, her husband lost his realm, the realm lost Anjou, Normandy, the duchy of Aquitaine, with all her parts beyond the sea, Calais only excepted; as, in the sequel of the matter, whoso will read the stories, shall right well understand. The next year following, it followed also that the cardinal, who was the principal artificer and ringleader of all this mischief, was suffered of God no longer to live. Of whose wicked conditions, being more largely set forth in Edward Hall, I omit here to speak. What he himself spake on his deathbed, for example to others, I thought not best to pretermit; who, hearing that he should die, and that there was no remedy, murmured and grudged, wherefore he should die having so much riches, saying, That if the whole realm would save his life, he was able either by policy to get it, or by riches to buy it; adding and saying moreover, “Fie,” quoth he, “will not death be hired? will money do nothing? When my nephew of Bedford died, I thought myself half up the wheel, but when I saw mine other nephew of Gloucester deceased, then I thought myself able to be equal with kings, and so thought to increase my treasure, in hope to have worn the triple crown,” etc. 34 And thus is the rich bishop of Winchester with all his pomp and riches gone; with which riches he was able, not only to build schools, colleges, and universities, but also was able to sustain the king’s armies in war (as is specified in stories) without any taxing of the commons. In whose seat next succeeded William Wanfleet, preferred to the bishopric of Winchester; who, though he had less substance, yet having a mind more godly disposed, did found and erect the college of Mary Magdalen, in Oxford; for which foundation as there have been, and be yet, many students bound to yield grateful thanks unto God, so I must needs confess myself to be one, except I will be unkind. Among the other mischievous adversaries who sought and wrought the death of Humphrey duke of Gloucester, next to the cardinal of Winchester (who, as is said, died the next year following),was William de la Pole, marquis of Suffolk, who also lived not long after, nor long escaped unpunished. For, although he was highly exalted, by the means of the queen (whose marriage he only procured), unto the favor of the king, and was made duke of Suffolk, and magnified of the people, and bare the whole sway in the realm, whose acts and facts his vain glorious head caused also, by the assent of the commons, to be recorded, and substantially to be registered in the rolls of the parliament, for a perpetual renown to him and all his posterity for ever; yet, notwithstanding, the hand of God’s judgment still hanging over him, he enjoyed not long this his triumphant victory: for, within three years after the death and ruin of the cardinal, the voices of the whole commons of England were utterly turned against him, accusing him, in the parliament at the Black-Friars, for delivery of the duchy of Anjou, and the earldom of Maine; also for the death of the noble prince Humphrey, duke of Gloucester. They imputed, more-over, to him the loss of all Normandy, laying unto him, that he was a swallower-up and consumer of the king’s treasure, the expeller of all good and virtuous counsellors from the king, and advancer of vicious persons, apparent adversaries to the public wealth; so that he was called in every man’s mouth, a traitor, a murderer, and a robber of the king’s treasure. The queen, albeit she tenderly loved the duke, yet, to appease the exclamation of the commons, was forced to commit him to the Tower; where he, with as much pleasure and liberty as could be, remained for a month, which being expired, he was delivered and restored again unto his old place, and former favor with the king; whereat the people more grudged than before. It happened by the occasion of a commotion then beginning amongst the rude people, by one whom they called Bluebeard, that the parliament was for that time adjourned to Leicester, the queen thinking by force and rigour of law to repress, there, the malice and evilwill conceived against the duke. But at that place few of the nobility would appear: wherefore it was again rejourned unto London, and kept at Westminster, where was a whole company, and a full appearance with the king and queen, and with them the duke of Suffolk, as chief counsellor. The commons, not forgetting their old grudge, renewed again their former articles and accusations against the said duke, against the bishop of Salisbury, and sir James Fynies, lord Say, and others. When the king perceived that no glossing nor dissimulation would serve to appease the continual clamor of the importunate commons, to make some quiet pacification, first, he sequestered from him the lord Say, treasurer of England, and other the duke’s adherents from their offices. Then he put in exile the duke of Suffolk for a term of five years; supposing, by that space, the furious rage of the people would assuage. But the hand of God would not suffer the guiltless blood of Humphrey duke of Gloucester to be unrevenged, or that flagitious person further to continue. For when he was shipped in Suffolk, intending to be transported into France, he was encountered with a ship of war belonging to the Tower, whereby he was taken, and brought into Dover-roads, and there, on the side of a ship-boat, one struck off his head: which was A.D. 1450. And thus have ye heard the full story and discourse of duke Humphrey, and of all his adversaries; also of God’s condign punishment upon them for their bloody cruelty. But before I remove from the said story of the aforesaid duke, and of the proud cardinal his enemy, I will here annex, by the way, a certain instrument, by the king and advice of his council, made against the said cardinal, taking upon him to enter into this realm as legate from the pope, contrary to the old laws and customs of this realm; as by the words of the said instrument hereunder in Latin may well appear. The sum and effect whereof in English is this: SUBSTANCE OF THE KING’S WRIT AGAINST ADMITTING THE POPE’S LEGATE. In the year of our Lord 1428, as the king, with duke Humphrey lord protector, and the rest of the council, were in the duke’s house in the parish of St. Bennet’s by Paul’s-wharf, one Richard Candray, procurator, in the king’s name and behalf, did protest and denounce, by this public instrument: that whereas the king and all his progenitors, kings before him of this realm of England, have been heretofore possessed, time out of mind, with special privilege and custom used and observed in this realm from time to time, that no legate from the apostolic see should enter into this land or any of the king’s dominions, without the calling, petition, request, invitement, or desire of the king; and forasmuch as Henry, bishop of Winchester, and cardinal of St. Eusebius, hath presumed so to enter as legate from the pope, being neither called, sent for, required, nor desired by the king; therefore the said Richard Candray, in the king’s name, doth protest by this instrument, that it standeth not with the king’s mind or intent, by the advice of his council, to admit, approve, or ratify the coming of the said legate in any wise, in derogation of the rights, customs and laws of this his realm; or to recognize, or assent to, any exercise of this his authority legatine, or to any acts, attempts, or hereafter by him to be attempted in this respect, contrary to the foresaid laws, rights, customs, and liberties of this realm, by these presents, etc. And thus much as an appendix, annexed to the story of duke Humphrey, and the cardinal of Winchester, extracted out of an old written volume, remaining in the hands of Master William Bowyer. THE INVENTION AND BENEFIT OF PRINTING. In following the course and order of years, we find this aforesaid year of our Lord 1450, to be famous and memorable, for the divine and miraculous invention of printing. Nauclerus, and Wimphelingus following him, refer the invention thereof to the year 1440. In Paralipomena, 37 it is recorded this faculty to be found, A.D. 1446. Aventinus and Zieglerus do say, A.D. 1450. The first inventor thereof (as most agree) is thought to be a German, dwelling first in Strasburg, afterwards citizen of Mentz, named John Faustus, a goldsmith. The occasion of this invention first was by engraving the letters of the alphabet in metal; who then, laying black ink upon the metal, gave the form of letters in paper. The man being industrious and active, perceiving that, thought to proceed further, and to prove whether it would frame as well in words, and in whole sentences, as it did in letters. Which when he perceived to come well to pass, he made certain others of his counsel, one John Guttemberg and Peter Schafferd, binding them by their oath to keep silence for a season. After ten years John Guttemberg, copartner with John Faustus, began then first to broach the matter at Strasburg. The art, being yet but rude, in process of time was set forward by inventive wits, adding more and more to the perfection thereof; in the number of whom, John Mentel, John Prus, and Adolphus Ruschius, were great helpers. Ulricus Hall, in Latin called Gallus, first brought it to Rome; whereof the epigram was made: “Anser Tarpeii custos, vigilando quod alis Constreperes, Gallus decidit. Ultor adest. Ulricus Gallus, ne quem poscantur in usum, Edocuit pennis nil opus esse tuis.” Notwithstanding, what man soever was the instrument, without all doubt God himself was the ordainer and disposer thereof; no otherwise than he was of the gift of tongues, and that for a singular purpose. And well may this gift of printing be resembled to the gift of tongues: for like as God then spake with many tongues, and yet all that would not turn the Jews; so now, when the Holy Ghost speaketh to the adversaries in innumerable sorts of books, yet they will not be converted, nor turn to the gospel. Now, to consider to what end and purpose the Lord hath given this gift of printing to the earth, and to what great utility and necessity it serveth, it is not hard to judge, whoso wisely perpendeth both the time of the sending, and the sequel which thereof ensueth. And first, touching the time of this faculty given to the use of man, this is to be marked, that when the bishop of Rome, with all the whole and full consent of the cardinals, patriarchs, archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, lawyers, doctors, provosts, deans, archdeacons, assembled together in the council of Constance, had condemned poor John Huss and Jerome of Prague to death for heresy, notwithstanding they were no heretics; and after they had subdued the Bohemians and all the whole world under the supreme authority of the Romish see; and had made all christian people obedienciaries and vassals unto the same, having (as one would say) all the world at their will, so that the matter now was past, not only the power of all men, but the hope also of any man to be recovered: in this very time so dangerous and desperate, where man’s power could do no more, there the blessed wisdom and omnipotent power of the Lord began to work for his church; not with sword and target to subdue his exalted adversary, but with printing, writing, and reading: to convince darkness by light, error by truth, ignorance by learning. So that by this means of printing, the secret operation of God hath heaped upon that proud kingdom a double confusion. For whereas the bishop of Rome had burned John Huss before, and Jerome of Prague, who neither denied his transubstantiation, nor his supremacy, nor vet his popish mass, but said mass, and heard mass themselves; neither spake against his purgatory, nor any other great matter of his popish doctrine, but only exclaimed against his excessive and pompous pride, his unchristian or rather antichristian abomination of life: thus, while he could not abide his wickedness only of life to be touched, but made it heresy, or at least matter of death, whatsoever was spoken against his detestable conversation and manners, God, of his secret judgment, seeing time to help his church, hath found a way, by this faculty of printing, not only to confound his life and conversation, which before he could not abide to be touched, but also to cast down the foundation of his standing; that is, to examine, confute, and detect his doctrine, laws, and institutions most detestable, in such sort, that though his life were never so pure, yet his doctrine standing as it doth, no man is so blind but he may see, that either the pope is Antichrist, or else that Antichrist is near cousin to the pope; and all this doth and will, hereafter, more and more appear by printing. The reason whereof is this: for that hereby tongues are known, knowledge groweth, judgment increaseth, books are dispersed, the Scripture is seen, the doctors be read, stories be opened, times compared, truth discerned, falsehood detected, and with finger pointed, and all (as I said) through the benefit of printing. Wherefore I suppose, that either the pope must abolish printing, or he must seek a new world to reign over: for else, as this world standeth, printing doubtless will abolish him. But the pope, and all his college of cardinals, must this understand: that through the light of printing the world beginneth now to have eyes to see, and heads to judge; he cannot walk so invisible in a net, but he will be spied. And although, through might, he stopped the mouth of John Huss before, and of Jerome, that they might not preach, thinking to make his kingdom sure; yet, instead of John Huss and others, God hath opened the Press to preach, whose voice the pope is never able to stop with all the puissance of his triple crown. By this printing, as by the gift of tongues, and as by the singular organ of the Holy Ghost, the doctrine of the gospel soundeth to all nations and countries under heaven; and what God revealeth to one man, is dispersed to many, and what is known in one nation, is opened to all. The first and best were for the bishop of Rome, by the benefit of printing, to learn and know the truth. If he will not, let him well understand that printing is not set up for nought. To strive against the stream it availeth not. What the pope hath lost, since printing and the press began to preach, let him east his counters. First, when Erasmus wrote, and Frobenius printed, what a blow thereby was given to all friars and monks in the world? And who seeth not that the pen of Luther, following after Erasmus, and set forward by writing, hath set the triple crown so awry on the pope’s head, that it is like never to be set straight again? Briefly, if there were no demonstration to lead, yet by this one argument of printing, the bishop of Rome might understand the counsel and purpose of the Lord to work against him, having provided such a way in earth, that almost how many printing presses there be in the world, so many blockhouses there be against the high castle of St. Angelo; so that either the pope must abolish knowledge and printing, or printing at length will root him out. 39 For if a man wisely consider the hold and standing of the pope, thus he may repute with himself: that as nothing made the pope strong in time past, but lack of knowledge and ignorance of simple Christians; so, contrariwise, now nothing doth debilitate and shake the high spire of his papacy so much, as reading, preaching, knowledge, and judgment; that is to say, the fruit of printing, whereof some experience we see already, and more is like (by the Lord’s blessing)to follow. For although, through outward force and violent cruelty, tongues dare not speak, yet the hearts of men daily, no doubt, be instructed through this benefit of printing. And though the pope both now by cruelty, and in times past by ignorance, had all under his possession, yet, neither must he think that violence will always continue, neither must he hope for that now which he had then; forasmuch as in those former days books then were scarce, and also of such excessive price, that few could attain to the buying, fewer to the reading and studying thereof; which books now, by means of this art, are made easy unto all men. *Herein 40 also appeareth the prophecy of the Sibyls to be fulfilled, who, long time before, had prophesied, that flax and line should subvert and overthrow Antichrist, God’s enemy. Wherefore, as God, by his marvellous providence, for the advancement of his glory, gave the understanding of this art or science, for the abolishing of ignorance and idolatry, so, as in these our days, we may well perceive and see how that the pope, that Great Antichrist of Rome, could never have been suppressed, and, being suppressed, could not have been kept under, except this most excellent science of printing had been maintained; whereby the shameful hypocrisy of the papists is detected and discovered unto the whole world, and God’s truth and glory manifestly set forth and advanced.* Ye heard before, 41 how Nicholas Belward bought a New Testament in those days for four marks and forty pence, whereas now, the same price will well serve forty persons with so many books. Moreover, it was before noted and declared by the testimony of Armachanus, how, for defect of books and good authors, both universities were decayed, and good wits kept in ignorance, while begging friars, scraping all the wealth from other priests, heaped up all books that could be gotten, into their own libraries; where, either they did not diligently apply them, or else did not rightly use them, or at least kept them from such as more fruitfully would have perused them. In this then so great rarity, and also dearth of good books, when neither they who could have books would well use them, nor they that would, could have them to use, what marvel if the greediness of a few prelates did abuse the blindness of those days, to the advancement of themselves? Wherefore Almighty God, of his merciful providence, seeing both what lacked in the church, and how also to remedy the same, for the advancement of his glory, gave the understanding of this excellent art or science of printing, whereby three singular commodities at one time came into the world. First, the price of all books is diminished. Secondly, the speedy help of reading is more furthered. And thirdly, the plenty of all good authors is enlarged; according as Campanus, bishop of Abruzzo, 626 doth truly report: ‘Imprimit ille die, quantum non scribitur anno.’ The Press, in one day, will do in printing, That none, in one year, can do in writing. By reason whereof, as printing of books ministered matter of reading, so reading brought learning, learning showed light, by the brightness whereof blind ignorance was suppressed, error detected, and finally, God’s glory, with truth of his word, advanced. This faculty of printing was after the invention of guns, the space of one hundred and thirty years; which latter invention was also found in Germany, A.D. 1380. And thus much for the worthy commendation of printing. THE LAMENTABLE LOSING OF CONSTANTINOPLE. A.D. 1453, Constantinus Paleologus, being emperor of Constantinople, the twenty-ninth day of May, the great city of Constantinople was taken by the Turk Mahomet after the siege of fifty-four days; which siege began in the beginning of April. Within the city, besides the citizens, were but only six thousand rescuers of the Greeks, and three thousand of the Venetians and Genoese. Against these, Mahomet brought an army of four hundred thousand, collected out of the countries and places adjoining near about; as out of Grecia, Illyrica, Wallachia, Dardanis, Triballis, Bulgaria, out of Bithynia, Galatia, Lydia, Cilicia, 627 and such others; which places had the name yet of Christians. Thus, one neighbor, for lucre’s sake, helped to destroy another. The city was compassed of the Turks both by the sea and land. Mahomet the Turk divided his army into three sundry parts, which in three parts of the city so beat the walls and brake them down, that they attempted, by the breaches thereof, to enter the city. But the valiantness of the Christians therein won much commendation; whose duke was called John Justinianus, of Genoa. But forasmuch as the assaults were great, and the number of the christian soldiers daily decreased, fighting both at the walls and at the haven against such a multitude of the Turks, they were not able long to hold out. Besides the armies which lay battering at the walls, the Turk had, upon the sea, his navy of two hundred and fifty sail, lying upon the haven of the city, reaching from the one side of the haven’s mouth unto the other, as if a bridge should be made from the one bank to the other; which haven by the citizens was barred with iron chains, whereby the Turks were kept out a certain space. Against which navy seven ships there were of Genoa within the haven, and three of Crete, and certain of Chios, which stood against them. Also the soldiers, issuing out of the city as occasion would serve, did manfully gainstand them, and with wildfire set their ships on fire, that for a certain space they could serve to no use. At length the chains being burst, and a way made, the Turk’s navy entered the haven, and assaulted the city; whereby the Turk began to conceive great hope, and was in forwardness to obtain the city. The assault and skirmish then waxing more hot, Mahomet the tyrant, stood by, upon a hill, with his warriors about him, crying and howling out unto them to scale the walls and enter the town: otherwise, if any reculed, 42 he threatened to kill them; and so he did. Wherefore a great number of his soldiers, in their repulse and retire, were slain by the Turk’s men, being sent by his commandment to slay them: and so they were justly served, and well payed their hire. Although this was some comfort to the Christians, to see and behold, out of the city, the Turk’s retinue so consumed, yet that hope lasted not long. Shortly after, by rage of war, it happened that Justinian, the duke abovenamed, was hurt; who, notwithstanding that he was earnestly desired by Paleologus the emperor, not to leave his tower which he had to keep, seeing his wound was not deadly dangerous, yet could he not be entreated to tarry, but left his standing, and his fort dis-furnished, setting none in his place to award the same. And so this doughty duke, hurt more with his false heart than with force of weapon, gave over and fled to Chios, where, shortly after, for sorrow, rather than for soreness of his wound, he died. Many of his soldiers, seeing their captain flee, followed after, leaving their fort utterly destitute without defense. The Turks, under- standing that vantage, soon burst into the city: the emperor Paleogolus seeing no other way but to flee, making toward the gate, either was slain, or else trodden down with the multitude; in which gate eight hundred dead men’s bodies were found and taken up. The city of Constantinople thus being got, the Turks, sacking and ranging about the streets, houses, and corners, did put to the sword most unmercifully whomsoever they found, both aged and young, matrons, virgins, children and infants, sparing none. The noble matrons and virgins were horribly used; the goods of the city, the treasures in houses, the ornaments in churches were all sacked and spoiled; the pictures of Christ opprobriously handled, in hatred of Christ. The spoil and havoc of the city lasted three days together, while the barbarous soldiers murdered and rifled what them listed. These things thus being done, and the tumult ceased, after three days Mahomet the Turk entereth into the city; and first calling for the heads and ancients of the city, such as he found to be left alive, he commanded them to be mangled and cut in pieces. It is also (saith my author) reported, that in the feasts of the Turks, honest matrons and virgins, and such as were of the king’s stock, after other contumelies, were hewn and cut in pieces for their disport. And this was the end of that princely and famous city of Constantinople, beginning first with Constantine, and ending also with Constantine, which for the princely royalty thereof, was named and ever honored, from the time of the first Constantine, equally with the city of Rome, and called also by the name thereof New Rome, and also continued the space of eleven hundred and twenty years. I pray God that Old Rome may learn of New Rome, to take heed and beware betimes. This terrible destruction of the city of Constantinople, the queen of cities, I thought here to describe, not so much to set forth the barbarous cruelty of these filthy rake-hells and merciless murderers; as specially for this, that we, being admonished by the doleful ruin and misery of these our even christened, may call to mind the plagues and miseries deserved, which seem to hang no less over our own heads, and thereby may learn betimes to invocate, and call more earnestly upon, the name of our terrible and merciful God, that he, for his Son’s sake, will keep us, and preserve his church among us, and mitigate those plagues and sorrows, which we no less have deserved, than these above minded have done before us. Christ grant it, Amen! THE HISTORY OF REYNOLD PEACOCK, BISHOP OF CHICHESTER AFFLICTED AND TORMENTED BY THE FALSE BISHOPS FOR HIS GODLINESS, AND PROFESSION OF THE GOSPEL. *It is not to be marvelled at, if the tyranny of these men did so prevail, and overrun the lay-citizens and common sort of priests, that neither the mitre, nor the anointing, could make the bishops, themselves to live in safety; so is there no kind of degree or order, in which some fruit, as dusters of the vineyard, doth not spring and grow up unto the Lord; as amongst priests, monks, friars, lay-men soldiers, and courtiers, of whom we have somewhat spoken before; the order of the bishops only was behind, being yet slow and in bringing forth fruit. Howbeit it is not to be doubted but that the Lord, even amongst them, hath his remainder, who have not bowed their knees unto Baal, as in times past the Pharisaical people had their Nicodemus and Gamaliel: although that these kind of people are very rare and hard to be found; and few of them, either for fear of peril, or loss of substance, dare openly profess that which they do think. Amongst the rest we will bring forth and allege one man, Peacock, bishop, first by the title 628 of St. Asaph, if there were any such saint, and afterward of Chichester. This man, after had received into his heart some sparks of the pure and sincere religion (all be it that he did not greatly attempt any thing against the bishops in this troublous time), foreseeing and providing for his own safe-guard as much as he might, yet could he not so lurk, or lie hidden, but that at length he was perceived. These men have so many marks, so many eyes, so many suspicions, that there can be none so small a thing which may pass or scape them; no so high estate or dignity, unto which these men, through their cruel and unshamefaced tyranny, will not give assualt: in so much that now they begin not only to be feared of the common people, but also to be a terror unto kings and princes. Peacock was taken and carried straight unto Lambeth; Thomas Burschere, archbishop of Canterbury, then primate, bearing all the rule. Then the doctors and bishops gathered together into the archbishops court, in which convocation the duke of Buckingham was present, accompanied with the bishop of Rochester, and the bishop of Lincoln, where, besides many other articles, the presence of the bread in the sacrament was laid unto Peacock: insomuch that the knot of amity and concord which was ordained by Christ, to the great comfort of the church, (I know not by what means,) through the envy of Satan, is turned into a matter of most grievous discord and dissension amongst Christians. Insomuch that there hath in a manner no matter continued so many years more pernicious or hurtful unto men’s salvation, than that from whence the chief seed or offspring of mutual consolation and comfort of men’s life, ought to be taken and sought for. For what other thing doth the communicating of the Lord’s body and blood declare unto us, but first of all a testimony and witness of his benefits towards us, and of our amity and joining with him? For we do understand by the bread, which is communicate and given unto every man, that his body once broken was given unto all and every one of us. So likewise the cup, passing through us all in order, declareth that the blood once shed for us, not for Himself alone, was, as it were, bestowed for the salvation of all men. Therefore, lest any man should think that His passion should be vain, but that it alone should work in all men (as many as do believe or hereafter shall believe) absolute and perfect peace and quietness, and eternal refreshing of the soul, now languishing with over-long hunger; therefore, as a figure and remembrance of that thing, is the bread together with the cup set before us; which, being received into the outward man, it is easy to be understanded what the sacrifice of his body, applied unto us by faith, worketh in our inward soul. For by faith that sacrifice is to be applied, if we will have it profit us any thing at all: for, except the meat be received, it engendereth no nourishing, Therefore we are commanded to eat. Even so, where faith doth not receive Christ, there is no hope of life or quietness of soul; the body is quickened up with eternal life, by the bread which is received, albeit that the bread alone, without the cup, is not of so great effect; neither otherwise is the body and blood of Christ as common meat, but mystical and spiritual food, wherewithal our bodies are not fed, but our spiritual parts and members. For corporal and bodily things are apt and fit for bodies, and spiritual things for the spiritual parts. Therefore I call this, spiritual food or sustenance; for as much as whatsoever effect corporal food worketh in the sustentation of the body, the same doth Christ work in our spiritual soul. That is to say: he feedeth it, refresheth, quickeneth, maketh it joyful, maintaineth and supporteth it, and restoreth it unto everlasting life; giveth peace unto the unquiet conscience, reconcileth the Father’s wrath, pacifieth the displeasure of sin, and giveth all kind of abundance of heavenly grace; and, finally, whatsoever force and power the meat outwardly received hath in the visible body, the like power and strength doth the Son of God perform in our invisible members, if he be received with faith. Thus, not without cause, he is called food in the mystical Scriptures, where the Lord himself prophesieth, saying: “Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, you shall have no life in you;” in which place the bare words are not to be looked upon, but the analogy of them; that, like as the Son of God is meat, so our faith should be the mouth and the belly. How the same should be received, it is already declared by the Jews, who, seeking salvation by righteousness of the law, and by works, therefore fell away from God, because they, being filled and stuffed up with other meats, have not eaten the flesh of the Son of Man; that is to say, because they did not believe upon his anointed. The same likewise will happen unto the Turks, whatsoever works they do work by the law; as unto us also there is none other way or mean of salvation appointed in any thing, than only by belief in Jesus Christ. There be many kinds of meat, but one only which bringeth forth eternal life; for the Jews have their meats which are unsavory letters, which they do yet gnaw upon. The Turks also have their unsavory meats, which are also gathered thereupon; which do nothing else but fill and stretch out the belly and bowels, and engender no lively juice; and we also, playing in a manner the Jews’ part, have our dishes filled with divers and sundry ceremonies, traditions, rites, superstitions, and works. This man trusteth much in long pilgrimages; another tarrieth at home, devoutly praying unto saints; another giveth much unto the high altar, and to building of churches; another getteth him a holy vesture, wherein he thinketh himself safe from all evil spirits. There be also some, who think to help themselves much, by often hearing of masses. How much confidence do many put in pardons bought, or in confession of their sins unto the priest! And-as these lets are gathered somewhere 629 else, than in the secret gardens of the Scripture; so were there other accidents more near unto the Scriptures than they, which, notwithstanding, for so much as they are nothing else but, as it were, the sauces of that one meat, they are very foolishly taken of many for the meat itself; as fasting, praying, watching, alms, and such other like works of charity, and of the law, which being used as sauces, have their sweet savor. For there is but only one meat which is effectual unto everlasting life, unto such as do eat it, which is the flesh of Christ Jesus; the eating whereof, if we will interpret the allegory, is our faith taking hold of Christ, which alone, without all help, doth only justify us. Where this faith is not present, it is sin, a filthy and vile thing, and a defiled cloth, whatsoever man’s holiness doth; and it is mere folly, whatsoever the wisdom of man taketh in hand, or goeth about. Finally, the unhappy hunger of the soul can by no other means be remedied or holpen, but only by this heavenly food, after that Christ came down from heaven, who was offered up for us by his death, pacifying all things. They were but vanities before, whatsoever man’s traditions did show unto us. There was great study and care had for good works, wherewithal every man labored to mitigate and assuage his hunger: but they were all vanities, whatsoever man’s power or the elements of this world did show unto us: the soul was wounded, and could not cure itself; it lacked another kind of medicine. The thirst was great, which might be remedied, but could not be satisfied; it might be watered or quenched with blood, otherwise it could not be assuaged with any liquor of man’s invention. Wherefore the Lord doth not unaptly call himself ‘meat,’ and his blood verily ‘drink:’ not that it is so in deed, according to the outward sense, but that under the covered sense of this sacrament, he might declare what our faith doth work upon him. Thou, peradventure, believest in Christ, and sayest that he is dead for thee; wilt thou then understand and know, what effect his death doth work in thee? Thou comest to this supper, and, first of all, the bread and the wine is set before thee, which doth pass into thy body. To what end is that done? To none other end, but only that they should nourish thee. Therefore art thou commanded to take and eat. But what wilt thou eat? Truly if there were none other thing meant in it, the matter were not of great importance. But forasmuch as the bare elements are not set afore thee, but under the name of the Lord’s body and blood, thou mayest well judge that there is some mystery contained herein, which may admonish or warn thee. But what mystery thinkest thou is contained therein? What other canst thou judge, than that thereby thou mayest behold and see, as it were in a seal, what the body and blood of our Lord, being shed for thee, doth work in thy soul? even the very same effect that the bread and the drink do work in the external body. Therefore do the bread and wine take the name of the body and blood, that by the one, the power and operation of the other may the better be understood and known: not that the same should be bread according to his substance which is the body of Christ; but that we, conferring the power and effect of both of them together, may be admonished and warned by the bread, whose memory it is, that we do celebrate by the bread. Wherefore the bread and Christ do wholly differ in the predicament of substance, while that they do understand the quality for the substance, and do not diligently seek out the power and mystery of his passion, only staying themselves upon his passion, and passing over to seek out the power and operation of his death, in which the whole principal point doth consist: in the other part there is not so great profit or benefit received by them, who either behold or handle the same. Let us also here allege the figures of the old law, and especially such as are compared unto memorials. The people of Israel, what time they were amongst the Egyptians, the same night that they should be delivered, were commanded to kill a lamb, which, without all doubt, did signify that Christ should come. But how? did it foreshow the same, according to any part of the substance? No, verily: for there is no man that will say that Christ was a lamb indeed, but according to certain qualities and properties of the same. Therefore were they commanded to take a young lamb, without any spot. What is more simple than a lamb? what is more pure than that which is without spot? and, finally, what can be more like unto Christ? And, contrariwise, according to the reason of the substance, what can be more unlike the same? Likewise may be said of the cow, with other sacrifices and oblations of the Jews, by which Christ was foreshowed by certain marks, very aptly, when, notwithstanding, their substance was greatly repugnant and contrary. Why do we then in these sacraments so greedily seek for the concordance of the substance, when it doth not greatly pertain unto the purpose? For the mystery doth not lie hid in the matter itself, but rather in more secret notes and marks of things, by which the bread and the body of Christ, the wine and his blood, are correspondent, the one unto the other, by a mutual analogy; which analogy, when the christian mind doth consider and weigh with himself, of necessity he doth thereby get a great confirmation and establishing of his faith, together with great consolation and comfort of his conscience; and, specially, unto such as be afflicted and troubled in spirit, and do labor, being heavy laden. For what can be more acceptable or more pleasant unto that heart, than, where he doth not only believe, but also seeth plainly set forth, as it were, before his eyes, his sins freely to be forgiven him; his long, great hunger to be satisfied, as it were at a banquet; and to be converted into all kind of fullness: all the tumults and vexations, which gnaw and trouble the mind, to be at quietness; all fear of damnation utterly to be avoided; and most firm and steadfast hope of salvation to be come in place; and that he shall now enjoy with his God most joyful peace and quietness? And that, not by reason of any of his own merits, neither by any works or labors achieved; not because he had fasted so long, or filled up so many bushels or measures with prayers; not by this or that kind of hurting or tormenting his body, or being clothed in this or that color, or being conversant in any kind of religion: but freely, through the only faith in Christ, who is made the redemption for our sins, that He alone might worthily be called the bread of our life. Otherwise, if there were any other help or preferment unto salvation but only Christ, then were not he the only bread of life: and, as this bread which came down from heaven is freely given unto us, so is it the only bread, neither doth it require any other food or sustentation; albeit that all other meats do require bread. Thus, christian reader, thou seest so great strength and power in this death and passion, which, albeit it be invisible, and cannot be perceived with our bodily senses (howsoever that it may be noted or figured out), yet the Lord could by no means more aptly or plainly set out unto us so secret a mystery, than by this kind of sensible sacrament. What is more familiar or common unto the world, than daily bread and drink, by the continual use whereof the life of man is restored and maintained? and what thing comes nearer to the declaration of this unspeakable mystery than they, if we do behold the power, strength, and properties thereof, and not the substance. Wherefore, not without great cause and deep consideration, the Lord himself did give unto us bread and wine, which we should receive for his body and blood; not for any necessity in the things themselves, but, by this means, providing for our dulness and slowness, which is accustomed to be led by none other means than by the outward senses and eyes; that thereby he might the more firmly establish our faith, and make our consolation and comfort in him the more full and certain. And whereupon now is this great frowardness sprung up amongst Christians, that they, envying their own so great felicity, that they now convert and turn that into a snare of their own destruction, which is given us by the Lord to be our only comfort and consolation? Amongst the Greeks, in times past, the celebrating of this communion was called ‘Eucharistia;’ in which, they received the benefit of salvation, and the Lord again received of them thanksgiving. But where is now this love, thanksgiving, and charity, become? when, for our salvation, received of the Lord, we destroy our brother, we shed his blood whom the Lord redeemed with his precious blood; and for none other occasion, but only for that which ought to teach us all kind of meekness and gentleness towards all men. I grant that the purity and sincerity of the doctrine is to be defended; but what kind of defense call you this, when men are first slain and put to death, and afterwards we seek out and discourse, in the synods, parliaments, universities, and schools, whether the matter and cause be true and certain or not? And the matter is yet before the Judge! David did not deserve to put to his hand or help to the building of the temple of God, because he came bloody out of so many battles and slaughters of men; albeit that they were most just battles, and that he took them not upon him without the prescribed commandment of God. Notwithstanding, the business was left wholly unto Solomon to be performed and finished, who succeeded his father in peace and quietness. So likewise let us feign the cause here to be just and true; let us grant that it cannot be proved that Christ’s words have any ambiguous sense. Notwithstanding, by mine opinion, it is greatly to be looked upon, and taken heed of, with what lenity and gentleness these christian princes, and these holy builders of the Lord’s temple, do execute and use their office; and it is diligently to be marked, lest that thing which is lawful in them, be not likewise allowed of the Lord. How many, before this man Peacock, and how many, since his death, have there been devoured and swallowed up by the bloody bishops! Yet do I not here discourse whether the cause were just and true or no. But admit it were most true, yet in mine opinion, it is greatly to be respected and regarded with what hands they do come to the building of the holy temple of God. Besides that, I will here pass over and speak nothing how unjust .and false their cause is. But now I return again unto Peacock, of whom, notwithstanding, I will not rehearse all things, for his injurious handling is long, and the circumstances thereof very long. I will only touch the principal points. When the articles were laid against him, and that they had charged this catholic bishop with the grievous and heinous name of heresy, they, by and by, made haste to give judgment. For these are the kinds of disputations which are now used amongst Christians: that if any controversy do rise in the church, or that there be any disputation about any ambiguous sense of the Scripture, straightway it is converted and turned into a matter of judgment; so that learning hath lost her liberty, the schools are changed into courts of judgment, where it is not looked for who shall vanquish or win, but whether of them shall live. Instead of the adversary, the judge sitteth; and, in place of the pen, the sword is drawn; which, for the most part, doth not fall upon him who is worst or most wicked, but upon the most inferior and weak; and this may be their liberty which is used in pleading, that, whereas before the face and eyes of the one, death is set; the other, although he be not overcome with reason, yet doth he vanquish and overcome by power. How much have we Christians gone astray in these days from the footsteps and examples of the ancient church! What more cruel time of heresies was there, than even in that age, when St Jerome did live? I will not here report with how grievous heresies the church was infected. Yet, notwithstanding, they were not driven unto this severity of judgment, if any did dissent or disagree from the residue: for them was no need of it. For why? the errors were so manifestly declared and tossed in the books of the doctors, in which the reader might quietly with himself judge, which was confirmable or agreeable in either part, and what contrariwise. How oftentimes doth St. Jerome, in equal and open contentions, provoke his adversaries to read over his writings, epistles, and apologies, as unto places abundantly discussing such matters; neither suffering his own liberties to be taken from him, neither taking away others.’ “I will not,” said he, “that he should answer me, who by power and might may oppress me, but teach me cannot.” Notwithstanding, he did no less prevail in this behalf, in seeking out the perils and dangers of opinions, but much more happily and fortunately satisfied also them who did contend; and confirmed and established the others who were in doubt. How little could Helvidias, Jovinianus, and Pelagius, prevail in sowing of their opinions and heresies, when that St. Jerome’s works, being so eloquently written, were once spread abroad, and read! What heresy was it so largely spread over all, which, as soon as St. Augustine’s works were once published, did not, by and by, keep silence, as though the voice or speech thereof had been utterly taken away; or, when St. Jerome began to shine in the church, who is no less to be feared in his books, than any judge sitting in the place of judgment. But now we have lost all those learned contentions; or, more truly to speak, we have lost such heads and rulers of the church as St. Augustine and St. Jerome were, who have knowledge and understanding to dispute with learning and eloquence. But, in their place, there is such posterity crept in, as which, with mere power and violence, do for the most part defend that, which they cannot judge or discern, when they are not able to accomplish the matter by learning. Yet notwithstanding learned men must now, will they, nil they, speak and answer to their unlearned law: or else let them learn, by the peril and danger of this man Peacock, to keep silence and hold their peace. For how do they vanquish or overcome him with learning, according to the example of their elders? Do they overthrow him with eloquence, or confound him with writing? do they subdue him with arguments, or subvert him by learning or judgment? or else do they, as St. Jerome saith, set foot to foot, conferring together, and bring to light the secret snares of errors? or do they convince them, when they are so made manifest, and violently take away the victory from the man, although he do never so much resist? Finally, they do either force him to silence, or put him to shame; so compassing him round about with snares and nets of reasons, that he dare not, not once, open his mouth against them; but also he cannot, though he would. And with such helps and means, they ought to proceed in such matters, if they were learned men. If they be not learned, why have they the rule in determining controversies in the church? why is the poor blind suffered to judge colors? If it were a false matter which Peacock did sustain, there was no doubt but that he might easily have been overcome, if any learned man had withstood him with apt and fit arguments, who, by the dexterity of learning, and by the force and power of the Scriptures, might have caused the truth and goodness of the matter to have had the upper hand; such as in our forefathers’ days were wont to root out errors. But now, it may thus be thought, that amongst them, either they lacked some fit champions to defend the truth, who might be equal unto him in doing the business; or else that their matters seemed very doubtful unto them, in which they durst not, in equal balance, contend and strive, but that they fly straightway to judgment, as unto their only fort and defense, where they do not contend with learning, but with threatenings and authority; wherewithal it is easy to vanquish and overcome even the most wise and learned men. When Peacock was brought before the judges and bishops, although he did nothing prevail, notwithstanding he declared many things worthy of a good divine, and armed himself with all kind of armor, both for the defense of his life and cause. They, on the contrary part, with like labor and pain, labored and travailed for their dignity and gain; and so much the more earnestly, because they had now gotten such an adversary, whose authority, the higher and greater it was in the church, they supposed it would bring the greater ruin and decay of their tyranny and estimation unto the people. They, fearing this, and the matter being as it were even now brought to hand-strokes, they thought good to use all kind of preparation and to show their power and strength, all that ever they might. Wherefore the most subtle and exquisite sophisters, philosophers, divines, and orators, were called for, besides centurions of lawyers, and decretists, whose use and help in these matters is greatly esteemed. First of all the matter was attempted with private colloquies, and, by and by after, a terrible form of judgment was appointed, threatening present death unto him. To these terrors often were adjoined threatening exhortations, and quarrellings, and oftentimes there lacked no flattering promises, as cups mingled with the venomous enchantment of Circe. And, finally, there is no stone left unturned; they entreat him; desire him; they earnestly lay upon him; they require him with fair means; they threaten him; they make him fair promises; they flatter him. Moreover they grant him a further time to consult and repent, whereby the delay of his death might make his life the sweeter unto him: they bid him speedily to foresee and look unto himself, affirming that there was yet great hope both of having his life and dignity, if he would recant and forsake his opinions.* After the death 630 of Henry Chichesley above mentioned, next succeeded John Stafford, A.D. 1443, who continued nearly nine years. After him came John Kemp, A.D. 1452, who sat but one year and a half. Then succeeded Thomas Burschere. In the time of which archbishop fell the trouble of Reynold Peacock, bishop of Chichester, afflicted by the pope’s prelates for his faith and profession of the gospel. Of this bishop,Hall also, in his Chronology, toucheth a little mention, declaring that an overthwart judgment, as he termeth it, was given by the fathers of the spiritualty against him. “This man,” saith he, “began to move questions not privately, but openly in the universities, concerning the Annates or Peter-pence, and other jurisdictions and authorities pertaining to the see of Rome; and not only put forth the questions, but declared his mind and opinion in the same: wherefore he was for this cause abjured at Paul’s Cross.” Thus much of him writeth Hall. Of whom also recordeth Polychronicon, but in few words. This bishop, first of St. Asaph, then of Chichester, so long as duke Humphrey lived, by whom he was promoted and much made of, was quiet and safe, and also bold to dispute and to write his mind, and wrote, as Leland recordeth, divers books and treatises. But after that good duke was thus, as ye have heard, made away, this good man, lacking his backstay, was open to his enemies, and matter soon found against him. Whereupon he being complained of, and accused by privy and malignant promoters unto the at bishop, letters first were directed down from the archbishop, to cite all men to appear that could say any thing against him. The form of which citation here ensueth. COPY OF THE CITATION SENT BY THOMAS BOWCHER, ALIAS BURSCHERE, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. Thomas, by the permission of God archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all England, and legate of the apostolic see, to all and singular parsons, vicars, chaplains, curates and not curates, clerks and learned men, whatsoever they be, constituted and ordained in any place throughout our province of Canterbury, health, grace, and benediction. We have received a grievous complaint of our reverend fellowbrother, Reynold Peacock bishop of Chichester, containing in it: that, albeit our said reverend fellow-brother, the bishop, delivered unto us certain books written by him in the English tongue, by us and our authority to be examined, corrected, reformed, and allowed: notwithstanding many (the examination and reformation of the said books depending and remaining before us undiscussed) have openly preached and taught at Paul’s Cross in London, and in divers other places of our province of Canterbury, that our said fellow-brother the bishop hath propounded, made, and written, or caused to be written, in the said books, certain conclusions repugnant to the true faith, and that he doth obstinately hold and defend the same; by the pretense of which preaching and teaching, the state and good name and fame of the lord Reynold the bishop, are grievously offended and hurt, and he and his opinions marvellously burdened. Wherefore we charge you all together, and severally apart do command you, firmly enjoining you, that openly and generally you do warn, or cause to be warned, all and singular such persons, who will object any thing contrary and against the conclusions of our said reverend fellow-brother the bishop, had or contained in his books or writings; that the twentieth day after such monition or warning had, they do freely, of their own accord, appear before us and our commissaries in this behalf appointed, wheresoever we shall then be, in our city, diocese, or province of Canterbury, to speak, propound, allege, and affirm fully and sufficiently in writing, whatsoever heretical or erroneous matter they will speak, propound, or object, against the said conclusions contained in his said books; and both to satisfy and receive, whatsoever shall seem meet and right in this behalf by the holy institution and ordinances. And forasmuch as this matter depending yet undetermined and undiscussed, nothing ought to be attempted or renewed, we charge you that, by this our authority, you inhibit and forbid all and every one so to preach and teach here-after. Unto whom also we, by the tenor of these presents, do likewise forbid, that, during the examination of the conclusions and books aforesaid, depending before us and our commissaries undiscussed, they do not presume by any means, without good advice and judgment, to preach, judge, and affirm, any thing to the prejudice or offense of the said lord Reynold the bishop: and if so be you do find any in this behalf gainsaying or not obeying this our inhibition, that you do cite or cause them peremptorily to be cited, to appear before us or our commissaries, in this behalf appointed, the tenth day after their citation, if it be a court day, or else the next court-day following, wheresoever we shall then be, in our city, diocese, or province of Canterbury, to make further declaration, by form of law, of the cause of their disobedience, and to receive such punishment as justice and equity shall determine in that behalf; and that by your letters you do duly certify us or our commissaries, what you have done in the premises, at the day and place aforesaid; or that he who hath so executed our commandment, do so certify us by his letters. Dated at our manor of Lambeth, the 22d day of October, A.D. 1457, and in the fourth year of our translation. This citation being directed, the bishop, upon the summons thereof, was brought, or rather came, before the judges and bishops unto Lambeth, where the aforesaid Thomas the archbishop, with his doctors and lawyers, were gathered together in the archbishop’s court; in which convention also, the duke of Buckingham was present, accompanied by the bishops of Rochester and Lincoln. What were the opinions and articles against him objected, afterwards, in his revocation, shall be specified. In his answering for himself, in such a company of the pope’s friends, albeit he could not prevail, notwithstanding he, stoutly defending himself, declared many things worthy great commendation of learning, if learning against power could have prevailed. But they, on the contrary part, with all labor and travail extended themselves, either to reduce him, or else to confound him. As here lacked no blustering words of terror and threatening, so also many fair flattering words and gentle persuasions were admixed withal. Briefly, to make a short narration of a long and busy traverse, here was no stone left unturned, no ways unproved, either by fair means to entreat him, or by terrible menaces to terrify his mind, till at length, he, being vanquished and overcome by the bishops, began to faint, and gave over. Whereupon, by and by, a recantation was put unto him by the bishops, which he should declare before the people. The copy of which his recantation here followeth. THE FORM AND MANNER OF THE RETRACTATION OF REYNOLD PEACOCK. In the name of God, Amen. Before you, the most reverend father in Christ and lord, the lord Thomas, by the grace of God archbishop of Canterbury, primate of England and legate of the apostolic see: I Reynold Peacock, unworthy, bishop of Chichester, do purely, willingly, simply, and absolutely confess and acknowledge, that I, in times past, that is to say, by the space of these twenty years last past and more, have otherwise conceived, holden, taught, and written, as touching the sacraments, and the articles of the faith, than the holy church of Rome, and universal church; and also that I have made, written, published, and set forth, many and divers pernicious doctrines, books, works, writings, heretics, contrary, to and against the true catholic and apostolic faith, containing in them errors contrary to the catholic faith, and especially these errors and heretics hereunder written. I. First of all, That we are not bound, by the necessity of faith, to believe that our Lord Jesus Christ, after his death, descended into hell. II. Item, That it is not necessary to salvation to believe in the holy catholic church. III. Item, That it is not necessary to salvation to believe the communion of saints. IV. Item, That it is not necessary to salvation to affirm the body materially in the Sacrament. V. Item, That the universal church may err in matters which pertain unto faith. VI. Item, That it is not necessary unto salvation to believe that that, which every general council doth universally ordain, approve, or determine, should necessarily, for the help of our faith, and the salvation of souls, be approved and holden of all faithful Christians. Wherefore I Reynold Peacock, wretched sinner, who have long walked in darkness, and now, by the merciful disposition and ordinance of God, am reduced and brought again unto the light and way of truth, and restored unto the unity of our holy mother the church, renounce and forsake all errors and heresies aforesaid. Notwithstanding, godly reader, it is not to be believed that Peacock did so give over these opinions, howsoever the words of the recantation pretend. For it is a policy and play of the bishops, that when they do subdue or overcome any man, they carry him whither they list, as it were a young steer by the nose, and frame out his words for him beforehand, as it were for a parrot, what he should speak unto the people; not according to his own will, but after their lust and fantasy. Neither is it to be doubted but that this bishop repented him afterwards of his recantation; which may easily be judged hereby, because he was committed again to prison, and detained,captive, where it is uncertain whether he was oppressed with privy and secret tyranny, and there obtained the crown of martyrdom, or no. The dictionary of Thomas Gascoigne I have not in my hands at present: but, if credit be to be given to such as have to us alleged the book, this we may find in the eighth century of John Bale, chapter 19; that the said Thomas Gascoigne, in the third part of his said dictionary, writing of Reynold Peacock, maketh declaration of his articles, containing in them matter of sore heresy. 3 First, saith he, Reynold Peacock, at Paul’s Cross, preached openly, that the office of a christian prelate, chiefly, above all other things, is to preach the word of God. That man’s reason is not to be preferred before the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament. That the use of the sacraments, as they be now handled, is worse than the use of the law of nature. That bishops who buy their admissions of the bishop of Rome, do sin. That no man is bound to believe and obey the determination of the church of Rome. Also that the riches of the bishops, by inheritance, are the goods of the poor. Item, that the apostles themselves, personally, were not the makers of the Creed; and that in the same Creed, once, was not the article, “He went down to hell.” Item, that of the four senses of the Scripture none is to be taken, but the very first and proper sense. Also, that he gave little estimation, in some points, to the authority of the old doctors. Item, that he condemned the wilful begging of the friars, as a thing idle and needless. This out of Thomas Gascoigne. Leland also, adding this moreover, saith, that he, not contented to follow the catholic sentence of the church, in interpreting of the Scripture, did not think soundly (as he judged it) of the holy Eucharist. At length, for these and such other articles, the said Reynold Peacock was condemned for a heretic, by the archbishops and by the bishops of Rochester, Lincoln, and Winchester, with other divines more. Whereupon he, being driven to his recantation, was notwithstanding detained still in prison; where some say, that he was privily made away by death. Hall addeth, that some say his opinions to be, that spiritual persons, by God’s law, ought to have no temporal possessions. Others write, that he said, that personal tithes were not due by God’s law. But whatsoever the cause was, he was caused at Paul’s Cross to abjure, and all his books burned, and he himself kept in his own house during his natural life. I marvel that Polydore, of this extremity of the bishop’s handling, and of his articles, in his history maketh no memorial. Belike it made but little for the honesty of his great master the pope. From persecution and burning in England, now out of the way to digress a little, to speak of foreign matters of the church of Rome: you remember before, in the latter end of the council of Basil, how Eugene was deposed. * The 4 Germans at that time 631 were so divided, that some of them did hold with Felix, and the council of Basil; others with Eugene and the council of Ferrara; and some with neither. It happened also, at the same time, A.D. 1444, that the dauphin of France, set on, as it is supposed by some, by the same Eugene, leading an army of twenty-five thousand men into Alsace, laid siege unto Basil to disturb the council, having, there, a great conflict with the Germans, not without great slaughter on both sides; whereby the council could no longer be kept in Germany for the power of pope Eugene and his adherents, but only in France, through the pragmatical sanction of the French king. At length Eugene brought to pass, partly through the help of Frederic (being not yet emperor, but laboring for the empire), partly by his orators, in the number of whom was Aeneas Sylvius above mentioned, amongst the Germans, that they were content to give over, both the council of Basil, and the neutrality.* Of the conditions and martial affairs of Eugene, how he made war against Sfortia, a famous captain of Italy, and what other wars he raised besides, not only in Italy, but also in Germany, against the city and council of Basil, I shall not need to make any long rehearsal. After his deposition ye heard also how Felix, duke of Savoy, was elected pope. Whereupon another great schism followed in the church during all the life of Eugene. After his death, his next successor was pope Nicholas V., who, as you before have heard, brought so to pass with the emperor Frederic III., that Felix was contented to renounce and resign his papacy to Nicholas, and was therefore of him afterwards received to the room of cardinal for his submission; and Frederic, for his working, was confirmed at Rome to be full emperor, and there crowned, A.D. 1451. For emperors, before they be confirmed and crowned by the pope, are no emperors, but only called kings of Romans. This pope Nicholas here mentioned, to get and gather great sums of money, appointed a jubilee A.D. 1450, at which time there resorted a greater number of people unto Rome, than hath at any time before been seen. At which time we read in the story of Platina that to have happened, which I thought here not unworthy to be noted for the example of the thing 5 As there was a great concourse of people resorting up to the mount Vatican to behold the image of our Savior, which there they had to show to pilgrims, the people being thick going to and fro between the mount and the city, by chance a certain mule, belonging to the cardinal of St. Mark, came by the way, by reason whereof the people not being able to avoid the way, one or two falling upon the mule, there was such a press and throng upon that occasion on the bridge, that to the number of two hundred bodies of men, and three horses were there strangled, and on each side of the bridge many besides fell over into the water, and were drowned. By means of which occasion the pope afterwards caused the small houses to be plucked down, to make the way broader. And this is the fruit that cometh by idolatry. In the time of this pope one Mattheus Palmerius wrote a book ‘De Angelis,’ for defending whereof he was condemned by the pope, and burned at Corna, A.D. 1448. After Nicholas V. succeeded Calixtus III., who, amongst divers other things, ordained, both at noon and at evening the bell to toll the aves, as it was used in the popish time, to help the soldiers that fought against the Turks; for which cause, also, he ordained the feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, solemnizing it with like pardons and indulgences, as was Corpus Christi day. Also this pope, proceeding contrary to the councils of Constance and Basil, decreed that no man should appeal from the pope to any council. By him also St. Edmund of Canterbury, with divers others, were made saints. Next after this Calixtus succeeded Plus II., otherwise called Aeneas Sylvius, who wrote the two books of commentaries upon the council of Basil before mentioned. This Aeneas, at the time of the writing of those his books, seemed to be a man of an indifferent and tolerable judgment and doctrine, from which he afterwards, being pope, seemed to decline and swerve, seeking by all means possible how to deface and abolish the books which heretofore he had written. SENTENCES OR PROVERBS ATTRIBUTED UNTO THIS POPE PIUS II. The divine nature of God may rather be comprehended by faith, than by disputation. Christian faith is to be considered, not by what reason it is proved, but from whom it proceedeth. Neither can a covetous man be satisfied with money, nor a learned man with knowledge. Learning ought to be to poor men instead of silver, to noblemen instead of gold, and to princes, instead of precious stones. An artifical oration moveth fools, but not wise men. Suitors in the law be as birds: the court is the bait; the judges be the nets and the lawyers be the fowlers. Men are to be given to dignities, and not dignities to men. The office of a bishop is heavy, but it is blessed to him that doth well bear it. A bishop without learning may be likened to an ass. An evil physician destroyeth bodies, but an unlearned priest destroyeth souls. Marriage was taken from priests not without great reason; but with much greater reason it ought to be restored again. The like sentence to this last, he uttereth in his second book of the Council of Basil before specified, saying, “Peradventure it were not the worst, that the most part of priests had their wives, for many should be saved in priestly marriage, who now, in unmarried priesthood, are damned.” The same Pius also, as Celius reporteth, dissolved certain orders of nuns, of the orders of St. Bridget and St. Clare, bidding them to depart out, that they should burn no more, nor cover a harlot under the vesture of religion. This Pius, if he had brought as much piety and godliness as he brought learning unto his popedom; had excelled many popes that went before him. It shall not be impertinent here to touch, what the said Aeneas, called Pius the Pope, writeth touching the peace of the church, unto Gasper Schlick, the emperor’s chancellor, in his 54th epistle. A LETTER OF POPE PIUS, TOUCHING THE PEACE OF THE CHURCH All men do abhor and detest schism. The way to remedy this evil Charles, the French king, hath showed us both safe and brief; which is, that princes or their orators should convent and assemble together in some common place, where they may conclude upon matters amongst themselves. To bring this to it were needful for writings to be sent again to all kings and princes, to send their orators to Strasburg, or to Constance, with their full authority, there to treat of matters appertaining to the peace of the church. Neither would it require so great expenses; forasmuch as we see the year before three hundred gilders to be sufficient. Constantine, the emperor, bestowed not much more in the congregation of the council of Nice. And this way could not be stopped; neither could the pope or the council withstand it, or make excuse, as though this might not easily be done without them. For why? The secular princes may convent and assemble together, will they, nill they; and yet notwithstanding unity may there be concluded; for he should be an undoubted pope, whom all princes would obey. Neither do I see any of the clergy so constant to death, who will suffer martyrdom either for the one part or the other. 8 All we lightly hold that faith which our princes hold; which if they would worship idols, we would also do the same, and deny not only the pope, but God also, if the secular power strain us thereunto, for charity is waxed cold, and all faith is gone. Howsoever it be, let us all desire and seek for peace; which peace, whether it come by a council, or by assembly of princes, call it what you will, I care not, for we stand not upon the term, but upon the matter. Call bread, if you will, a stone, so you give it me to assuage my hunger. Whether you call it a council, or a conventicle, or an assembly, or a congregation, or a synagogue, that is no matter, so that schism may be excluded, and peace established. Thus much out of the epistle of Pius. Thus again it may appear, of what sentence and mind this Pius was in the time of the council of Basil, before he was made pope. 9 For, as our common proverb saith, “Honors change manners;” so it happened with this Pius, who, after he came once to be pope, was much altered from what he was before. For when before, he preferred general councils before the pope, now, being pope, he did decree that no man should appeal from the high bishop of Rome to any general council. And likewise for priests’ marriage, whereas before he thought it best to have their wives restored, yet afterwards he altered his mind otherwise, insomuch that in his book treating of Germany, and there speaking of the noble city of Augsburg, by occasion he inveighed against a certain epistle of Huldericke, once bishop of the said city, written against the constitution of the single life of priests: whereby it appeareth how the mind of this Pius was altered from that it was before. 10 This epistle of Huldericke is before expressed at large. Here also might I touch something concerning the discord betwixt this Aeneas Sylvius and Diether, archbishop of Mentz, and what discord was stirred up in Germany upon the same between Frederic palatine of the Rhine, and the duke of Wirtemberg, with others; by the occasion whereof, besides the slaughter of many, the city of Mentz, which was free before, lost her freedom and became servile. The causes of the discord betwixt pope Pius and Diether were these:— First, Because that Diether would not consent unto him in the imposition of certain tallages and taxes within his country. Secondly, For that Diether would not be bound unto him, requiring that the said Diether, being princeelector, should not call the other electors together without his license, that is, without the license of the bishop of Rome. And thirdly, Because Diether would not permit to the pope’s legates, to convocate his clergy together after their own lust. This pope Pius began his see about A.D. 1458. After this Pius II. succeeded Paul II., 633 a pope wholly set upon his belly and ambition, and not so much void of all learning, as the hater of all learned men. This Paul, who had a daughter begotten in fornication, because he saw her on that account to be had in reproach, began (as the stories report) to repent him of the law of the single life of priests, and went about to reform the same, had not death prevented him. After this Paul, came Sixtus IV., who builded up in Rome stews 634 of both kinds, getting thereby no small revenues and rents unto the church of Rome. 13 This pope, amongst his other acts, reduced the year of Jubilee from the fiftieth unto the twenty-fifth. He also instituted the feast of the Conception, and the Preservation of Mary and Anna her mother and Joseph. Also he canonized Bonaventure and St. Francis for saints. By this Sixtus also were beads brought in, and instituted to make our Lady’s Psalter, through the occasion of one Alanus and his order, whom Baptista maketh mention of in this verse: “Hi filo insertis numerant sua murmara baccis;” that is, “These men, putting their beads upon a string, number their prayers.” This Sixtus the pope made two and thirty cardinals in his time, of whom Petrus Ruerius was the first, who, for the time that he was cardinal, which was but two years, spent in luxurious riot, wasted and consumed, two hundred thousand florins, and was left sixty thousand in debt. Wesellus Groningensis, in a certain treatise of his, ‘De Indulgentiis Papalibus,’ writing of this pope Sixtus, reporteth this, That at the request of the aforesaid Peter, cardinal, and of Jerome, his brother, the said pope Sixtus permitted and granted unto the whole family of the cardinal of St. Lucy, in the three hot months of summer, June, July, and August, a thing too horrible to be spoken; with this clause, “Fiat ut petitur; that is, “Be it as it is asked.” Next after this Sixtus, came Innocent VIII., 635 as rude, and as far from all learning, as his predecessor was before him. Amongst the noble facts of this pope, 636 14 this was one, that in the town of Polus apud Equicolos, he caused eight men and six women, with the lord of the place, to be apprehended and taken, and judged for heretics, because that they said none of them was the vicar of Christ who come after Peter, but they only who followed the poverty of Christ. Also he , condemned of heresy, George, the king of Bohemia, and deprived him of his dignity, and also of his kingdom, and procured his whole stock to be utterly rejected and put down, giving his kingdom to Matthias, king of Pannonia. Now from the popes to descend to other estates, it remaineth likewise somewhat to write of the emperors incident to this time, with matters and grievances of the Germans, and also other princes, first beginning with our troubles and mutations here at home, pertaining to the overthrow of this king Henry and his seat, now following to be showed. And briefly to contract long process of much tumult and business into a short narration, here is to be remembered, which partly before was signified, how, after the death of the duke of Gloucester, mischiefs came in by heaps upon the king and his realm. For, after the giving away of Anjou and Maine to the Frenchmen, by the unfortunate marriage of queen Margaret abovementioned, the said Frenchmen, perceiving now by the death of the duke of Gloucester, the stay and pillar of this commonwealth to be decayed, and seeing, moreover, the hearts of the nobility amongst themselves to be divided, foreslacked no time, having such an open way into Normandy, that in short time they recovered the same, and also got Gascony, so that no more now remained to England of all the parts beyond the sea, but only Calais. Neither yet did all the calamity of the realm only rest in this: for the king, now having lost his friendly uncle, as the stay and staff of his age, who had brought him up so faithfully from his youth, was now thereby the more open to his enemies, and they more emboldened to set upon him; as appeared first by Jack Cade, the Kentish captain, who, encamping first on Black-heath, afterwards aspired to London, and had the spoil thereof, the king being driven into Warwickshire. After the suppression of Cade, ensued not long after the duke of York, who, being accompanied with three earls, set upon the king near to St. Alban’s, where the king was taken in the field captive, and the duke of York was by parliament declared protector; which was A.D. 1454. 638 After this followed long division and mortal war between the two houses of Lancaster and York, continuing many years. At length about A.D. 1460, the duke of York was slain in battle by the queen, near to the town of Wakefield, and with him also his son, the earl of Rutland; by which queen also, shortly after, in the same year, were discomfited the earl of Warwick, and the duke of Norfolk, to whom the keeping of the king was committed by the duke of York; and so the queen again delivered her husband. After this victory obtained, the northern men, advanced not a little in pride and courage, began to take upon then’, great attempts, not only to spoil and rob churches, and religious houses, and villages, but also were fully intended, partly by themselves, partly by the inducement of their lords and captains, to sack, waste, and utterly to subvert the city of London, and to take the spoil thereof; and no doubt (saith my history 15 ) would have proceeded in their conceived greedy intent, had not the opportune favor of God provided a speedy remedy. For, as these mischiefs were in brewing, suddenly cometh the noble prince Edward unto London with a mighty army, the 27th day of February, who was the son and heir to the duke of York above-mentioned, accompanied with the carl of Warwick, and divers more. King Henry, in the mean time, with his victory, went up to York; when Edward, being at London, caused there to be proclaimed certain articles concerning his title to the crown of England, which was the second day of March. Whereupon the next day following, the lords both temporal and spiritual being assembled together, the said articles were propounded, and also well approved. The 4th day of the said month of March, A.D. 1461, after a solemn general procession (according to the blind superstition of those days) the bishop of Exeter made a sermon at Paul’s Cross, wherein he commended and proved, by manifold evidences, the title of prince Edward to be just and lawful, answering in the same to all objections which might be made to the contrary. This matter being thus discussed, prince Edward, accompanied with the lords spiritual and temporal, and with much concourse of people, rode the same day to Westminster Hall, and there, by the full consent, as well of the lords, as also by the voice of all the commons, took his possession of the crown, and was called king Edward the Fourth. These things thus accomplished at London, as to such a matter appertained, and preparation of money sufficiently being ministered of the people and commons, with most ready and willing minds, for the necessary furniture of his wars; he, with the duke of Norfolk, and the earl of Warwick, and lord Fauconbridge, in all speedy wise took his journey toward king Henry, who, now being at York, and forsaken of the Londoners, had all his refuge only reposed in the northern men. When king Edward with his army had passed over the river Trent, and was come near to Ferrybridge, where also the host of king Henry was not far off, upon Palm Sunday, between Ferrybridge and Tadcaster, both the armies of the southern and northern men joined together in battle. And although, at the first beginning, divers horsemen of king Edward’s side turned their backs, and spoiled the king of carriage and victuals, yet the courageous prince with his captains, little discouraged therewith, fiercely and manfully set on their adversaries: which battle on both sides was so cruelly fought, that in the same conflict were slain to the number, as is reported, of thirty thousand of the poor commons, beside men of name. Notwithstanding, the conquest fell on king Edward’s part, so that king Henry having lost all, was forced to flee into Scotland, where also he gave up to the Scots the town of Borwick, after he had reigned eight and thirty years and a half. The claim and title of the duke of York, and after him of Edward his son, put up to the lords and commons, whereby they challenged the crown to the house of York, is thus, in the story of Scala Mundi, word for word, as hereunder is contained. THE TITLE OF THE HOUSE OF YORK TO THE CROWN OF ENGLAND. Edward the Third, right king of England, had issue, first, prince Edward: secondly, William Hatfield: thirdly, Lionel: fourthly, John of Gaunt, etc. Prince Edward had Richard the Second, which died without issue. William Hatfield died without issue. Lionel, duke of Clarence, had issue lawfully begot, Philippa, his only daughter and heir; the which was lawfully coupled to Edmund Mortimer, earl of March, and had issue lawfully begot, Roger Mortimer, earl of March, and heir; which Roger had issue, Edmund earl of March, Roger, Anne, and Alienor: Edmund and Alienor died without issue, and the said Anne, by lawful matrimony was coupled unto Richard earl of Cambridge, the son of Edmund of Langley, who had issue and lawfully bare Richard Plantagenet, now duke of York. John of Gaunt gat Henry, who unrightfully entreated king Richard, then being alive Edmund Mortimer earl of March, son of the said Philippa, daughter to Lionel. To the which Richard, duke of York and son to Anne, daughter to Roger Mortimer earl of March, son and heir to the said Philippa, daughter and heir to the said Lionel, the third son of king Edward the Third, the right and dignity of the crown appertained and belonged, afore any issue of the said John of Gaunt. Notwithstanding the said title of dignity of the said Richard of York, the said Richard desiring the wealth, rest, and prosperity of England, agreeth and consenteth that king Henry the Sixth should be had and taken for king of England during his natural life from this time, without hurt of his title. Wherefore the king, understanding the said title of the said duke to be just, lawful, true, and sufficient, by the advice and assent of the lords spiritual and temporal, and the commons in the parliament, and by the authority of the same parliament, declareth, approveth, ratifieth, confirmeth, and accepteth the said title for just, good, lawful and true; and thereto giveth his assent and agreement of his free will and liberty. And over that, by the said advice and authority declareth, calleth, stablisheth, affirmeth, and reputeth the said Richard of York very true and rightful heir to the crown of England and France; and that all other statutes and acts made by any of the late Henries, contrary to this advice, be annulled, repelled, damned, cancelled, void, and of no force or effect. The king agreed and consented that the said duke and his heirs shall after his natural life enjoy the crown, etc. Also, that all sayings and doings against the duke of York, shall be high treason, and all acts of parliaments contrary to this principal act be void and of none effect, etc. And thus much for the reign of king Henry VI., who now lacked his uncle and protector, duke of Gloucester, about him. But commonly the lack of such friends is never felt before they be missed. In the time of this king was builded the house in London, called Leadenhall, founded by one Simon Eyre, mayor once of the said city of London, A.D. 1445. Also the standard in Cheap, builded by John Wells, A.D. 1442; the conduit in Fleet-street, by William Eastfield, A.D. 1488: item, Newgate, builded by the goods of Richard Whittington, A.D. 1422. Moreover the said Henry VI. founded the college of Eton, and another house, having then the title of St. Nicholas, in Cambridge, now called King’s College. In the reign of this Henry VI, it is not to be passed over in silence, which we find noted in the parliament rolls, how that Lewis, archbishop of Rouen, after the death of the late bishop of Ely, had granted unto him by the pope’s bulls, during his life, all the profits of the said bishopric, by the name of the administrator of the said bishopric. Lewis, the aforesaid archbishop, showed his bulls to the king, who utterly rejected his bulls. Notwithstanding, for his service done in France, the king granted to him the administration aforesaid, which, to all intents, at the petition of the said Lewis, should be affirmed to be of as great force as though he were bishop, touching profits, liberties, and hability. Neither again is here to be overpast a certain tragical act done between Easter and Whitsuntide of a false Briton, A.D. 1427, who murdered a good widow in her bed (who had brought him up of alms, without Aldgate in the suburbs of London) and bare away all that she had, and afterwards he took succor of holy church at St. George’s in Southwark; but at last he took the cross, and forswore the king’s land. 18 And as he went his way, it happened him to come by the same place where he had done that cursed deed; and women of the same parish came out with stones and channeldung, and there made an end of him in the High-street, so that he went no further, notwithstanding the constables and other men also, who had him under governance to conduct him forward; for there was a great company of them, so that they were not able to withstand them. EDWARD THE FOURTH. KING EDWARD, after his conquest and victory achieved against king Henry, returned again to London, where, upon the vigil of St. Peter and Paul, being on a Sunday, he was crowned king of England, and reigned twenty-two years, albeit not without great disquietness, and much perturbation in his reign. Queen Margaret, hearing how her husband was fled into Scotland, was also fain to flee the land, and went to her father, duke of Anjou; from whence, the next year following, she returned again, to renew war against king Edward, with small succor and less luck. For being encountered by the earl of Warwick, about November, she was driven to the seas again, and by tempest of weather was driven into Scotland. In this year we read that king Edward, in the cause of a certain widow for rape, sat in his own person in Westminster-hall, upon his own bench, discussing her cause. The year following, king Henry, issuing out of Scotland with a sufficient power of Scots and Frenchmen, came into the north country to recover the crown, unto whom the lord Radulph Percy, and lord Radulph Gray flying from king Edward, did adjoin themselves: but the Lord so disposing, king Henry with his power was repulsed in battle at Exham by the lord Mountecute, having then the rule of the north; where the duke of Somerset, lord Hungerford, lord Ross, with certain others were taken. The lord Radulph Percy was slain, the residue fled. Albeit the history of ‘Scala Mundi’ referreth this battle to the year 1464, the 15th day of May: in which month of May were beheaded the duke of Somerset, lord Hungerford, lord Ross, lord Philip Wentworth, lord Thomas Hussy, lord Thomas Findern, besides twenty-one others belonging to the retinue and household of King Henry VI. Queen Margaret, finding no resting place here in England, took her progress again from whence she came, learning in her own country to drink that drink, which she herself had brewed here in England. And not long after, the next year, A.D. 1465, on the day of St. Peter and Paul, king Henry being found and known in a wood by one Cantlow (as they say), was arrested by the earl of Warwick, and at last, of a king made prisoner in the Tower of London. In this mean time, king Edward after the motion of marriage for him being made, and first the lady Margaret, sister to James IV., king of Scots, thought upon, but that motion taking no effect, afterwards the lady Elizabeth, sister to Henry king of Castile, was intended; but she being under age, the earl of Warwick turning then his legation and voyage to the French king, Louis XI., to obtain lady Bona, daughter of the duke of Savoy, and sister to Charlotte the French queen, and having obtained the same, had cast favor upon one Elizabeth Grey, widow of sir John Grey, knight, slain before in the battle of St. Alban’s, daughter to the duchess of Bedford, and lord Rivers; and first went about to have her to his concubine. But she, as being unworthy (as she said) to be the wife of such a high personage, so thinking herself too good to be his concubine, in such sort won the king’s heart, that incontinent, before the return of the earl of Warwick, he married her; at which marriage were no more than only the duchess of Bedford, two gentlewomen, the priest, and the clerk. Upon this so hasty and unlucky marriage ensued no little trouble to the king, much bloodshed to the realm, undoing almost to all her kindred, and finally confusion to king Edward’s two sons, who both were declared afterwards to be bastards, and also deprived of their lives. For the earl of Warwick, who had been the faithful friend and chief maintainer before of the king, at the hearing of this marriage, was therewith so grievously moved and chafed in his mind, that he never after sought any thing more, than how to work displeasure to the king, and to put him beside his cushion. And, although for a time he dissembled his wrathful mood, till he might spy a time convenient, and a world to set forward his purpose, at last, finding occasion somewhat serving to his mind, he breaketh his heart to his two brethren, to wit, the marquis Mountecute, and the archbishop of York, conspiring with them how to bring his purpose about. Then thought he also to prove afar off the mind of the duke of Clarence, king Edward’s brother, and likewise obtained him, giving also to him his daughter in marriage. This matter being thus prepared against the king, the first flame of his conspiracy began to appear in the north country. Where the northern men, in short space gathering themselves in open rebellion, and finding captains of their wicked purpose, came down from York toward London. Against whom was appointed by the king, William lord Herbert, earl of Pembroke, with the lord Stafford, and certain other captains, to encounter. The Yorkshire men, giving the overthrow first to the lord Stafford, then to the earl of Pembroke, and his company of Welchmen at Banbury field, at last, joining together with the army of the earl of Warwick, and the duke of Clarence, in the dead of the night secretly stealing on the king’s field at Wolney by Warwick, killed the watch, and took the king prisoner, who first being in the castle of Warwick, then was conveyed by night to Middleham castle in Yorkshire, under the custody of the archbishop of York, where he, having loose keeping, and liberty to go on hunting, meeting with sir William Stanley, sir Thomas of Borough, and other his friends, was too good for his keepers, and escaped the hands of his enemies, and so came to York, where he was well received; from thence to Lancaster, where he met with the lord Hastings, his chamberlain, well accompanied; by whose help he came safe to London. After this tumult, when reconciliation could not come to perfect peace and unity, although much labor was made by the nobility, the earl of Warwick raiseth up a new war in Lincolnshire, the captain .whereof was sir Robert Wells, knight, who shortly after, being taken in battle with his father, and sir Thomas Dunocke, were beheaded. The residue casting away their coats, ran away and fled, giving the name of the field, called Loose-coat-field. The earl of Warwick after this, put out of comfort and hope to prevail at home, fled out of England, .A.D. 1470, first to Calais, then to Louis, the French king, accompanied with the duke of Clarence. The fame of the earl of Warwick and of his famous acts was at that time in great admiration above measure, and so highly favored, that both in England and France all men were glad to behold his personage. Wherefore the coming of this earl, and of the duke of Clarence, was not a little grateful to the French king, and no less opportune to queen Margaret, king Henry’s wife, and prince Edward her son, who also came to the French court to meet and confer together touching their affairs, where a league between them was concluded; and, moreover, a marriage between Edward prince of Wales, and Anne, the second daughter of the earl of Warwick, was wrought. Thus all things falling luckily upon the earl’s part, besides the large offers and great promises made by the French king, in the best manner to set forward their purpose; the earl having also intelligence by letters, that the hearts almost of all men went with him, and longed sorely for his presence, so that there lacked now but only haste, with all speed possible to return; he, with the duke of Clarence, well fortified with the French navy, set forward toward England: for so was it between them before decreed, that they two should prove the first venture, and then queen Margaret, with prince Edward her son, should follow after. The arrival of the earl was no sooner heard of at Dartmouth in Devonshire, than great concourse of people, by thousands, went to him from all quarters to receive and welcome him; who immediately made proclamation, in the name of king Henry the Sixth, charging all men, able to bear armor, to prepare themselves to fight against Edward duke of York, usurper of the crown. Here lacked no friends, strength of men, furniture, nor policy convenient for such a matter. When king Edward (who before not passing for the matter, nor seeking how either to have stopped his landing, or else straightways to have encountered with him, before the gathering of his friends, but passing forth the time in hunting, in hawking, in all pleasure and dalliance) had knowledge what great resort of multitudes incessantly repaired more and more daily about the earl and the duke, he began now to provide for remedy, when it was too late; who, trusting too much to his friends and fortune before, did now right well perceive what a variable and inconstant thing the people is, and especially here of England, whose nature is never to be content long with the present state, but always delighting in news, seeketh new variety of changes, either envying that which standeth, or else pitying that which is fallen. Which inconstant mutability of the light people, changing with the wind, and wavering with the reed, did well appear in the course of this king’s story. For he, through the means of the people when he was down, was exalted; now being exalted, of the same was forsaken. Whereby this is to be noted of all princes, that as there is nothing in this mutable world firm and stable; so there is no trust nor assurance to be made, but only in the favor of God, and in the promises of his word, only in Christ his Son, whose kingdom only shall never have an end, nor is subject to any mutation. These things thus passing on in England on the earl’s side against king Edward, he, accompanied with the duke of Gloucester his brother, and the lord Hastings, who had married the earl of Warwick’s sister, and yet was never untrue to the king his master, and the lord Scales, brother to the queen, sent abroad to all his trusty friends for furniture of able soldiers, for defense of his person, to withstand his enemies. When little rescue and few in effect would come, the king himself, so destitute, departed to Lincolnshire, where he, perceiving his enemies daily to increase upon him, and all the countries about to be in a roar, making fires, and singing songs, crying, “King Henry, king Henry,” “a Warwick, a Warwick,” and hearing moreover his enemies, the Lancastrians, to be within half a day’s journey of him, was advised by his friends to flee over the sea to the duke of Burgundy, who not long before had married king Edward’s sister. Here, peradventure, might be thought, by the common judgment and policy of man, that king Edward, as he had in his hands the lives of king Henry, his queen, and his prince, so if he had dispatched them out of the way when he might, he had not fallen into this misery: but because he took not the vantage, which time rather than godly reason gave him, therefore that sparing pity of his, turned now to is confusion and ruin. And, certes, I suppose no less, but if the same case had fallen in these our pitiless days, in which charity now waxeth utterly cold, and humanity is almost forgotten, the occasion of such a time should not be so neglected. But let us here note and learn, how godly simplicity always, in the end of things, gaineth more than man’s policy, forasmuch as man worketh with the one, but God worketh with the other. And so far is it off, that the event and success of things be governed by man’s advised policy, or unadvised affection in this world, that that is judged to be weaker which flourisheth in man, than that which is cast down in the Lord; as in the double case of both these kings may well appear. And first, let us consider the case of king Edward, who, being so beset and compassed with evils and distresses on every side, first was compelled to take the Washes between Lincolnshire and Lynn, which was no less dangerous to his life, than it was unseemly for his estate. Being come to Lynn, in what peril was he there, through the doubtful mutability of the townsmen, if he had been known to his enemies? and how could he but be known, if he had tarried any space? But, though men and friends forsook him, yet the mercy of God, not forsaking the life of him who showed mercy unto others, so provided, that at the same present there was an English ship, and two hulks of Holland, ready to their journey. Thus king Edward, without provision, without bag or baggage, without cloth-sack or mail, without store of money, without raiment, save only apparel for war; also without all friends, except only his brother the duke of Gloucester, the lord Scales, and lord Hastings, with a few other trusty friends, to the number of seven or eight hundred persons, took shipping towards Holland; at which time he was in no less jeopardy almost on the sea, than he was on the land. For certain Easterlings, having many ships of war, which lay roving the same time on the sea, and had done much damage the year before, as well to the English merchants as to the French nation, spying the king’s ship, with seven or eight gallant ships made sail after the king and his company. The king’s ship was good of sail, and got some ground, albeit not much, of the Easterlings, that she came to the coast of Holland before Alckmaer, and there cast anchor: for otherwise, being an ebbing-water, they could not enter the haven. The Easterlings with their great ships approached as near as they could possibly come for the low water, purposing at the flood to obtain their prey; and so were like to do, if the Lord had not there also provided Mounsieur de Grounture, governor for duke Charles in Holland, at that season to be personally present in the town of Alckmaer, who, hearing of the jeopardy of the king being there at anchor, prohibited the Easterlings, on pain of death, to meddle with any Englishmen who were the duke’s friends and allies. Thus king Edward, well chastised of God for his wantonness, both by sea and land, but not utterly given over from his protection, escaping so many hard chances, was set on land with his company; who, there well refreshed, and newly apparelled, were conducted to the Hague. Duke Charles, at the hearing of the unprosperous case and condition of king Edward, his brother-in-law, was greatly amazed and perplexed in himself, much casting and doubting what he should do. For being then at war with the French king, he could not well provoke the English nation against him, without his manifest grievance and decay; neither yet could he, without great shame and obloquy, leave the king his brother in that necessity. Notwithstanding, so he demeaned himself through fair speech, pretending to the Englishmen to join part with the house of Lancaster, being himself partly descended of the same family by his grandmother s side; that he both was his own friend openly, and the king’s friend covertly, pretending that he did not, and doing that he pretended not. When tidings were spread in England of king Edward’s flying, innumerable people on all hands resorted to the earl of Warwick, to take his part against king Edward, a few only excepted of his constant friends, who took sanctuary. Amongst whom was also Elizabeth his wife, who, desperate almost of all comfort, took also sanctuary at Westminster, where she, in great penury forsaken, was delivered of a fair son called Edward, that without all pomp was baptized like another poor woman’s child, the godfathers being the abbot and prior of Westminster; the godmother was the lady Scroope. To make the story short, the earl of Warwick, having now brought all things to his appetite, upon the twelfth day of October rode to the Tower, which was then delivered to him, and there took king Henry out of the ward, and placed him in the king’s lodging. The 25th day of the same month, the duke of Clarence, accompanied with the earls of Warwick, Shrewsbury, and the lord Stanley, with a great company, brought him, in a long gown of blue velvet, through the high streets of London, first to Paul’s church to offer, then to the palace of the bishop of London, and there he resumed again the crown royal, A.D. 1470, 639 which he did not long enjoy. After this followed a parliament, in which king Edward with all his partakers were judged traitors. Queen Margaret with her son prince Edward, all this while were tarrying for a fair wind, thinking long, belike, till she came to an evil bargain, as it proved after. For king Edward, within six months after his departure out of England unto the duke of Burgundy, whether solicited by letters from his friends, or whether by his adventurous courage incited, made instant suit to duke Charles his brother, to rescue him with such power as he would bestow upon him: for he was fully resolved to defer the matter, and to protract the time, no longer. The duke, damped in double fear in such a dangerous case, notwithstanding overcome by nature and affinity, secretly caused to be delivered to him fifty thousand florins, and further caused four great ships to be appointed for him in a haven in Zealand, where it was free for all men to come. Also the same duke had for him hired fourteen ships of the Easterlings well appointed, taking bond of them to serve him truly till he were landed in England, and fifteen days after. Thus king Edward, being furnished but only with two thousand men of war, with more luck than hope to speed, sped his voyage into England, and landed at Ravenspur, on the coast of Yorkshire. Although there was no way for the king with such a small company of soldiers to do any good, yet, to use policy where strength did lack, first he sent forth certain light horsemen to prove the country on every side with persuasions, to see whether the uplandish people would be stirred to take king Edward’s part. Perceiving that it would not be, king Edward flieth to his shifts, dissembling his purpose to be, not to claim the crown and kingdom, but only to claim the duchy of York, which was his own title; and caused the same to be published. This being notified to the people, that he desired no more but only his just patrimony and lineal inheritance, they began to be moved with mercy and compassion towards him, either to favor him, or not to resist him: and so journeying toward York, he came to Beverley. The marquis Montacute, brother to the earl of Warwick, was then at Pomfret, to whom the earl had sent straight charge, with all expedition to set upon him, or else to stop his passage; and likewise to the citizens of York and all Yorkshire, to shut their gates and take armor against him. King Edward, being in these straits, proceeded notwithstanding near to York without resistance, where he required of the citizens to be admitted into their city. But so stood the case then, that they durst not grant it unto him, but on the contrary sent him word to approach no nearer, as he loved his own safeguard. The desolate king was here driven to a narrow strait, who neither could retire back, for the opinion of the country and loss of his cause; neither could go further, for the present danger of the city. ‘Wherefore, using the same policy as before, with loving words and gentle speech he desired the messengers to declare unto the citizens, that his coming was not to demand the realm of England, or the title of the same, but only the duchy of York, his old inheritance; and that he therefore determined to set forward neither with army nor weapon. The messengers were not so soon within the gates, but he was at the gates in a manner as soon as they. The citizens, hearing his courteous answer, and that he intended nothing to the prejudice of the king, nor of the realm, were something mitigated toward him, and began to commune with him from the walls, willing him to withdraw his power to some other place, and they would be the more ready to aid him; at least he should have no damage by them. Notwithstanding he again used such lowly language, and delivered so fair speech unto them, entreating them so courteously, and saluting the aldermen by their names, requiring at their hands no more but only his own town, whereof he had the name and title, that at length the citizens, after long talk and debating upon the matter, partly also enticed with fair and large promises, fell to this convention: That if he would swear to be true to king Henry, and gentle in entertaining his citizens, they would receive him into the city. This being concluded, the next morning at the entering of the gate, a priest was ready to say mass, in which, after the receiving the sacrament, the king received a solemn oath to observe the two articles before agreed upon. By reason of which oath so rashly made, and as shortly broken, and not long after punished (as it may well be thought) in his posterity, he obtained the city of York; where he, in short time, forgetting his oath, to make all sure, set in garrisons of armed soldiers. Furthermore, perceiving all things to be quiet, and no stir to be made against him, he thought to fore-slack no opportunity of time, and so made forward toward London, leaving by the way the marquis Mountacute, who lay then with his army at Pomfret, on the right hand, not fully four miles distant from his camp: and so returning to the high-way again, he went forward without any stirring to the town of Nottingham; where came to him sir William Parre, sir Thomas of Borough, sir Thomas Mountgomery, and divers else of his assured friends, with their aids, who caused him by a proclamation to stand to his own title of king Edward IV., saying, That they would serve no man but a king.—At the fame hereof being blown abroad, as the citizens of York were not a little offended (and that worthily), so from other towns and cities, lords and noblemen began to fall unto him, thinking with themselves that the marquis Mountacute either favored his cause, or was afraid to encounter with the man. Howsoever it was, king Edward, being now more fully furnished at all points, came to the town of Leicester, and there hearing that the earl of Warwick, accompanied with the earl of Oxford, were together at Warwick with a great power, minding to set on the earl, he removed from thence his army, hoping to give him battle. The duke of Clarence in the mean time about London had levied a great host coming toward the earl of Warwick, as he was by the earl appointed. But when the earl saw the duke to linger the time, he began to suspect (as it fell out indeed) that he was altered to his brethren’s part. The king, advancing forward his host, came to Warwick, where he found all the people departed. From thence he moved toward Coventry, where the earl was; unto whom, the next day after, he boldly offered battle. But the earl, expecting the duke of Clarence’s coming, kept him within the walls. All this made for the king. For he, hearing that his brother the duke of Clarence was not far off, coming towards him with a great army, raised his camp, and made towards him, either to treat or else to encounter with his brother. When each host was in sight of the other, Richard duke of Gloucester, brother to them both, as arbiter between them, first rode to the one, then to the other. Whether all this was for a face of a matter made, it is uncertain; but hereby both the brethren, laying all army and weapon aside, first lovingly and familiarly communed; after that, brotherly and naturally joined together. And that fraternal amity by proclamation also was ratified, and put out of all suspicion. Then was it agreed between the three brethren to attempt the earl of Warwick, if he likewise would be reconciled: but he, crying out shame upon the duke of Clarence, stood at utter defiance. From thence king Edward, so strongly furnished, and daily increasing, taketh his way to London; where, after it was known that the duke of Clarence was come to his brethren, much fear fell upon the Londoners, casting with themselves what was best to do. The suddenness of time permitted no long consultation. There was at London at the same time the archbishop of York, brother to the earl of Warwick, and the duke of Somerset, with others of king Henry’s council, to whom the earl had sent in commandment a little before, knowing the weakness of the city, that they should keep the city from their enemies two or three days, and he would follow with all possible speed with a puissant army, who, according to their commandment, defended the city with all their power; but yet to little purpose. For the citizens, consulting with themselves most for their own indemnity, having no walls to defend them, thought best to take that way which seemed to them most sure and safe, and therefore concluded to take part with king Edward. This was not so soon known abroad, but the commonalty ran out by heaps to meet king Edward, and to salute him as their king. Whereupon the duke of Somerset, with others of king Henry’s council, hearing thereof, and wondering at the sudden change of the world, to shift for themselves, fled away and left there king Henry alone; who, the same day being caused by the archbishop of York to ride about London like a king, was before night made captive, and reduced again to the Tower. It was not long after these things thus done at London, but the coming of the earl of Warwick was heard of; who, thinking to prevent mischiefs with making speed, came a little too late and missed of his purpose. In the earl’s army were John, duke of Exeter, Edmund earl of Somerset, John earl of Oxford, and the marquis Mountacute, the earl’s brother. The earl had now passed a great part of his journey, when he, hearing news of the world so changed, and of the captivity of king Henry, was not a little thereat appalled in his mind: wherefore he stayed with his army at St. Alban’s, to see what way further to take. And, forasmuch as there was no other remedy, but either he must yield, or one conflict must finish the matter, he removed to Barnet, ten miles from St. Alban’s. Against him set forth king Edward, well appointed, with a strong army of picked and able persons, with artillery, engines, and instruments, meet for the purpose; bringing with him also king Henry. On Easter-even he came to Barnet, and there he embattled himself. In the morning upon Easter-day the battle began, and fiercely continued almost till noon, with murder on each side, much doubtful, till both parties were almost weary with fighting and murdering. King Edward then, desirous to see an end, off or on, with a great crew of new fresh soldiers set upon his wearied enemies, whereby the earl’s men, encouraged with the words of their captain, stoutly fought: but they, sore wounded and wearied, could not long hold out. The earl, rushing into the midst of his enemies, ventured so far that he could not be rescued; where he was stricken down and slain, and there lay he. The marquis Montacute, thinking to succor his brother, whom he saw to be in great jeopardy, was likewise overthrown and slain. After that Richard Nevil earl of Warwick and his brother were gone, the rest fled, and many were taken. The number of them who were in this field slain, are judged about ten thousand, as Polydore Virgil reciteth. Fabian numbereth of them that were slain but fifteen hundred. The duke of Somerset and the earl of Oxford, thinking to fly to Scotland, returned to Jasper, earl of Pembroke, in Wales. The duke of Exeter hardly escaped to Westminster, and there took sanctuary. For the death of the earl of Warwick, the king was not so glad, as he was sorry for the marquis Mountacute, whom he took to be his friend. The corpses of these two were brought to the church of Paul’s, where they lay open in two coffins two days, and then were interred. In the narration of this history, Polydore Virgil, whom Hall followeth word for word, doth some deal differ from Robert Fabian; neither do I doubt but both these had their authors by whom they were directed. Notwithstanding this I marvel, that Polydore, writing of so many things which he never saw, doth not vouchsafe to cite unto us those writers of whom he borrowed. And more do I marvel or rather lament, if it be true what I have heard, that he not only nameth no author unto us, but also burned a heap of our English stories unknown, after the finishing of his, in the days of king Henry VIII. But now to our text again. All this while Queen Margaret, with young prince Edward her son, was scarce come over, being long let with contrary winds; who, at length, in the month of April, arrived at Weymouth in Dorsetshire, and hearing the sorrowful tidings of these things lately happened to her husband, and to the earl of Warwick and his brother, and of the prosperous success of king Edward, was so dismayed, disquieted, and pierced with sorrow, seeing all things, contrary to her expectation, so to frame against her, that she feared and took on with herself, lamenting her husband, bewailing her son, cursing her coming, and crying out of fortune; as though blind fortune were she that governeth times and tides (rewarding just punishments to unjust deservings of men), and not the secret power and terrible justice of Almighty God. Such was then the impatience of that queen, being not able to bear the vehemency of her passion (who rather should have sorrowed the dolorous death of duke Humphrey, whom before she neglected, but now she lacked), that her senses failed, her spirits were taken, her speech decayed, and, life almost gone, she fell to the ground, as one that would rather die than live. 22 In this desolate case queen Margaret, learning now to know her friends from her foes when it was too late, fraught full of heaviness, without solace or hope of remedy, she with her son and her company departed for her next refuge, to a monastery of monks called Beauly in Hampshire, there to take sanctuary and privilege of the house. Yet all hearts were not sound nor subdued in England, especially Edmund duke of Somerset, with lord John his brother; Thomas Courtney, earl of Devonshire; Jasper, earl of Pembroke; lord Wenlock; John Longscrother, being prior of the knights of St. John in Rhodes. These, hearing of the queen’s return, with speed resorted to her; by whom she, being somewhat quickened in her spirits, and animated to war, began to take some heart, and to follow their counsel; which was, in all the hot haste, to renew war against king Edward, being now unprovided, by reason his army was now dispersed, and chiefest of his soldiers wasted. Here great hope of victory was showed; great promises made. Although the queen’s mind was (being more careful for the young prince than for herself) to send him over into France, before some proof or trial made; yet following the contrary counsel of them, and partly cut off by shortness of time, which required haste, she began with all expedition to gather power. Likewise Jasper, earl of Pembroke, posted into Wales to do the same. King Edward, having intelligence of all these doings, first sendeth out certain light horsemen, to espy abroad through the west parts what ways his enemies did take. In the mean time he, using all celerity to meet them before they came to London, gathered a power, such as he could make about London, and first cometh to Abingdon, from thence to Marlborough, hearing that the queen was at Bath, thinking to encounter with them before they diverted into Wales to the earl of Pembroke, whither he thought (as they indeed intended) that they would take. But the queen, understanding the king to be so nigh, removeth from Bath to Bristol, sending word in the mean while to the citizens of Gloucester, that they would grant her leave safely to pass by their city. Which when it could not be obtained, with her army she departed from Bristol to Tewkesbury; where the duke of Somerset, knowing king Edward to be at hand at his very back, willed the queen there to stay, and in no wise to fly backward, for certain doubts that might be cast. Although this counsel was against the consent of many other captains, who thought it best rather to draw aside, until the earl of Pembroke with his army were with them associated; yet the mind of the duke prevailed, the place was prefixed, the field pitched, the time of battle came, the king was looked for; who, being within one mile of Tewkesbury, with like industry and policy as his enemies had done, disposed his army likewise in array. This celerity of the king, taking the time, was to him great advantage; who otherwise, if he had deferred till they had conjoined with the earl of Pembroke, had put the matter in great hazard. Such a matter it is to take a thing in time. Of this battle Hall thus reporteth, adding more than Polydore, that the duke of Somerset, although he was strongly intrenched, yet, through the occasion or policy of the duke of Gloucester, who had the fore-ward of the king’s part, a little reculing back, followed the chase, supposing that the lord Wenlock, who had the middle-ward, would have followed hard at his back. The duke of Gloucester, whether for shame rather than of policy, espying his advantage, suddenly turned face to his enemies. Whereupon the contrary part was eftsoons discomfited, and so much the more, because they were separated from their company. The duke of Somerset, not a little aggrieved at this so unfortunate a case, returneth to the middleward, where he, seeing the lord Wenlock abiding still, revileth him, and calleth him traitor, and with his axe striketh the brains out of his head. This much addeth Hall besides Polydore; but showeth not his author where he had it. Polydore, writing of this conflict, writeth no more but this: That the queen’s army, being overset with the number and multitude of their enemies, and she having no fresh soldiers to furnish the field, was at last overmatched, and the most part were slain or taken. In which battle were named to be slain, the earl of Devonshire, the lord Wenlock, lord John the duke of Somerset’s brother, besides others. Among them that were taken was queen Margaret, found in her chariot almost dead for sorrow, prince Edward, Edmund duke of Somerset, John, prior of St. John’s, with twenty other knights; all which were beheaded within two days after, the queen only and the young prince excepted: which prince Edward being then brought to the king’s presence, it was demanded of him how he durst be so bold to stand in battle against him. To this Edward Hall addeth more, and saith, that after the field was finished the king made proclamation, That whosoever would bring prince Edward to him, should have an annuity of a hundred pounds during his life, and the prince’s life should be saved. Whereupon sir Richard Croftes, not mistrusting the king’s promise, brought forth his prisoner, etc. And so the king demanding of the prince (as is said) how he durst so presumptuously enter this realm with his banner displayed against him, he answered, saying, That he came to recover his father’s kingdom and inheritance, from his grandfather and father to him descending; whereat (said Polydore) the king with his hand disdainfully thrust him from him. Others say, that the king struck him on the face with his gauntlet. At the speaking of these words were present George duke of Clarence, Richard duke of Gloucester, and the earl, lord William Hastings; who, upon the same, uncourteously falling upon the prince, did slay him. Queen Margaret, being brought prisoner to London, was afterwards ransomed by her father, the duke of Anjou, for a great sum of money which he borrowed of the French king, and for the payment thereof was fain to yield unto him the title of the kingdom of Sicily and Naples, etc. King Edward, for these prosperous wars, rendered to God his hearty thanks, and caused pubicly, through his realm, solemn processions to be kept three days together. And thus much, and too much, touching the wars of king Edward IV., which was done, A.D. 1471. The same year, and about the same time, upon Ascension-even, king Henry, being prisoner in the Tower, departed, after he had reigned in all thirty-eight years and six months. Polydore, and Hall following him, affirm that he was slain with a dagger by Richard duke of Gloucester, the king’s brother, for the more quiet and safeguard of the king his brother. In the history, entitled, ‘Scala Mundi,’ I find these words: “Quod in turri, in vigilia ascensionis Dominicae, ibidem feliciter moriens, per Thamesiam navicula usque ad abbatiara de Chertesey deductus, ibi sepultus est;” that is, “That king Henry, being in the Tower, upon the Ascension-even, there happily or quietly departing, was brought by Thames in a boat to the abbey, of Chertsey, and there buried. Polydore, after he hath described the virtues of this king, recordeth that king Henry VII. did afterwards translate the corpse of him from Chertsey to Windsor, and addeth, moreover, that by him certain miracles were wrought: For which cause the said king Henry VII. (saith he) labored with pope Julius, to have him canonized for a saint; but the death of the king was the let, why that matter proceeded not. Edward Hall, writing of this matter, addeth more, declaring the cause, why king Henry’s sancting went not forward, to be this: for that the fees for canonizing a king were of so great a quantity at Rome (more than of another, bishop or prelate), that the said king thought it better to keep the money in his chests, than, with the impoverishing of the realm to buy so dear, and pay so much, for a new holy-day of St. Henry in the calendar, etc. 24 Which if it be true, it might be replied then to pope Julius, that if popes be higher than kings in the earth, and especially in heaven, why then is a pope-saint so cheap in the marketplace of Rome, and a king-saint so dear? Again, if the valuation of things in all markets and burses be according to the price and dignity of the thing that is bought, what reason is it, seeing the sancting of a king beareth a bigger sale than the sancting of any pope in heaven, but that kings should be above popes also upon the earth? Sed extra jocum, as I do not doubt, but that king Henry was a good and a quiet prince, if he had not otherwise been abused by some; so, touching the ruin of his house, I think not contrary, but it came not without the just appointment of the Lord, either for that Henry of Lancaster’s house were such enemies to God’s people, and for the burning of the lord Cobham and many others; or else for the unjust displacing of king Richard II.; or else, thirdly, for the cruel slaughter of Humphrey, the good duke of Gloucester, his uncle; whereof sufficiently hath been said before. During the time of these doings, being about A.D. 1464, there was here in England a certain friar Carmelite, who, about the term of Michael the Archangel, preached at Paul’s in London, that our Lord Jesus Christ, being here in this present world, was in poverty, and did beg. To whose opinion and doctrine the provincial of that order seemed also to incline, defending the same both in his reading and preaching, with other doctors more and brethren of the same order; unto whom also joined certain of the Jacobites, and stiffly did take their parts. On the contrary side, many doctors and also lawyers, both in their public lectures and preaching, to the uttermost of their cunning did withstand their assertion, as being a thing most pestiferous in the church to be heard. Such a bitter contention was among them, that the defendant part was driven for a while to keep silence. Much like to those times I might well resemble these our days now present, with our tumultuous contention of forms and fashions of garments. But I put myself here in Pythagoras’s school, and keep silence with these friars. In the story, moreover, it followeth, that this beggarly question of the begging friars whether Christ did be or no, went so far, that at length it came to the pope’s ears, Paul II., who was no beggar ye may be sure! After that the fame of this doctrine, mounting over the Alps, came flying to the court of Rome, which was about the assumption of the Virgin Mary, the year next following, A.D. 1465, it brought with it such an evil smell to the fine noses there, that it was no need to bid them to stir; for begging to them was worse than high heresy. Wherefore the holy father pope Paul II., to repress the sparkles of this doctrine, which otherwise perhaps might have set his whole kitchen on fire, taketh the matter in hand, and eftsoons directeth down his bull into England, insinuating to the prelates here, “That this heresy, which pestiferously doth affirm that Christ did openly beg, was condemned of old time by the bishop of Rome, and their councils, and that the same ought to be declared in all places for a damned doctrine, and worthy to be trodden down under all men’s feet,” 25 etc. This was in the same year when prince Edward, king Edward’s son, was born in the sanctuary at Westminster, A.D. 1465. As touching the rest of the doings and affairs of this king (who had vanquished hitherto in nine battles, himself being present), how afterwards he, through the incitement of Charles duke of Burgundy, his brother-in-law, ventured into France with a puissant army, and how the duke failed him in his promise; also how peace between these two kings was at length concluded in a solemn meeting of both the said kings together (which meeting is notified in stories, by a white dove, sitting the same day of meeting upon the top of king Edward’s tent); also of the marriage promised between the young Dauphin and Elizabeth, king Edward’s eldest daughter, but afterwards broken off on the French king’s part; moreover as touching the death of the duke of Burgundy slain in war, and of his daughter Mary, niece to king Edward, being spoiled of her lands and possessions wrongfully by Louis, the French king, and married after to Maximilian: Furthermore, as touching the expedition of king Edward into Scotland, by reason of king James breaking promise in marrying with Cecilia, the second daughter of king Edward, and of his driving out his brother, and how the matter was composed there, and of the recovery again of Berwick; of these (I say) and such other things more, partly because they are described sufficiently in our common English stories, partly also because they be matters not greatly pertaining to the church, I omit to speak, making of them a ‘supersedeas.’ Two things I find here, among many others, specially to be remembered. The first is concerning a godly and constant servant of Christ, named John Goose, who, in the time of this king, was unjustly condemned and burnt at the Tower-hill, A.D. 1473, in the month of August. Thus had England also its John Huss as well as Bohemia. Wherein moreover this is to be noted, that since the time of king Richard II., there is no reign of any king to be assigned hitherto, wherein some good man or other hath not suffered the pains of fire, for the religion and true testimony of Christ Jesus. Of this said John Goose, or John Huss, this, moreover, I find in another English monument recorded, that the said John being delivered to Robert Belisdon, one of the sheriffs, to see him burnt in the afternoon; the sheriff, like a charitable man, had him home to his house, and there exhorted him to deny (saith the story) his errors. But the godly man, after long exhortation heard, desired the sheriff to be content; for he was satisfied in his conscience. Notwithstanding this, he desired of the sheriff, for God’s sake to give him some meat, saying, That he was very sore hungered. Then the sheriff commanded him meat; whereof he took and did eat, as if he had been towards no manner of danger, and said, to such as stood about him, “I eat now a good and competent dinner, for I shall pass a little sharp shower, ere I go to supper. And when he had dined, he gave thanks, and required that he might shortly be led to the place, where he should yield up his spirit unto God. The second thing herein to be noted is the death of George duke of Clarence, the king’s second brother; of whom relation was made before, how he assisted king Edward his brother, against the earl of Warwick, at Barnet field, and helped him to the crown; and now, after all these benefits, was at length thus requited, that (for what cause it is uncertain) he was apprehended and cast into the Tower, where he, being adjudged for a traitor, was privily drowned in a butt of Malmsey. What the true cause was of his death at cannot certainly be affirmed. Divers conjectures and imaginations there be diversely put forth. Some partly imputed it to the queen’s displeasure. Others suppose it came from taking part in the cause of his servant, who was accused and condemned for poisoning, sorcery, or enchantment. Another fame there is, which surmiseth the cause hereof to rise upon the vain fear of a foolish prophecy, coming no doubt, if it were true, by the crafty operation of Satan, as it doth many times else happen among infidels and gentiles, where Christ is not known; where, among high princes and in noble houses, much mischief groweth, first murder and parricide, and thereby ruin of ancient families, and alteration of kingdoms. The effect of this prophecy, as the fame goeth, was this: that after king Edward, should one reign whose name should begin with G; and, because the name of the duke of Clarence, being George, began with a G, therefore he began to be feared, and afterwards privily, as is before said, was made away with. CERTAIN NOTES UPON FALSE PROPHECIES. By these experiments and mischievous ends of such prophecies, and also by the nature of them, it is soon to be seen from what fountain or author they proceed; that is, no doubt, from Satan, the ancient enemy of mankind, and prince of this world; against whose deceitful delusions, christian men must be well instructed, neither to marvel greatly at them, though they seem strange, nor yet to believe them, though they happen true. For Satan, being the prince of this world, in such worldly things can foresee what will follow, and can say truth for a mischievous end; and yet for all that, is but a Satan. So the dream of Astyages, seeing a vine to grow out of his daughter, which should cover all Asia, and fearing thereby that by his nephew he should lose his kingdom, proved true in the sequel thereof; and yet notwithstanding of Satan it came, and caused cruel murder to follow, first of the shepherd’s child, then of the son of Harpagus, whom he set before his own father to eat. 27 Likewise Cyrus was prophetically admonished by his dream, to take him for his guide, whom he first met the next morrow. In that also his dream fell true, and yet was not of God. In the same number are to be put all the blind oracles of the idolatrous gentiles, which although they proceed of a lying spirit, yet sometimes they hit the truth to a mischievous purpose. The like judgment also is to be given of Merlin’s prophecies. The sorceress mentioned 1 Samuel 18, raising up Samuel, told Saul the truth, yet was it not of God. In Acts there was a damsel having the spirit of Pytho, 28 who said truth of Paul and Silas, calling them the messengers of the high God: and yet it was a wrong spirit. The unclean spriits, in giving testimony of Christ, said the truth; yet because their testimony came not of God, Christ did not allow it. Paulus Diaconus recordeth of Valentinian the emperor, that he also had a blind prophecy, not much unlike to this of king Edward, which was, that one should succeed him in the empire whose name should begin with q, o and .d Whereupon one Theodorus, trusting upon the prophecy, began rebelliously to hope for the crown, and for his labor felt the pains of a traitor. Notwithstanding the effect of the prophecy followed: for, after Valentinian, succeeded Theodosius. Wherefore christian princes and noblemen, and all Christ’s faithful people must beware and learn: First , That no man be inquisitive or curious in searching to know what things be to come, or what shall happen, besides those things only which are promised and expressed in the Word. Secondly , To understand what difference there is, and how to discern the voice of God from the voice of Satan. Thirdly , How to resist and avoid the danger of false and devilish prophecies. Many there be, who, not being contented with things present, curiously occupy their wits to search what is to come, and not giving thanks to God for their life which they have, will also know what shall bechance them, how and when their end will come, how long princes shall reign, and who, after, shall succeed them; and for the same get unto them soothsayers, astrologers, sorcerers, conjurers, or familiars. And these are not so much inquisitive to search or ask, but the devil is as ready to answer them, who either falsely doubleth with them to delude them, or else telleth them truth, to work them perpetual care and sorrow. Thus was pope Silvester, the sorcerer, circumvented by the devil, who told him, that he should be at Jerusalem before he died, and so it fell out. For as he was saying his mass at a chapel in Rome, called Jerusalem, there he fell sick, and within three days after died: 29 to king Henry IV., also, it seemeth it was prophesied, that he should not die before he went to Jerusalem; who, being brought to the abbot’s chamber of Westminster, and hearing the name of the chamber to be called Jerusalem, knew his time to be come, and died. By such deceitful prophecies it cannot be lamented enough to see what inconvenience, both public and private, groweth to the life of men, either causing them falsely to trust where they should not, or else wickedly to perpetrate what they would not; as may appear both by this king, and also divers more. So were Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar (as writeth Cicero) deceived by the false Chaldees, in declaring to them that they should not die but in their beds, and with worship, and in their old age. Of such false trust rising upon false prophecies, St. Ambrose, in his book of Exameron, writeth, speaking of rain, which being in those parts greatly desired, was promised and prophesied by one certainly to fall upon such a day, which was at the changing of the new moon: but (saith St. Ambrose) there fell no such rain at all, till, at the prayers of the church, the same was obtained. Giving us to understand, that rain cometh not by the word of man, nor by the beginnings of the moon, but by the providence and mercy of our Creator. Johannes Picus, earl of Mirandula, in his excellent books written against these vain star-tellers and astrologers, 31 writeth of one Ordelaphus, a prince, to whom it was prognosticated by a famous cunning man in that science, called Hieronymus Manfredus, that he should enjoy long continuance of health, and prosperous life; who, notwithstanding, the selfsame year, and in the first year of his marriage, deceased; and, after divers other examples added moreover upon the same, he inferreth also mention, and the name, of a certain rich matron in Rome, named Constantia, who, in like manner, departed the same year in which she received great promises by these soothsayers and astrologers, of a long and happy life, saying to her husband these words. “Behold,” saith she, “how true be the prognostications of these sooth-tellers!” If it were not for noting of those who now are gone, and whose names I would in no case to be blemished with any spot, I could recite the names of certain, especially one, who, taking his journey in a certain place, after diligent calculation and forecasting of the success and good speed of his journey, was, notwithstanding, in the same journey apprehended, and brought where he would not; and after that never enjoying a good day, in a short time he departed. In Basil this I myself heard, of one who knew and was conversant with the party, who, having a curious delight in these speculations of chances and events to come, by his calculation noted a certain day, which he mistrusted should be fatal unto him, by something which at that day should fall upon him. Whereupon he determined with himself all that day to keep him sure and safe within his chamber: where he, reaching up his hand to take down a book, the book falling down upon his head, gave him his death’s wound: and, shortly after, he died upon the same. Of these and such like examples the world is full, and yet the curiousness of men’s heads will not refrain still to pluck the apple of this unlucky and forbidden tree. Beside all this, what murder and parricide come by the fear of these prophecies, in great bloods and noble houses, I refer it unto them who read and well advise the stories, as well of our kings here in England, as in other kingdoms more, both Christened and Turkish, whereof another place shall serve as well (Christ willing) more largely to treat, and particularly to discourse. To this pertain also the great inconvenience and hindrance that grow by the fear of such prophecies in the vocation of men, forasmuch as many there be, who, fearing some one danger, some another, leave their vocations undone, and follow inordinate ways. As if one having a blind prophecy, that his destruction should be in the day, would wake and do all his business by night and candle-light; and so forth in other several cases of men and women, as every one in his own conscience knoweth his own case best. The second thing to be considered in these prophecies, is rightly to discern and understand, as near as we can, the difference between the prophecies proceeding from God, and the false prophecies counterfeited by Satan. For Satan sometimes playeth God’s ape, and transformeth himself into an angel of light; bearing such a resemblance and color of truth and religion, that a wise man is scarcely able to discern one from the other, and the most part is beguiled. Concerning prophecies therefore, to know which be of God, which be not, three things are to be observed: First, Whether they go simply and plainly, or whether they be doubtful and ambiguous: whereof the one seemeth to taste of God’s Spirit, such as be the prophecies of the Scripture; the other to come otherwise, having a double or doubtful interpretation. Although the time of God’s prophecies, as also of miracles, is commonly and ordinarily expired, yet if the Lord in these days now extraordinarily do show any prophecy, by the simpleness and plainness thereof it may partly be discerned. Secondly, This is to be expended: whether they be private, tending to this family or that family, or public. For, as the Scriptures, so commonly the prophecies of God, have no private interpretation, but general; forasmuch as the care of God’s Holy Spirit is not restrained partially to one person more than to another, but generally, and indifferently, respecteth the whole church of his elect in Christ Jesus his Son. Wherefore such prophecies as privately are touching the arms of houses or names of men, rising or falling of private and particular families, are worthily to be suspected. The third note and special argument to descry the true prophecies of God from the false prophecies of Satan and his false prophets, is this, to consider the matter and the end thereof; that is, whether they be worldly, or whether they be spiritual, or whether they tend to any glory or state of this present world, or whether they tend to the spiritual instruction, admonition, or comfort, of the public church. Now remaineth thirdly, after we know what prophecies be of God, and what not, that we be instructed next how to eschew the fear and peril of all devilish prophecies, which make against us; wherein two special remedies are to be marked of every christian man, whereby he may be safe and sure against all danger of the enemy. The first is, that we set the name of Christ Jesus, the Son of God, against them, through a true faith in him; knowing this, that the Son of God hath appeared to dissolve the works of the devil. And again, “This is the victory,” saith the Scripture, “that overcometh the world, even our faith.” Whatsoever then Satan worketh, or can work against us, be it ever so forcible, faith in Christ will vanquish it. Such a majesty is in our faith, believing in the name of the Son of God. The other remedy is faithful prayer, which obtaineth, in the name of Christ, all things with the Lord. So that wicked fiend, which had killed before seven husbands of Tobias’s wife, could not hurt him entering his matrimony with earnest prayer: so no more shall any sinister prophecy prevail, where prayer out of a faithful heart doth strive against it. Neither am I ignorant, that against such temporal evils and punishments in this life inflicted, a great remedy lieth also in this, when Satan findeth nothing wherein greatly to accuse our conscience. But because such a conscience is hard to be found, the next refuge is to fly to repentance, with amendment of life. For many times where sin doth reign in our mortal bodies, there also the operation of Satan is strong against us, to afflict our outward bodies here; but as touching our eternal salvation, neither work nor merit hath any place, but only our faith in Christ. And thus much briefly touching the two special remedies, whereby the operation of all devilish prophecies may be avoided and defeated. Now many there be, who, leaving these remedies aforesaid, and the safe protection which the Lord hath set up in Christ, take other ways of their own, seeking by their own policy how to withstand and escape such prophecies, either subtilely in eschewing the place and time, or else cruelly, by killing the party whom they fear; whereof cometh injury, murder, and parricide, with other mischiefs in commonwealths unspeakable. To whom commonly it cometh so to pass, that whereby they think most to save themselves, by the same means they fall most into the snare, being subverted and confounded in their own policy, for that they, trusting to their own device, and not unto the Lord, who only can dissolve the operation of Satan, the Lord so turneth their device into a trap, thereby to take them, whereby they think most surely to escape. Examples whereof we see not only in Astyages, king of the Medes aforesaid, and Cyrus; but in infinite other like events, which the trade of the world doth daily offer to our eyes. So queen Margaret thought her then cock-sure, when duke Humphrey was made away; when nothing else was her confusion so much, as the loss and lack of that man. So, if king Richard II. had not exercised such cruelty upon his uncle Thomas, duke of Gloucester, he had not received such wrong by king Henry IV. as he did. Likewise this king Edward IV., if he had suffered his brother George, duke of Clarence, to live, his house had not so gone to wrack by Richard, his other brother, as it did. What befel the student of astrology, in the university of Basil, ye heard before; who, if he had not mewed himself in his chamber for fear of his divination, had escaped the stroke that fell. Now, in avoiding such prophetical events, which he should not have searched, he fell into that which he did fear. These few examples, for instruction’s sake, I thought by occasion to infer, not as though these were alone; but by these few to admonish the reader of infinite others, which daily come in practice of life, to the great danger and decay, as well of private houses, as of weals public. Wherefore, briefly to repeat what before simply hath been said touching this matter, seeing that Satan, through such subtle prophecies, hath yet and doth daily practice so manifold mischiefs in the world, setting brother against brother, nephew against the uncle, house against house, and realm against realm; engendering hatred where love was, and subverting privily the simplicity of our christian faith: therefore the first and best thing is for godly men not to busy their brains about such phantasies, neither in delighting in them, nor. in hearkening to them, nor in searching for them, either by soothsayer, or by conjuration, or by familiar, or by astrologer; knowing and considering this, that whosoever shall be desirous or ready to search for them, the devil is as ready to answer his curiosity therein. For as once, in the old time of Gentility, he gave his oracles by idols and priests of that time; so the same devil, although he worketh not now by idols, yet he craftily can give now answer by astrologers and conjurers in these our days; and in so doing, both to say truth, and yet to deceive men, when he hath said. Wherefore, leaving off such curiosity, let every christian man walk simply in his present vocation, referring hid things, not in the word expressed, unto him who saith in his word, “Non est vestrum scire tempora et momenta temporum,” etc. “It is not for you to know the times, and seasons of times, which the Father hath kept in his own power,” etc. Secondly, In this matter of prophecies, requisite it is (as is said) for every christian man to learn, how to discern and distinguish the true prophecies, which proceed of God, and the false prophecies, which come of Satan. The difference whereof, as it is not hard to be discerned; so necessary it is, that every good man do rightly understand the same, to the intent that he, knowing and flying the danger of the one, may be the more certain and constant in adhering to the other. Thirdly, Because it is not sufficient that the deceitful prophecies of the devil be known, but also that they be resisted, I have also declared, by what means the operation of Satan’s works and prophecies is to be overcome; that is, not with strength and policy of man, for that there is nothing in man able to countervail the power of that enemy. Under heaven there is nothing else that can prevail against his works, but only the name of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, not outwardly pronounced only with our lips, or signed on our foreheads with the outward cross, but inwardly apprehended, and dwelling in our hearts by a silent faith, firmly and earnestly trusting upon the promises of God, given and sealed unto us in his name. For so it hath pleased his fatherly wisdom to set him up, to be both our righteousness before himself, and also to be our fortitude against the enemy, accepting our faith in his Son in no less price than he accepteth the works and worthiness of the same his Son, in whom we do believe. Such is the strength and effect of faith both in heaven, in earth, and also in hell: in heaven to justify, in earth to preserve, in hell to conquer. And, therefore, when any such prophecy, or any other thing is to us objected, which seemeth to tend against us, let us first consider whether it savor of Satan, or not. If it do, then let us seek our succor, not in ourselves, where it doth not dwell, neither let us kill, nor slay, nor change our vocation there-for, following inordinate ways: but let us run to our Castle of refuge, which is, to the power of the Lord Jesus, remembering the true promise of the ninety-first Psalm: “Qui habitat in adjutorio altissimi, in protectione Dei coeli commorabitur;” that is, “Whoso putteth his trust in the succor of the Lord, shall have the God of heaven to be his protector.” And then shall it afterwards follow, as in the same Psalm: “Ipse liberabit te a laqueo venantium, et a verbo aspero;” that is, “And he shall deliver him from the snare of the hunter, and from all evil words and prophecies, be they never so sharp or bitter against him,” etc. And thus much, by the occasion of king Edward, of prophecies. Now, having long tarried at home in describing the tumults and troubles within our own land, we will let out our story more at large, to consider the afflictions and perturbations of other parties and places also of Christ’s church, as well here in Europe under the pope, as in the east parts under the Turk, first deducing our story from the time of Sigismund, where we before left off; which Sigismund, as is above recorded, was a great doer in the council of Constance against John Huss and Jerome of Prague. This emperor had ever evil luck, fighting against the Turks. Twice he warred against them, and in both the battles was discomfited and put to flight; once about the city of Nicopolis in Moesia, fighting against Bajazet, the great Turk, A.D. 1395, the second time fighting against Celebine, the son of Bajazet, about the town called Columbacium. 32 But especially after the council of Constance, wherein were condemned and burned those two godly martyrs, more unprosperous success did then follow him, fighting against the Bohemians, his own subjects, A.D. 1420, by whom he was repulsed in so many battles, to his great dishonor, during all the life of Zisca and of Procopius, as is before more at large expressed: who was so beaten both of the Turks, and at home of his own people, that he never did encounter with the Turks after. Then followed the council of Basil, after the beginning whereof, within six years, this Sigismund, who was emperor, king of Hungry, and king of Bohemia, died in Moravia [Dec. 9th], A.D. 1437. ALBERT, 740 THE EMPEROR. This Sigismund left behind him one only daughter Elizabeth, who was married to Albert duke of Austria, by reason whereof he was advanced to the empire, and so was both duke of Austria, emperor, king of Hungary, and king also of Bohemia. But this Albert (as is afore declared) being an enemy and a disquieter to the Bohemians, and especially to the good men of Tabor, as he was preparing and setting forth against the Turks, in the mean time died, in the second year of his empire, A.D. 1489, leaving his wife great with child; who lying then in Hungary, and thinking herself to be great with a daughter, called to her the princes and the chieftains of the realms, declaring to them that she was but a woman, and insufficient to the governance of such a state; and moreover how she thought herself to be but with child of a daughter; and therefore required them to provide among them such a prince and governor (reserving the right of the kingdom to herself), as would be fit and able under her, to have the regiment of the land committed. The Turk, in the mean while, being elevated and encouraged with his prosperous victories against Sigismund aforesaid, began then more fiercely to invade Hungary, and those parts of Christendom. Wherefore the Hungarians, making the more haste, consulted among themselves to make duke Uladislaus, brother to Cassimir king of Poland, their king. But while this was in working between the Hungarians and Uladislaus the duke, in the mean space Elizabeth brought forth a son called Ladislaus, who being the lawful heir of the kingdom, the queen called back again her former word, minding to reserve the kingdom for her son, being the true heir thereof, and therefore refused marriage with the said Uladislaus, which she had before pretended. But Uladislaus, joining with a great part of the Hungarians, persisting still in the condition before granted, would not give over; by reason whereof great contention and division kindling among the people of Hungary, Amurath, the great Turk, taking his advantage of their discord, and partly surpressed with pride of his former success against Sigismund afore-said, with his whole main and force invaded the realm of Hungary; where Huniades, the Vaivode or prince 641 of Transylvania, joining with the new king Uladislaus, did both together set against the Turk A.D. 1444, and there Uladislaus, the new king of Hungary, in the fourth year of his kingdom, was slain. Elizabeth with her son had fled in the mean while to Frederic the emperor. Of Huniades, the noble captain, and of his acts, and also of Ladislaus, (Christ willing) more shall be said hereafter, in his time and place. FREDERIC THE THIRD, EMPEROR. After the decease of Albert succeeded in the empire Frederick III., duke of Austria, A.D. 1440; by whom it was procured (as we have before signified) that pope Felix, elected by the council of Basil, did resign his popedom to pope Nicholas V., upon this condition, that the said pope Nicholas should ratify the acts decreed in the said council of Basil. In the days of this emperor, much war and dissension raged almost through all christian realms in Austria, Hungary, Poland, France, Burgundy, and also here in England, between king Henry VI. and king Edward IV., as ye have already heard; whereby it had been easy for the Turk, with little mastery, to have overrun all the christian realms in Europe, had not the providence of our merciful Lord otherwise provided to keep Amurath, the Turk, occupied in other civil wars at home in the mean while. Unto this Frederic came Elizabeth (as is afore said) with Ladislaus her son; by whom he was nourished and entertained a certain space, till at length, after the death of Uladislaus aforesaid, king of Hungary (who was slain in battle by the Turks), the men of Austria, through the instigation of Ulric Eizinger, and of Ulric, earl of Silesia, rising up in arms, required of Frederic the emperor, either to give them their young king, or else to stand to his own defense. When Frederic heard this, neither would he render to them a sudden answer, neither would they abide any longer delay; and so the matter growing to war, Neustadt 642 was besieged, where many were slain, and much harm done. At length, the emperor’s part being the weaker, the emperor, through the intervention of certain nobles of Germany, restored Ladislaus unto their hands, who being yet under age committed his three kingdoms to three governors, whereof John Huniades, the worthy captain abovementioned, had the ruling of Hungary; George Podiebrad had Bohemia; and Ulric, the earl of Silesia, had Austria: which Ulric, having the chief custody of the king, bare the greatest authority above the rest; a man as full of ambition and tyranny, as he was hated almost of all the Austrians, and, shortly after by the means of Eizinger was excluded also from the king and the court, but afterward restored again, and Eizinger thrust out. Such is the unstable condition of those, who be next in place about princes. But this contention between them I overpass. Not long after; Ladislaus, the young king, went to Bohemia, there to be crowned, where George Podiebrad (as is said) had the governance. But Ladislaus, during all the time of his being there, though being much requested, yet would neither enter into the churches, nor hear the service of those who did draw after the doctrine of Huss. Insomuch that when a certain priest was appointed and addressed, after the manner of priests, to say service before the king in the castle chapel at Prague, 643 being discovered to hold with John Huss and Rochezanus, the king disdaining at him, commanded him to give place and depart, or else he would send him down headlong from the castle rock: and so the good minister, repulsed by the king, departed. Also another time, the said Ladislaus seeing the sacrament carried by a minister of that side, whom they called then Rochezanians, 644 would do thereunto no reverence. At length the long abode of the king, although it was not very long, yet seemed to the godly-disposed to be longer than they wished; and that was not to the king unknown, which made him to make the more haste away: but, before he departed, he thought first to visit the noble city of Breslau in Silesia; in the which city the aforesaid king Ladislaus, being there in the high church at service, many, great princes were about him. Among whom was also George Podiebrad, who then stood nearest to the king, unto whom one Chilianus, the king’s ‘fool’ 645 (a term applied to certain persons, who, while they pretend themselves fools, make fools of others), spake in this wise as followeth: ‘With what countenance you do behold this our service I see right well, but your heart I do not see. Say then, doth not the order of this our religion seem unto you decent and comely? do you not see how many and how great princes, yea, the king himself, do follow one order and uniformity? and why do you not then follow these, rather than your preacher Rochezana? do you think a few Bohemians to be more wise than all the church of Christ besides? why then do you not forsake that rude and rustical people, and join to these nobles, as you are a noble man yourself?’ Unto whom thus Podiebrad sagely again answered, ‘If you speak these words of yourself, saith he, you are not the man whom you feign yourself to be; and so to you I answer, not as to a fool. But if you speak this by the suggestion of others, then must I satisfy them. Hear therefore: As touching the ceremonies of the church, every man hath a conscience of his own to follow. As for us we use such ceremonies, as we trust do please God; neither is it in our arbitrement to believe what we will ourselves. The mind of man, being persuaded with great reasons, is captived, will he, nill he; and. as nature is instructed and taught, so is she drawn, in some one way, and in some another. As for myself, I am fully persuaded of the religion of my preachers. If I shouId follow thy religion, I might perchance deceive men, while going counter to my own conscience; but I cannot deceive God, who seeth the hearts of all; neither shall it become me to frame myself to thy disposition. That which is meet for a jester, is not likewise convenient for a noble man. And these words either take to thyself, as spoken to thee, if thou be a wise man; or else I refer them to those who set thee at work. After the king was returned from the Bohemians again to Austria, the Hungarians likewise made their petitions to the king, that he would also come unto them. The governor of Hungary (as ye before have heard) was John Huniades, whose victorious acts against the Turks are famous. Against this Huniades, wicked Ulric, earl of Silesia, did all he could with the king, to bring him to destruction, and therefore caused the king to send for him up to Vienna, and there privily to work his death. But Huniades, having thereof intelligence, offereth himself, within Hungary, to serve his prince in all affairs: out of the land where he was, he was not bound (he said) to attend his commands. 646 The earl, being so disappointed, came down with certain nobles of the court to the borders of Hungary, thinking either to apprehend him and bring him to Vienna, or there to dispatch him. Hunlades said he would commune with him abroad in the fields; within the town he would not be brought. After that, another train also was laid for him, that under pretense of the king’s safe-conduct he should meet the king in the broad fields of Vienna. But Huniades, suspecting deceit, came indeed to the place appointed, where he, neither seeing the king to come, nor the earl to have any safe-conduct for him, was moved (and not without cause) against the earl, declaring how it was in his power there to slay him, who went about to seek his blood; but, for the reverence of the king, he would spare him and let him go. Not long after this, the Turk with a great power of fighting men, to the number of a hundred and fifty thousand, 647 arrived in Hungary, where he laid siege to the city of Belgrade. 648 But through the merciful hand of God, John Huniades, and Capistranus a certain Minorite, with a good muster of christian soldiers, gave him the repulse and put him to flight with all his mighty host; whereof more, Christ willing, hereafter. 35 Huniades shortly after this victory deceased. Of whose death when the king and the earl did understand, they came the more boldly into Hungary; where, being received by Ladislaus, Huniades’s son, into the city of Belgrade, they viewed the place where the Turks before had pitched their tents. When this Ladislaus heard that the king was coming first toward the town, obediently he opened to him the gates. Four thousand only of armed soldiers he debarred from entering the city. In the mean time, while the king was there resident in the city, the earl with other nobles did sit in council, requiring also Ladislaus to resort unto them; who, first doubting with himself what he should do, at length putteth on a privy coat of mail, and cometh to them. Whether the earl first began with him, or he with the earl, it is not known. the opinion of some is, that Ulric first called him traitor, for shutting the gates against the king’s soldiers. Howsoever the occasion began, this is undoubted, that Ulric, taking his sword from his page, let fly at his head. To break the blow, some, putting up their hands, had their fingers cut off. The Hungarians, hearing a noise and tumult within the chamber, brake in upon them, and there incontinent slew Ulric the earl, wounding and cutting him almost all to pieces. The king hearing thereof, although he was not a little discontented thereat in his mind, yet seeing there was then no other remedy, dissembled his grief for a time. From thence taking his journey again to Buda, accompanied with the aforesaid Ladislaus, the king, passing by the town where the wife of Huniades was mourning for the death of her husband, seemed with many fair words to comfort her, and after he had there sufficiently repasted himself, with such pretense of dissembled love, and feigned favor, that they were without all suspicion and fear; from thence he set forward on his journey, taking with him the two sons of Huniades, Ladislaus and Matthias, who were right ready to wait upon him. The king, being come to Buda (whether of his own head, or by sinister counsel set on), when he had them at a vantage, caused both, the sons of Huniades, to wit, Ladislaus and Matthias, to be apprehended. And first was brought forth Ladislaus, the elder son, to the place of execution, there to be beheaded; where meekly he suffered, being charged with no other crime but this, published by the voice of the crier, saying, “Thus are they to be chastened, who are rebels against their Lord.” Peucer, writing of his death, addeth this moreover that after the hangman had three blows at his neck, yet notwithstanding the said Ladislaus, having his hands bound behind him, after the third stroke rose upright upon his feet, and looking up to heaven called upon the Lord, and protested his innocency in that behalf; and so laying down his neck again, at the fourth blow was dispatched. 36 Matthias, the other brother, was led captive with the king into Austria. The rest of the captives brake the prison, and escaped. It was not long after this cruelty was wrought upon Ladislaus (the king being about the age of eighteen years 650 ), that talk was made of the king’s marriage with Magdalen, daughter to Charles the French king. The place of the marriage was appointed at Prague, where great preparation was for the matter. At the first entrance of the king into the city of Prague, Rochezana, with a company of ministers such as were favorers of John Huss and of sincere religion, came with all solemnity to receive the king, making there his oration to gratulate the king’s most joyful and prosperous access into the same his own realm and country of Bohemia. Unto which Rochezana, after he had ended his oration, scarce the king would open his mouth to give thanks to him, or show any cheerful countenance unto his company, but seemed fiercely to frown upon them. In the next pageant after these, came forth the priests of the high minster after the most popish manner, meeting him with procession and with the sacrament of the altar: for as panacea, among physicians, serveth for all diseases, so the sacrament of the pope’s altar serveth for all pomps and pageants. First it must lie upon the altar; then it must be holden up with hands; then it must hang in the pix; it must serve for the quick; it must also help the dead; it must, moreover, visit the sick; it must walk about the churchyard; it must go about the streets; it must be carried about the fields to make the grass to grow; it must be had to the battle; it must ride on horseback before the pope: and finally it must welcome kings into cities. Wherein these catholic fathers do seem somewhat to forget themselves. For if the pope, being inferior to the sacrament of the altar, at the coming of kings do use to sit still, while the kings come and kiss his feet, what reason is it that the sacrament of the altar, which is (I trow) above the pope, should meet kings by the way, and welcome them to the town? But this by the way of parenthesis: let us now continue the text. When Ladislaus, this catholic king, who had showed himself before so stout and stern against Rochezana and his company, had seen these catholic priests with their procession, and especially with their blessed sacrament, coming; with all reverence and much devotion, he lighted down from his horse, he embraced the cross and kissed it, and with cheerful countenance saluted the priests in order. All this while, his young wife was not yet come out of France, but legates were sent, after most sumptuous wise to conduct her. Other legates also were sent at the same time to the emperor Frederic, for conclusion of peace. The third legation was directed likewise to pope Calixtus about religion, how to reduce the Bohemians to the church of Rome. 37 The author of this story (who was pope Pius II. himself) declareth farther the opinion of some to be, that king Ladislaus, the same time, had intended to make a final end and destruction of all that sect in Bohemia, which held with the doctrine of John Huss and Jerome, by the assembly and concourse of the catholic princes and popish prelates, who were appointed there to meet together at that marriage in Prague. For there should be first, the emperor Frederic and the empress, 651 the king’s two sisters Elizabeth and Anna, the princes of Saxony, Bavaria, Silesia, Franconia, the Palatine and other princes of the Rhine: many also of the lords of France, besides the pope’s cardinals, legates, prelates, and other potestates of the pope’s church; who if they had altogether convented in Bohemia, no doubt but some great mischief had been wrought there against the Hussites, against whom this Ladislaus, following the steps of Sigismund, his grandfather, and Albert, his father, was ever an utter enemy. But when man hath purposed, yet God disposeth as pleaseth him. And therefore truly it is written by Aeneas Sylvius in the same place, saying, “De regimine civitatum, de mutatione regnorum, de orbis imperio, minimum eat quod homines possunt: magna magnus disponit Deus:” That is, “In regiment of cities, in alteration of kingdoms, in ruling and governing the world, it is less than nothing that man can do; it is the high God that ruleth high things.” Whereunto then I may well add this moreover, and say: that if the governance of worldly kingdoms standeth not in man’s power, but in the disposition of God, much less is it then that man’s power can do, in the regiment and governing of religion. Example whereof in this purposed device of princes doth evidently appear:, for, as this great preparation and solemnity of marriage was in doing, and the princes ready to set forth, with a little turn of God’s holy hand all these great purposes were suddenly turned and dashed. For in the midst of this business, about midnight, 652 the 22nd day of November, A.D. 1458, this great adversary of Christ’s people, king Ladislaus, king of Bohemia and of Hungary, and prince of Austria, sickened, and within thirty-six hours died; some say of a pestilent sore in his groin, some say of poison. But howsoever it was, as it came not without the just judgment of God, revenging the innocent blood of Ladislaus, Huniades’s son, wrongfully put to death before; so, by the opportune death of this king the poor churches of Bohemia were graciously delivered. And this end made Ladislaus, one of the mightiest princes at that time in all Europe; in whom three mighty kingdoms were conjoined and combined together, Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia; which countries do lie south east from England, in the farthest parts of all Germany, toward Constantinople and the dominion of the Turks, and contain these principal towns in them. THE LARGE DOMINIONS OF LADISLAUS. AUSTRIA. Vienna Melck . Neustadt (nova Civitas). Gretz . St . Hypolit . Lintz . Stein . Haimburg . Kremsier . Karolsburg . Teben . Kotzo . Raba . Lindenburg . HUNGARY. Ofen Buda. Strigonium. Kalachia. Varadein. Nitria. Nicopolis, Nova et Vetus. Agria. Orszaw. Bossen. Sabaria . BOHEMIA. Prague. Plizen. Budweis. Kolm, or Koelu. Egra. Kuttenberg. Leimiritz. Laun. Racownitz. Glataw. Bern, or Beraun. Bruck, or Most. Gretz, or Hradetz. Austi. Maut, or Myto. Hof. Jaromir. Dubitz, or Biela. Lantzhut. Gilgwey. Krupa. Krumaw. Pardubice. Chumitaum. Loket, or Teplitz. Hantzburg, or Zbraslau. Labes, or Ultawa . After the death of Ladislaus, the kingdom of Bohemia fell to George Podiebrad above mentioned, whom Pope Innocent VIII. did excommunicate and depose for his religion, as is afore declared. Furthermore the kingdom of Hungary was given to Matthias, son of Huniades, who was in captivity (as is said) with king Ladislaus, and should have been put to death after his brother, had not the king before been prevented with death, as is above recorded. Moreover, here is to be noted that the said king, Ladislaus, thus dying without wife and issue, left behind him two sisters alive, to wit, Elizabeth, who was married to Casimir, king of Poland; and Anna, married to William duke of Saxony; Elizabeth by her husband Casimir, king of Poland, had Uladislaus, who at length was king of both Bohemia and Hungary. This Uladislaus 653 was first married to Beatrix, wife before to Matthias. Then, being divorced from her by the dispensation of pope Alexander, he married a new wife, a countess of France, by whom he had two children, Louis and Anne; Louis, who was heir of both kingdoms, Bohemia and Hungary, was slain fighting against the Turks. Anne was married to Ferdinand, by whom he was archduke of Austria, king of Bohemia, etc. Ye heard before, how, after the decease of Ladislaus, the Hungarians, by their election, preferred Matthias, surnamed Corvinus, who was son of Huniades, to the kingdom of Hungary: for which cause dissension fell between Frederic the emperor and him, for that the said Frederic was both nominated himself by divers unto that kingdom, and also because he had the crown of Hungary then remaining in his hands, which Elizabeth, mother to king Ladislaus, had brought to the emperor, as was before declared. But this war between them was ceased by the intercession of the princes of Germany, so that Matthias ransomed that crown of Frederic for eight thousand florins. Not long after, pope Innocent being displeased with George Podiebrad (or Bojebracius), king of Bohemia, for favoring of John Huss and his religion, that is to say, for playing the part of a godly prince, did excommunicate and depose him, conferring his kingdom on Matthias. But, forsomuch as Frederic the emperor would not thereto consent, and especially after the death of the aforesaid George, when the emperor and the Bohemians, leaving out Matthias, did nominate Uladislaus, son of Casimir king of Poland, and of Elizabeth, to be king of Bohemia, therefore great war and trouble kindled between him and Frederic the emperor; wherein the emperor had utterly gone to ruin, had not Albert, duke of Saxony, rescued the emperor, and repressed the vehemency of Matthias. The noble acts of John Huniades, and of this Matthias, his son, were not only great stays to Hungary, but almost to all Christendom, in repelling back the Turk. For besides the other victories of John Huniades, the father aforementioned, this Matthias also, his son, succeeding no less in valiantness, than in the name of his father, did so recover Sirmium, and the confines of Illyrica, from the hands of the Turks, and so vanquished their power, that both Mahomet, and also Bajazet, his son, were enforced to seek for truce. Over and besides, the same Matthias conducting his army into Bosnia, which lieth south from Hungary, recovered again Jaitza, the principal town of that kingdom, from the Turks’ possession; who, if other christian princes had joined their helps withal, would have proceeded further into Thrace. But behold here the malicious subtlety of Satan, working by the pope. For while Matthias was thus occupied in this expedition against the Turks, wherein he should have been set forward and aided by christian princes, and bishops; the bishop of Rome wickedly and sinfully ministereth matter of civil discord between him and Podiebrad aforesaid, in removing him from the right of his kingdom, and transferring the same to Matthias. Whereupon, not only the course of victory against the Turks was stopped, but also great war and bloodshed followed in christian realms, as well between this Matthias and Podiebrad, with his two sons Victorinus and Henricus, as also between Casimir, Uladislaus, and Matthias, warring about Breslau; till at length the matter was taken up by the princes of Germany. Albeit, for all the execrable excommunication of the pope against Podiebrad, a great part of Bohemia would not be removed from the obedience of their king, whom the pope had cursed, and deposed: yet Matthias took from him Moravia, and a great portion of Silesia, and adjoined it to his kingdom of Hungary, A.D. 1474. Here this by the way is to be noted, that the religion in Bohemia, planted by John Huss, could not be extinguished or suppressed with all the power of four mighty princes, Wenceslaus, Sigismund, Albert, and Ladislaus, notwithstanding they, with the popes, did therein what they possibly could; but still the Lord maintained the same, as ye see by this Podiebrad, king of Bohemia, whom the pope could not utterly remove out of the kingdom of Bohemia. This forementioned Matthias, besides his other memorable acts of chivalry, is no less also commended for his singular knowledge, and love of learning and of learned men, whom he with great stipends procured into Pannonia; where, by the means of good letters, and furniture of learned men, he reduced in short space the barbarous rudeness of that country into a flourishing commonwealth. Moreover such a library he did there erect, and replenish with all kind of authors, sciences, and histories, which he caused to be translated out of Greek into Latin, as the like is not thought to be found, next to Italy, in all Europe beside. Out of which library we have received divers fragments of writers, as of Polybius, and Diodorus Siculus, which were not extant before. The constant fortitude also of George Podiebrad, king of Bohemia, is not unworthy of commendation; of whom also pope Plus himself, in ‘Descriptione Europae,’ doth honestly report (as a pope may speak of a protestant), in these words writing, “Magnus vir alioqui, et rebus bellicis clarus,” etc.: who, although pope Innocent did execrate him with his children, yet he left not off the profession of the verity and the knowledge which he had received. Moreover, the Lord so prospered his sons, Victorinus and Henricus, that they subdued their enemies, and kept their estate: insomuch that when Frederic the emperor, at Vienna, was in custody enclosed by the citizens, Victorinus did restore, and deliver him out of their hands. Wherefore the emperor afterwards advanced them to be dukes. Also God gave them sometimes prosperous victory against Matthias, as at the city of Glogau, etc. After the decease of George Podiebrad, king of Bohemia, Frederic the emperor assigned that kingdom, not to Matthias, upon whom the pope had bestowed it before, out to Uladislaus, son of Casimir king of Poland, and of Elizabeth, daughter of the emperor Albert II., and sister to Ladislaus. For the which Matthias being discontented, and for that the emperor had denied him his daughter Kunegunda, went about to exclude Uladislaus out of Bohemia, and also proclaimed war against Frederic. But before he accomplished his purposed preparation, death prevented him, who without issue departed, A.D. 1490. After the death of Matthias, departing without issue, Uladislaus, son of Casimir king of Poland, and of Elizabeth daughter to Albert the emperor, and sister to king Ladislaus, married his wife Beatrix, whom Matthias left a widow, and with her was elected king of Hungary, with this condition made between him and Frederic the emperor, that if he died without lawful issue, then the kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia should return to Maximilian, son to Frederic. But Uladislaus not long after did repudiate his wife Beatrix, and depriving her of her kingdom, caused the said Beatrix to swear and to consent to his marrying another woman, who was the daughter of the French king, named Anne, procuring from pope Alexander a dispensation for the same, as is before signified. By this Anne, Uladislaus had Louis and Anne, which Anne afterwards was married to Ferdinand. Louis succeeding his father, had both the said kingdoms of Bohemia and Hungary, A.D. 1492, and married Mary, sister to the emperor Charles the Fifth. Anne as is said, was coupled to Ferdinand, etc. Of Charles duke of Burgundy somewhat was before touched, who had married king Edward’s sister; and what troubles by him were stirred up in France, partly was before notified. This Charles after he had besieged the town of Nuys, near to Cologne, the space of a whole year, went about to alienate the territory of Cologne from the empire to his own dominion: wherefore war began to be moved between him and Frederic the emperor. At length, through communication had, peace was concluded, and a marriage appointed between Mary the only daughter of Charles, and Maximilian the emperor’s son, A.D. 1475. Then from Nuys Charles leadeth his army towards Switzerland, against Renatus, or Rene, duke of Lorraine; then against the Switzers, where he, being thrice overcome, first at Granson, then at Moratum, or Morat, in the higher part of Switzerland, at last, at the town of Nancy, was overthrown and slain, A.D. 1477. The procurer of which wars was chiefly Louis XI., the French king, to the intent he might compass the dominion of Burgundy under his subjection; which afterward by open wrong and privy fraud he brought about, defrauding Mary, the daughter of Charles, of her rightful inheritance; for the which cause the Burgundians were the more willing to join her in marriage with Maximilian, son of Frederic the emperor: by reason whereof the title of Burgundy was first joined to the house of Austria. And thus have you the miserable vexations and contentions among our christian princes here in Europe described, under the reign of this emperor Frederic III., so that almost no angle or portion of all Christendom (whether we consider the state of the church, or civil government) was free from discord, tumults, and dissensions. This cankered worm of ambition so mightily creepeth, and every where prevaileth in these latter ends of the world, that it suffereth neither rest in commonweals, nor peace in the church, nor any sparkle of charity almost to remain in the life of men. And what marvel then if the Lord, seeing us so far to degenerate, not only from his precepts and counsels, but almost from the sense and bond of nature, that brother with brother, uncle with nephew, blood with blood, cannot agree, in striving, killing and fighting for worldly dominions, do send therefore these cruel Turks upon us, so to scourge and devour us? of whose bloody tyranny and daily spilling of christian blood hereafter, by the grace of Christ, we will discourse more at large, when we come to the peculiar consideration of the Turkish stories. In the mean time this shall be for us to note and observe: not so much the scourge how grievous it is, but rather to behold the causes which bring the whip upon us, which are our own miserable ambition and wretched wars among ourselves. And yet if this christian peace and love, left and commended so heartily unto us by the mouth of the Son of God, being now banished out of christian realms, and civil governance, might at least find some refuge in the church, or take sanctuary among men professing nothing but religion, less cause we had to mourn. Now so it is, that as we see little peace and amity among civil potentates; so less we find in the spiritual sort of those, who chiefly take upon them the administration of Christ’s church. So that it may well be doubted whether the scourge of the Turk, or the civil sword of princes have slain more in the fields, or the pope’s keys have burnt more in towns and cities. And albeit such as be professed to the church, do not fight with sword and target for dominions and revenues, as warlike princes do; yet this ambition, pride, and avarice, appeareth in them nothing inferior unto other worldly potestates; especially if we behold and advise the doings and insatiable desires of the court of Rome. Great arguments and proof hereof neither are hard to be found, nor far to be sought. What realm almost through all Christendom hath not only seen with their eyes, but have felt in their purses the ambition intolerable, and avarice insatiable of that devouring church, and also have complained upon the grievance thereof, but never could be redressed? What exactions and extortions have been here in England out of bishoprics, monasteries, benefices, deaneries, archdeaconties, and all other offices of the church, to fill the pope’s coffers? and when they had all done, yet almost every year brought some new invention from Rome to fetch in our English money; and if all the floods in England (yea in all Europe) did run into the see of Rome, yet were that ocean never able to be satisfied. In France, likewise, what floods of money were swallowed up in this see of Rome! It was openly complained of in the council of Basil, as is testified by Henry Token, canon and ambassador of the archbishop of Magdeburg, written in his book, entitled, ‘Rapularium,’ where he writeth that in the council of Basil, A.D. 1486, the archbishop of Lyons did declare, that in the time of pope Martin there came out of France to the court of Rome, nine millions of gold, which was gathered of the bishops and prelates, besides those which could not be counted of the poor clergy, who daily, without number, ran unto the court of Rome, carrying with them all their whole substance. The archbishop of Tours said also at Basil, A.D. 1459, that three millions of gold came unto Rome in his time, within the space of fourteen years, from the prelates and prelacies, whereof no account could be made, besides the poor clergy who daily run to that court. Let the man that feareth God judge what a devouring gulf this is: a million containeth ten hundred thousand. And what made pope Pius II. to labor so earnestly to Louis XI., the French king, who, as is aforesaid, was a great enemy to the house of Burgundy, that he would, according to his former promise, abolish and utterly extinguish the constitution established before at the council of Bourges, by king Charles VII., his predecessor, called ‘Pragmatica Sanctio,’ but only the ambition of that see, which had no measure, and their avarice, which had no end? The story is this: King Charles VII., the French king, willing to obey and follow the council of Basil, did summon a Parliament at Bourges; where, by the full consent of all the states in France, both spiritual and temporal, a certain constitution was decreed and published, called ‘Pragmatica Sanctio;’ wherein was comprehended briefly the pith and effect of all the canons and decrees concluded in the council of Basil. Which constitution the said king Charles willed and commanded through all his realm inviolably to be observed and ratified, for the honor and increase of the christian religion, for ever. This was A.D. 1438. It followed that after the decease of the foresaid Charles VII. succeeded king Louis XI., who had promised before (being dauphin) to pope Pius, that if he ever came to the crown the aforesaid ‘Sanctio Pragmatica’ should be abolished. Whereupon pope Pius, hearing him to be crowned, did send unto him John Balveus a cardinal, with his great letters patent, willing him to be mindful of his promise made. The king, either willing, or else pretending a will, to perform and accomplish that he had promised, directed the pope’s letters patent, with the said cardinal, to the council of Paris; requiring them to consult upon the cause. Thus the matter being brought and proposed in the parliament-house, the king’s attorney, named Johannes Romanus, a man well spoken, singularly witted, and well reasoned, stepping forth, with great eloquence, and no less boldness, proved the said sanction to be profitable, holy, and necessary for the wealth of the realm, and in no case to be abolished. Unto whose sentence the university of Paris, adjoining their consent, did appeal from the attempts of the pope to the next general council. The cardinal understanding this, took no little indignation thereat, fretting and fuming, and threatening many terrible things against them: but, all his minatory words notwithstanding, he returned again to the king, his purpose not obtained, A.D. 1466. Thus the pope’s purpose in France was disappointed, which also in Germany had come to the like effect, if Frederic the emperor had there done his part likewise toward the Germans; who, at the same time, bewailing their miserable estate, went about with humble suit to persuade the emperor, that he should no longer be under the subjection of the popes of Rome, except they had first obtained certain things of them as touching the charter of appeals; declaring their estate to be far worse (although undeserved) than the Frenchmen or Italians, whose servants (and especially of the Italians) they are worthily to be called, except that their estate were altered. The nobles and commonalty of Germany did instantly entreat, with most weighty reasons and examples, both for the utility and profit of the empire, to have the emperor s aid and help therein, for that which he was bound unto them by an oath; alleging also the great dishonor and ignominy, in that they alone had not the use of their own laws, declaring how the French nation had not made their suit unto their king in vain against the exactions of popes, by whom they were defended; who also provided decrees and ordinances for the liberty of his people, and caused the same to be observed; which thing the emperor ought to foresee within his empire, and to provide for his people and states of his empire, as well as other kings do. For what shall come to pass thereby, if that foreign nations, having recourse unto their kings, being relieved and defended by them from the said exactions, and the Germans, and states of the empire flying unto their emperor, be by him forsaken, or rather betrayed and deprived of their own laws and decrees? The emperor, being moved, and partly overcome by their persuasions, promised that he would provide no less for them, than the king of France had done for the Frenchmen, and to make decrees in that behalf. But the grave authority of Aeneas Sylvius, as Platina writeth in the history of Pius II., brake off the matter; * whose 44 talk was thus unto the emperor. Mark here the wicked oration of a wicked and traitorous orator. “Amongst princes,” saith he, “albeit there be variance and discord about great and weighty matters, yet peace may sometimes be made again: but between the prince and the common people there is always mortal hatred.” Wherefore this wicked Aeneas, forasmuch as he should be shortly the successor of Calixtus, concluded upon this point, saying: That he thought it much better to accord with the pope, than to follow their covetous desires, whose minds are led with covetousness and appetite, rather than by reason. Behold by what policy and engine, with what force of impiety and wickedness, that venomous tongue hath suddenly envenomed and enchanted the emperor, that with one word he hath subverted and put away such evident truth, such exquisite justice, and such manifest utility and necessity of laws and decrees, which Aeneas himself was present at the making of, and a long time allowed the same unto the emperor, and put them in execution; besides the manifold and weighty reasons of the princes and people of Germany, who were admitted, had already taken place and persuaded, but that as yet they were not performed. This, I say, he brought to pass by that his only false, seditions, and venomous oration, that he* did so bewitch the emperor, that he, contemning the equal, just, and necessary requests of his subjects, chose the said Aeneas to be his ambassador unto Calixtus, then newly chosen pope, to swear unto him in his name, and to promise the absolute obedience of all Germany, as the only country (as they call it) of obedience, neglecting the ordinances and decrees of their country, as before he had done unto Eugene IV., being ambassador for the said Frederic, promising that he and all the Germans would be obedient unto him from henceforth, in all matters, as well spiritual as temporal. Thus, twice, Frederic of Austria contemned and derided the Germans, and, frustrating them of their native decrees and ordinances, brought them under subjection and bondage of the pope; which partly was the cause that seven years before his death, he caused his son Maximilian not only to be chosen, but also crowned king of the Romans, and did associate him in the ministration of the empire, lest after his death (as it came to pass) the empire should be transported into another family; suspecting the Germans, whom he had twice, contrary to his laws, made subject, and in bondage unto the pope’s exactions; first, before he was crowned in the time of Eugene IV.; and again, the second time, after his coronation, and the death of pope Nicholas V., denying their requests; by whom, afterwards, in the year of our Lord 1468, he was besieged. Whereupon Germany being in this miserable poverty and grievous subjection under the pope’s tyranny and pollings, with tears and sighs lamenting their estate, continued so almost unto Luther’s time; as the histories hereafter following do testify. And here ceasing with the story of Frederic, we will now proceed to the reign of Maximilian, his son, omitting divers things else incident in the time of this emperor; as first, touching the unbrotherly contention and conflicts between this Frederic and Albert his brother, and Sigismund his uncle, for the dukedom of Austria, after the death of Matthias afore-mentioned. Omitting also to speak of the long and cruel war between the Prussians and Poles, with the religious sect of those who were called ‘Teutones fratres sanctae Mariae,’ in the time of Uladislaus: omitting also the strife and variance for the dukedom of Milan, between Frederic the emperor, Alphonsus, Charles duke of Orleans, and Francis Sfortia: and how the said princedom being after given to Sfortia, great wars were kindled and long continued between Sfortia and the Milanese, then between the Milanese and Venetians, and after between the Frenchmen and the Milanese. All which tumults and commotions, as not pertinent greatly to the purpose of this story, I refer to other writers, where they are to be found more amply discoursed. JOHN THE NEATHERD, OF FRANCONIA, A MARTYR; AND DOCTOR JOHANNES DE WESALIA. This, as more properly belonging to the story of the church, I thought good not to pass over, touching such as were condemned, and suffered the pains of fire, for testimony of Christ and his truth; of whom one was John, a pastor or neatherd, who was a keeper of cattle: the other was Johannes de Wesalia, although not burned, yet persecuted nearly to death, under the reign of this emperor, Frederic III. And first touching this John, the neatherd, thus writeth Sebastian Munster: That the bishop of Wurtzburg condemned and burned for a heretic one John, who was a keeper of cattle at a town called Nicholas Hausen, in Franconia, because he taught and held that the life of the clergy was ignominious and abominable before God, A.D. 1479. The other was doctor Johannes de Wesalia, who was complained of unto Dietherus, archbishop of Mentz, by the Thomists, upon certain articles and opinions gathered out of his books. Wherefore the said Dietherus, fearing else to be deposed again from his bishopric, directeth forth commission to the universities of Heidelburgh and Cologne, to have the matter in examination; who, conventing together the year above mentioned, called this doctor de Wesalia before them, making him to swear that he should present and give up all his treatises, works, and writings, whatsoever he had made or preached. That being done, they divided his books amongst themselves, severally every man to find out what heresies and errors they could. His articles and opinions are these: I. That all men be saved freely, and through mere grace, by faith in Christ. II. Free-will to be nothing. III. That we should only believe the word of God, and not the gloss of anyman, or fathers. IV. That the word of God is to be expounded with the collation of one place with another. V. That prelates have no authority to make laws, or to expound the Scriptures, by any peculiar right given unto them, more than to another. VI. That men’s traditions, as fastings, pardons, feasts, long prayers, peregrinations, and such like, are to be rejected. VII. Extreme unction and confirmation to be reproved. VIII. Confession and satisfaction to be reprehended. IX. The primacy of the pope also he affirmed to be nothing. Certain other articles also were gathered out of him by his adversaries, but in such sort, that they may seem rather to follow their own malicious gathering, than any true intelligence of his mind; whereof more is to be understood in this process hereafter. Thus when Wesalianus was commanded to appear, there convented together first the archbishop, the inquisitor, the doctors of Cologne, and the doctors of Heidelburgh, with the masters of the same, and the rector of the university of Mentz, the dean of faculties, bachelors of divinity, and many other masters of the same university, canons, doctors, with the bishop’s chancellor, and his counsellors; besides many religious prelates, scholars, with a doctor of Frankfort, the somner, and beadles, who all met together in the great hall of the Minorites, for the examination of this Johannes de Wesalia. Friar Elton, the inquisitor, first sitteth in the highest place; then, after him, others according to their degree. In the beginning of the examination, first the inquisitor beginneth with these words: ‘Most reverend father and honorable doctors! etc. Our reverend father and prince elector hath caused this present convocation to be called, to hear the examination of Master John de Wesalia, in certain suspected articles concerning the catholic faith. But something I will say before, that may do him good, and desire that two or three of them that favor him, or some other, will rise up and give him counsel to forsake and leave his errors, to reeognise himself, and to ask pardon: which if he will do, he shall have pardon; if he will not, we will proceed against him without pardon.’ And thus Wesalianus, being cited, and brought in the midst betwixt two Minorites, being very aged, and having a staff in his hand, was set before the inquisitor: who, beginning to answer for himself with a long protestation, could not be suffered to prosecute his oration, but was cut off, and required briefly to make an end, and to tell them in few words, whether he would stand to his opinions, or to the determination of the church. To this he answered, that he never spake any thing against the determination of the church, but said, that he had written divers and sundry treatises, in which if he had erred, or were found to say otherwise than well, he was contented to revoke and call back the same, and to do all things that were requisite. Then said the inquisitor, “Do you ask then pardon?” The other answered: “Why should I ask pardon, when I know no crime or error committed?” The inquisitor said: “Well, we will call you to the remembrance thereof, and proceed to the examination.” In the mean time, others called upon him instantly to ask pardon. Then said Wesalianus: “I ask pardon.” Notwithstanding the inquisitor proceeded to the examination, reading there two instruments, declaring that he had authority from the apostolic see. After this, he cited the said John to appear to his examination. Thirdly, he commanded him, under pain of disobedience, in the virtue of the Holy Ghost, and under pain of excommunication of the greater curse (from which no man could absolve him, but only the pope, or the inquisitor, except only at the point of death), to tell plainly the truth upon such things as should be demanded of him concerning his faith, without arabages, and sophistication of words. And so, being demanded first whether he did believe upon his oath taken, that he was bound to tell the truth, although it were against himself or any other: To this he answered, “Scio,” that is, “I know.” Then the inquisitor biddeth him say, “Credo,” that is, “I believe.” To which he answered again, “What need I say, that I believe that thing which I know?” There the inquisitor something stirred with the matter, as hot as a toast (as they say) cried with a loud voice, “Master Johannes, Master Johannes, Master Johannes, say ‘Credo,’ say ‘Credo:’” then he answered, ‘Credo.’ After this, being demanded whether he had written any treatise, concerning the binding of human laws, to one Nicholas of Bohemia; and whether he had written any treatise on the ecclesiastical power of Indulgences and Pardons, and on Fasting and other treatises; he answered, That he believed he had so written, and had conferred with divers learned men; also, that he had sent to the bishop of Worms a certain treatise on Fasting. Many other interrogatories were ministered unto him, whereof some were vain, some false. Such as were more principal, here we will briefly touch, leaving out superfluities. Being demanded whether he was a fautor of the Bohemians, he said, he was not. Also, being demanded concerning the sacrament of the holy body and blood of our Lord, whether he thought Christ there to be contained really, or only divinely, and whether he did believe, in the said sacrament, the substance of bread there to remain, or only the form thereof: To this he answered, not denying but the body of Christ was there really contained, and also, that with the body of Christ, the substance of bread did remain. After this, he was demanded his opinion concerning religious men, as monks, nuns, or beguines, whether he thought them to be bound to the vow of chastity, or to the keeping of any other vow, and whether he said to the friars Minorites any such word in effect,, “I cannot save you in this your state and order.” This he confessed that he had said, how that “not your religion saveth you, but the grace of God,” etc.; not denying but they might be saved. Item, Being required whether he believed, or had written, that there is no mortal sin,45 but that which is expressed to be mortal in the canon of the holy Bible: to this he answered, that he did so believe as he had written, till he was better informed. Likewise, being required what he thought of the vicar of Christ on earth,46 he answered, That he believed that Christ left no vicar on earth: for the confirmation whereof he alleged and said, That Christ, ascending up to heaven, said “Ecce ego vobiscum sum;” “Behold I am with you:” in which words he plainly declared, that he would substitute under him no vicar here on earth: and he said moreover; “If a vicar signify any man who, in the absence of the principal, hath to do the works of the principal, then Christ hath no vicar here on earth.” In like manner, concerning indulgences and pardons, such as the church doth use to give, they demanded of him, whether they had any efficacy, and what he thought thereof: who answered again, That he had written a certain treatise of that matter, and what he had written in that treatise he would persist therein, which was thus: That he believed that the treasurebox of the merits of saints could not be distributed of the pope to others, because that treasure is not left here on earth; for so it is written in the Apocalypse, “Opera enim illorum sequuntur illos,” etc. that is, “Their works follow them.” Item, That their merits could not be applied to other men, for the satisfaction of their pain due unto them; and therefore that the pope and other prelates, cannot distribute that treasure to men. It was objected to him moreover, that in his said treatise he called pardons and indulgences, ‘pias fraudes fidelium,’ that is, ‘holy frauds and deceits of the faithful.’ Also, being demanded what he thought of the hallowing and blessing of altars, chalices, vestments, wax-candles, palms, herbs, holy water, and other divine things, etc. He answered, That they had no spiritual virtue and power in them to drive away devils, and that holy water hath no more efficacy than other water not hallowed, as concerning remission of venial sins, and driving away devils, and other effects, which the school-doctors do attribute to it. Item, For degrees of marriage forbidden in the Scriptures, he believeth, That all christian men under deadly sin are bound unto the same. Item, That he believeth, That God may give grace to a man, having the use of reason, without all motion of free will. Also he thinketh, that St. Paul, in his conversion, did nothing of his own free will for his conversion. He believeth moreover, That God may give such grace to a man having the use of reason, not doing that which in him is. Item, He alarmed, That nothing is to be believed, which is not contained in the canon of the Bible. Also, That the elect are saved only by the grace of God. Besides all these, moreover he was charged with the old opinion of the Greeks, which they did hold contrary to the Roman church, ante the time of the council of Ferrara above mentioned, concerning the proceeding of the Holy Ghost. The Wednesday next following, three doctors, the Suffragan, Herwicus, and Jacobus Sprenger, were sent unto him, with persuasions to exhort him; and when he would not stand to their canons, whereby they went about to refute his doctrine, he was then demanded of Herwicus, why he would believe rather the four evangelists, than the gospel of Nicodemus? to whom he answered, Because he would. Being asked again, why he believed the four evangelists? he said, Because he so received of his parents. Then being demanded, why he would not believe the doctors? Because (said he) their doctrine is not canonical scripture. 48 Again, it was to him objected, why he would be credited himself when he preached, seeing he would not believe the holy doctors? to whom he answered in this wise, saying, That he did preach as his duty was; but whether they gave credit to his words, he did not care. This examination being ended, after these articles were condemned by the inquisitor and his assistants, then said he after this manner: As you do with me, if Christ himself were here, he might be condemned as a heretic.” After this they sent divers to him to have communication with him, and to persuade him, sending also to him, with his articles, a form of asking pardon. At length, within three or four days after, he was content to condescend unto them, and to submit himself to their holy mother church, and the information of the doctors. In the book of Orthuinus Gratius, and in Paralipomena, adjoined to Abbas Urspergensis, we read these words written of this Johannes de Wesalia: 49 ‘Except only the article of the proceeding of the Holy Ghost, in other articles it seemeth that he was not to be chastened with so sharp censure, if respite and space had been given him, if good counsellors had been about him, if all they who did accuse and molest him had not been ‘de via realium,’ as Thomists, that is, of the sect of Thomas; which Thomists were set at that time against the other sect of the seculars, who were called Nominals, and therefore they so spited this doctor, because he did not hold with their Thomas, against whom otherwise (had it not been for that cause), they would never have been so fierce and malicious in proceeding against him. I take God to witness, who knoweth all things, that this process which was made against him, for his revoking and burning of his books, did greatly displease Master Engeline of Brunswick, a great divine, and also Master John Keisersberg, being both learned and famous men; but namely Master Engeline thought, that too much malice and rashness were showed in handling of that same man, and did not fear to say, That many of his articles, and the greater part thereof, might be holden well enough; and greatly blamed the mad and fantastical dissension of the Thomists, seeking by all manner of ways how to get the triumph over the secular divines,’ etc. Although this aged and feeble old man, by weakness, was constrained to give over unto the Romish clergy, by outward profession of his mouth; yet notwithstanding, his opinions and doctrine declared his inward heart, of what judgment he was, if fear of death present, had not enforced him to say otherwise than he did think. Again, although he had revoked after their minds, yet we read no such form of recantation to be prescribed to him to read openly unto the people, as the use is here in England. The story of this man is more fully to be found in the books of Orthuinus Gratius, etc. As touching the reign of this emperor Frederic, seeing we have comprehended hitherto sufficiently the most principal matters in his time incurrent, we will now pass forward, the Lord guiding us, to Maximilian, after I have first given a brief memorandum of three valiant princes and captains, flourishing in the same time of this Frederic in Germany, of which, one was Albert duke of Saxony, who for his renowned and famous acts, was called by public voice, ‘Dextra manus imperii,’ ‘the right hand of the empire;’ another was Albert, marquis of Brandenburgh, to whom also the name attributed (named of pope Pius) was Achilles Germanicus; the third was Frederic, earl Palatine, surnamed Victoriosus, who manfully defended the freedom and majesty of the empire, from the fraudulent oppressions of the pope’s tyranny. In the year of our Lord 1484, in this emperor’s time, died pope Sixtus IV., a little before touched; rather a monster of nature, than a prelate of the church. Of him writeth Platina, that unjustly he vexed all Italy with war and dissension. Agrippa, writing of him, saith, That among all the bawds of these our latter days, who were builders of brothel-houses, this pope Sixtus IV. surmounted all others; who at Rome erected stews 655 of double abomination, not only of women, but also, etc.; whereupon no small gain redounded to his coffers. For every such common harlot in Rome paid to him a July piece, the sum whereof grew in the year, some while to twenty thousand; at length to forty thousand ducats. 51 Whereunto accordeth right well the epitaph of John Sapidus, which in the end hereof we will annex. John Carion also, speaking of this bishop, witnesseth him to be a man rather born to war than to religion. For he warred against Vitellius Tiphernates, against the Florentines, the Venetians, whom he excommunicated, and did not absolve till he died; also against Columnensis, against Ferdinand, king of Apulia, and duke of Calabria; also against other nations and princes besides. Of the said pope it is recorded, that he was a special patron and tutor to all begging friars, granting them to have and enjoy revenues in this world, and in the world to come everlasting life. Among which friars there was one named Alanus de Rupe a black friar, who made the rosary of our lady’s psalter (so they term it) and erected a certain new fraternity upon the same, called Fraternitas Coronariorum, pertaining to the order of the Dominies; of which order Jacobus Sprenger, one of the condemners of Johannes de Wesalia above-mentioned, was a great advancer, and especially this pope Sixtus IV., who gave to the said fraternity large graces and privileges. Concerning the institution of this rosary, there was a book set forth about A.D. 1480, in the beginning whereof is declared, That the blessed Virgin entered into the cell of this Alanus, and was so familiar with him, that not only she did espouse him for her husband, but also kissed him with her heavenly mouth, and also, for more familiarity, opened to him her paps, and poured great plenty of her own milk into his mouth. For the confirmation whereof, the said Alanus, this holy babe (saith the story), did swear deeply, cursing himself, if it were not thus, as he had made relation. This fabulous figment when I read in the Centuries of John Bale, I began with myself to mistrust the credit thereof, and had thought not to trouble the reader with such incredible forgeries. But, as the providence of God worketh in all things, so also it appeared in this, that the very same book came to my hands at the writing hereof, wherein this self-same narration is contained, wherein I found not only this to be true, which in John Bale is expressed, but also found in like manner another wonder, as prodigious as this; where, in anoother place not far off, it is storied in the same book, how that about the time of St. Dominic, there was a certain matron in Spain, named Lucia, who, being taken captive by the Saracens, having her husband killed, was carried, great with child, into the Turkish land. When the time of her labor came, she being left desolate among beasts and hogs, and remembering this twice holy rosary (first instituted, saith the book, by St. Dominic, and afterwards renewed by Alanus), eftsoons the Holy Virgin was ready and stood by her, and received the child at her travail, supplying all the parts of a diligent midwife; and, moreover, causing a priest suddenly to appear, she gave the child to be christened, calling it after her own name, Marianus. And so was she wife to Alanus, midwife to Lucia, and godmother to Marianus! Which story if it be true, then is the pope’s canon by this example to be controlled, which permitteth midwives in time of necessity to baptize, seeing the blessed Virgin, playing the part herself of a midwife, durst not baptize this child without a priest. It followeth more in the story, that by the help of the said blessed Virgin, this Lucia, our lady’s gossip, after her purification, was restored with her child safe to her country again! This book, being in Latin and printed, beareth this title, ‘Rosacea augustissimae Christiferae Maxiae corona;’ and in front it showeth the name of Jodocus Beisselius, a nobleman of Aquine. 53 And this by occasion of pope Sixtus, which Sixtus, what a maintainer of blind superstition he was, partly by that before spoken, partly by the end following, it may be seen, For we read in certain writers, that after this pope had understanding that Hercules Estensis, duke of Ferrara, had joined peace with the Venetians against his will, he was so grieved therewith, that for rancor of mind, within five days after, he died; whereunto his epitaph following giveth sufficient record. About this time also died Platina, a man not unlearned, but yet a shameful flatterer and bearer with the wicked lives of the popes. AN EPITAPH ON POPE SIXTUS. Non potuit saevum vis ulla extinguere Sixtum Audito tandem nomine pacis obit. ANOTHER ON THE SAME POPE. Sixto jaces tandem, nostri discordia secli, Saevisti in superos, nunc Acheronta move. State jaces tandem, deflent tua busta cinaedi, Scortaque, lenones, alea, vina, venus. ANOTHER. Gaude prisce Nero, vincit to crimine Sixtus, Hic scelus omne simul clauditur, et vitium. But leaving here pope Sixtus with his verses and vices, let us now proceed, as we before promised, to enter the story of Maximilian, keeping notwithstanding, the order of our kings here in England. For a little before the reign of Maximilian, king Edward IV. ceased his life, A.D. 1488, after he had reigned twenty-two years. In the time of which king Edward this also is not to be forgotten, that one Burdet, a merchant dwelling in Cheapside, at the sign of the Crown, which is now the sign of the Fleur-de-luce, merrily speaking to his son, said that he would make him inheritor of the crown, meaning indeed his own house; for which words, king Edward causing them to be misconstrued, and interpreted as though he had meant the crown of the realm, within less space than four hours, he was apprehended, judged, drawn, and quartered, in Cheapside! EDWARD THE FIFTH. THIS king Edward left behind him by his wife Elizabeth, two sons, Edward and Richard, and two daughters, Elizabeth and Cecilia: which two sons, Edward and Richard, forasmuch as they were under age, and not ripe to govern, a consultation was called among the peers, to debate whether the aforesaid young prince and king, should be under the government of his mother, or else that Richard, duke of Gloucester, brother to king Edward IV., and uncle to the child, should be governor of the king, and protector of the realm. There hath been, and is, an old adage, the words whereof, rather than the true meaning, wrested out of Solomon [Ecclesiastes 10], “Vae regno cujus rex est puer,” etc.; i.e. “Wo to the kingdom, the king whereof is a child,” etc. But if I may find leave herein to thrust in a gloss, I would add this, and say: “Vae illi puero, qui sui regni rex non est;” i.e. “Wo to that child, which is a king in a kingdom unruly and ambitious.” There was, the same season, among other noble peers of the realm, the duke of Buckingham, a man of great authority, who had married the sister of king Edward’s wife. Because the duke, being so nearly allied to the king, had been unkindly, as he thought, of the king entreated, having by him no advancement, nor any great friendship showed, according to his expectation, he took part therefore with Richard, duke of Gloucester, both against the queen and her children, to make the aforesaid duke the chief governor and protector. Which thing being brought to pass, by the aid, assistance, and working of the duke of Buckingham, the queen took sanctuary with her younger son; the elder brother, who was the king, remaining in the custody of the duke of Gloucester, his uncle; who, being now in a good towardness to obtain that which he had long looked for, sought all the means, and soon compassed the matter, by false color of dissembled words, by perjury, and labor of friends, namely the duke of Buckingham and the cardinal archbishop of Canterbury, that the other brother also should be committed to his credit. Thus the ambitious protector and unnatural uncle, having the possession of his two nephews, and innocent babes, thought himself almost up the wheel where he would climb; although he could not walk in such mists and clouds, but his devised purposes began to be espied; which caused him more covertly to go about to remove from him all suspicion, and to blind the people’s eyes. But before he could accomplish his execrable enterprise, some there were whom he thought first must be rid out of his way, as namely the lord Hastings, and the lord Stanley; who, as they were sitting together in council within the Tower, the protector (the matter being so appointed before) suddenly rushed in among them, and after a few words there communed, he suddenly hasted out again (his mind belike, being full of mischief and fury, was not quiet); who, within the space of an hour, returned again into the chamber with a stern countenance and a frowning look, and so there sat down in his place. When the lords were in great marvel and muse at the meaning hereof, then he, out of a cankered heart, thus began to bray, asking them: “What are they worthy to have, who go about to imagine the destruction of him being so near to the king’s blood, and protector of the realm?” At which question as the other lords sat musing, the lord Hastings, because he had been more familiar with him, thus answered, That they were worthy of punishment, whatsoever they were: which when the other lords also had affirmed, “That is,” quoth the protector, “yonder sorceress, my brother’s wife,” meaning the queen and others with her: adding moreover, and saying, “That sorceress, and others of her council, as Shore’s wife, with her affinity, have, by their witchcraft, thus wasted my body;” and therewith showed forth his left arm, a wearish withered thing, as it was never otherwise, as was well known. This Shore’s wife had been before a concubine to king Edward, and afterwards was kept by the same lord Hastings. Moreover, here is to be noted, that by the consent of the said lord Hastings, the cruel protector had devised, about the same time, the kindred of the queen innocently to be beheaded at Pomfret, of mere despite and hatred. Wherefore, this punishment not undeservedly, by the just hand of God, fell upon the lord Hastings. It followeth then more in the story, that when the lord Hastings had heard of these false accusations of the tyrant, which he knew to be untrue; “Certainly, my lord,” said he, “if they have so done, they be worthy of heinous punishment.” “Why,” quoth the protector, “dost thou serve me with if , and with and ? I tell thee, they have so done, and that I will make good on thy body, traitor;” and therewith giving a great rap on the board (for a token or a watchword), one without cried ‘treason,’ and forthwith the chamber was full of harnessed men. The protector then, approaching to the lord Hastings, arrested him as a traitor. Another let fly at the lord Stanley; who, to avoid the blow, shrunk under the table, or else his head had been cleft asunder; notwithstanding he received such a wound, that the blood ran about his ears. There were in that council at the same time the archbishop of York, and doctor Morton, bishop of Ely (by whose procurement, afterwards, king Henry VII. was sent for into England, and he made archbishop, after that, of Canterbury); these, with the lord Stanley, diversly were bestowed in divers chambers. The lord Hastings was commanded to speed and shrieve him apace, for before dinner, the protector sware by St. Paul, that he should die. And so incontinently, without further judgment, his head was stricken off, by whose counsel the queen’s kindred were, at the same time and day, beheaded at Pomfret. After this tyrannous murder accomplished, the mischievous protector, aspiring still to the crown, to set his devices forward, first, through gifts and fair promises, did suborn doctor Shaw, a famous preacher then in London, at Paul’s Cross to insinuate to the people, that neither king Edward with his sons, nor the duke of Clarence were lawfully begotten, nor the very children of the duke of York; but begotten, unlawfully by other persons, in adultery, on the duchess their mother, and that he alone was the true and only lawful heir of the duke of York. Moreover, to declare and to signify to the audience, that king Edward was never lawfully married to the queen, but his wife before was dame Elizabeth Lucy, and so the two children of king Edward to be base and bastards, and therefore the title of the crown most rightly to pertain unto the lord protector. Thus this false flatterer and loud lying preacher, to serve the protector’s humor, shamed not most impudently to abuse that holy place, that reverend auditory, and the sacred word of God, taking for his theme, “Adulterae plantationes non dabunt redices altus,” etc., which he most impiously did apply against the innocent children, and right heirs of the realm. Whereupon such grudge and disdain of the people with worldly wonder followed him, that for shame of the people crying out of him, in a few days after he pined away. When this sermon would take no effect with the people, the protector, unmercifully drowned in ambition, rested not thus, but within a few days after excited the duke of Buckingham, first to break the matter in covert talk to the mayor, and certain heads of the city, picked out for the purpose: that done, to come to the Guildhall, to move the people by all flattering and lying persuasions to the same, which shameless Shaw before had preached at Paul’s Cross. This the duke, with all diligence and helps of eloquence (being a man both learned and well spoken), endeavored to accomplish, making to the people a long and artificial oration, supposing no less but that the people, allured by his crafty insuinuations would cry: “King Richard!” “King Richard!” But there was no King Richard in their mouths, less in their hearts. Whereupon the duke, looking to the lord mayor, and asking what this silence meant, contrary to the promise of the one, and the expectation of the other, it was then answered of the mayor, that the people, peradventure, well understood him not: wherefore the duke, reiterating his narration in other words, declared again that he had done before. Likewise the third time he repeated his oration again and again. Then the commons, who before stood mute, being now in amaze, seeing this opportunity,, began to mutter softly among themselves, but yet no king Richard could sound in their lips, save only that in the nether end of the hall, certain of the duke’s servants, with one Nashfield, and others belonging to the protector, thrusting into the hall among the press, began suddenly, at men’s backs, to cry “King Richard,” “King Richard;” throwing up their caps: whereat the citizens, turning back their heads, marvelled not a little, but said nothing. The duke and the lord mayor with that side, taking this for sufficient testimony, incontinent came, blowing for haste, to the protector then lying at Baynard’s castle; where the matter being made before, was now so contrived, that forsooth humble petition was made, in the name of the whole commons, and that with three sundry suits, to the humble and simple protector, That he, although it was utterly against his will to take it, yet would, of his humility, stoop so low, as to receive the heavy kingdom of England upon his shoulders. At this their tender request and suit of the lords and commons made (ye must know how), the mild duke, seeing no other remedy, was contented at length to yield, although sorely against his will (ye must so imagine), and to submit himself so low, as of a protector to be made king: not much herein unlike to our prelates in the popish church, who when they have before well compounded for the pope’s bulls, yet must they for manner-sake make courtesy, and thrice deny that, for which they so long before have gaped, and so sweetly have prayed. RICHARD THE THIRD, THE USURPER. And thus Richard duke of Gloucester took upon him to be made and proclaimed king of England the year aforesaid, A.D. 1483, in the month of June: who then coming to the Tower by water, first made his son, a child of ten years old, prince of Wales, and John Howard (a man of great industry and service) he advanced to be duke of Norfolk, and sir Thomas Howard his son, he ordainer earl of Surrey. Also William lord Berkley was appointed earl of Nottingham. Francis lord Lovel was made viscount Lovel. Lord Stanley, for fear of his son, was delivered out of the Tower, and made steward of the king’s household: likewise the archbishop of York was set free. But Morton bishop of Ely, was committed to the duke of Buckingham, by whom was wrought the first device to bring in Henry earl of Richmond into England, and to conjoin marriage between Elizabeth, king Edward’s daughter, and him, whereby the two houses of York and Lancaster were united together. After the kingdom of England was thus allotted to king Richard the usurper, as in manner above remembered, he tarried not long for his coronation, which was solemnized the month next ensuing, the sixth day of July. The triumph and solemnity of this usurped coronation being finished, and all things to the same appertaining, this unquiet tyrant yet could not think himself safe, so long as young Edward the right king, and his brother, were alive; wherefore the next enterprise which he did set upon was this: how to rid those innocent babes out of the way, that he might reign king alone. In the mean time, while all this milling was in hand, what dread and sorrow the tender hearts of these fatherless and friendless children were in, what little joy of themselves, what small joy of life they had, it is not so hard, as dolorous, for tender hearts to understand. As the younger brother lingered in thought and heaviness, so the prince, who was eleven years old, was so out of heart, and so fraught with fear, that he never tied his points, nor enjoyed good day, till the traitorous impiety of their cruel uncle had delivered them of their wretchedness; which was not long in despatching. For after king Richard, their uncle, had first attempted to compass his devilish device by Robert Brakenbury, constable of the Tower, and could not win him to such a cruel fact (to die therefore), then he got one James Tyrell, joining with him John Dighton, and Miles Forrest, to perpetrate this heinous murder. Which Dighton and Forrest, about midnight entering into their chamber, so bewrapped and entangled them amongst the clothes, keeping down the feather-bed and pillows hard unto their months, that within a while they smothered and stifled them piteously in their bed. And thus ended these two young princes their lives, through the wretched cruelty of these forenamed tormentors, who, for their detestable and bloody murder committed, escaped not long unpunished by the just hand of God. For first Miles Forrest, at St. Martin’s-le-Grand, by piece-meal miserably rotted away: John Dighton lived at Calais long after, so disdained and hated, that he was pointed at of all men, and there died in great misery: sir James Tyrell was beheaded at Tower Hill for treason. Also king Richard himself, within a year and a half after, was slain in the field, hacked and hewed of his enemies’ hands, torn and tugged like a curdog. Furthermore, the said justice of God’s hand let not the duke of Buckingham escape free, who was a great maintainer and setter-up of this butcherly usurper: for less than within a year after, so God wrought, that he was himself beheaded for treason by the said king, whom he so unjustly before had advanced and set up. In the same catalogue and order of these wicked doers afore recited, we have also to comprehend two others, as well worthy of memorial as the best, or rather as the worst. The name of the one was doctor Shaw above rehearsed; the other doctor Pinky, provincial of the Austin friars; both famous preachers, and both doctors in divinity; both of more learning than virtue (saith the story), of more fame than learning, and yet of more learning than truth. Shaw made a sermon in praise of the protector, before his coronation. Pinky preached after his coronation. Both were so full of tedious flattery, that no good ears could abide them. Pinky, in his sermon, so lost his voice, that he was fain to leave off and come down in the midst. Dr. Shaw by his sermon lost his honesty, and soon after his life, for very shame of the world; so that he never durst, after that, show his face again. But as for the friar, he was so far past shame, that the loss thereof did little touch him. Mention was made a little before of doctor Morton, bishop of Ely, by whose means the device was first broached, for the conjoining of the two houses of York and Lancaster together. This device was first broken to the duke of Buckingham, which soon after cost him his life. But that bishop, more crafty, to save himself, incontinent fled into Brittany. Notwithstanding, the device, once broached, was so plausible and took such effect, that message was sent over the sea to Henry earl of Richmond, by his mother, and by the queen, mother to the lady Elizabeth, that if he would make his return, and promise to marry with the said lady Elizabeth, king Edward’s daughter, he should be received. To make a longer discourse of this matter which is sufficiently set forth by sir Thomas More, and so ornately, it needeth not. Briefly (to contract that in a small compass of words, which was not so small a thing in doing), after that the earl Henry, with such other banished men as fled out of England at the taking of the duke of Buckingham, had perfect intelligence by his mother, and by the queen and other friends more out of England, how the case of the realm stood, and how it was here purposed by his friends, that is, that he should with all convenient speed hasten his return over into England, promising to marry with lady Elizabeth; he, with all diligence, as time and preparation would serve, advanced forward his journey, being well helped and furnished by Francis duke of Brittany, and so shipped his men. Albeit his first voyage sped not; for that the winds turning contrary, by force of weather his ships were dispersed, and he repulsed back into France again. His second voyage was more prosperous, who, taking the seas at Harfleur, in the month of August, A.D. 1485, accompanied only with two thousand men, and a small number of ships, arrived at Milford Haven in Wales, and first came to Dale, then to Haverfordwest, where he was joyfully received, and also, by the coming in of Arnold Butler and the Pembroke men, was in power increased. From thence, he removed by Cardigan to Shrewsbury, and then to Newport, and so to Stafford, from thence to Lichfield, his army still more and more augmenting. Like as a great flood, by coming in of many small rivers, gathereth more abundance of water; so to this earl, divers noble captains and men of power adjoined themselves, as Richard Griffith, John Morgan, Rice ap Thomas; then sir George Talbot, with the young earl or Shrewsbury his ward, sir William Stanley, sir Thomas Burchier, and sir Walter Hungerford, knights. At last the said earl, hearing of the king’s coming, conducted his whole army to Tamworth. King Richard, first hearing of the arrival of the earl Henry in the parts of Wales after such a slender sort, did give little or no regard unto it. But after, understanding that he was come to Lichfield without resistance or incumbrance, he was sore moved, and exceedingly took on, cursing and crying out against those who had so deceived him; and in all post speed sent for John duke of Norfolk, Henry earl of Northumberland, Thomas earl of Surrey, with other his friends of special trust. Robert Brakenbury also, lieutenant of the Tower, was sent for, with sir Thomas Burchief, and sir Walter Hungerford, with certain other knights and esquires, of whom he partly misdoubted, or had some suspicious jealousy. Thus king Richard, after most forcible manner well fortified and accompanied, leaving nothing undone that diligence could require, set forward toward his enemies. The earl by this time was come to Tamworth, to whom secretly in the evening resorted sir John Savage, sir Bryan Sanford, sir Simon Digby, and many others; forsaking the part of king Richard, whom all good men hated, as he no otherwise deserved. The king, having perfect knowledge that the earl was encamped at Tamworth, embattled himself in a place near to a village called Bosworth, not far from Leicester, appointing there to encounter with his adversaries. Here the matter lay in great doubt and suspense concerning the Lord Stanley, 54 who was the earl’s father-in-law, and had married his mother, to what part he would incline. For, although his heart went, no doubt, with the earl, and had secret conference with him the night before, yet because of his son and heir George, lord Strange, being then in the hands of king Richard, lest the king should attempt any prejudicial thing against him, he durst not be seen openly to go that way where in heart he favored; therefore closely kept himself between both, till the push came, that his help might serve at a pinch. The number of the earl’s part exceeded not the one half of the side of king Richard. When the time and the place were appointed, where the two battles should encounter and join together, sore stripes and great blows were given on both sides, and many slain. If number and multitude might govern the success of battle, king Richard had double to the earl. But God is he, not man, that giveth victory, by what means it seemeth to his divine providence best. In what order, and by what occasion this field was won and lost, the certain intelligence we have not certainly expressed, but only the history of Polydore Virgil, whom sir Thomas More doth follow word for word; in which story it doth appear, that as these two armies were coupling together, king Richard, understanding by his espials where the earl of Richmond was, and how he was but slenderly accompanied, and seeing him to approach more near unto him, rather carried with courage, than ruled with reason, set spurs to his horse, and ranging out of the compass of his ranks, pressed toward the earl, setting upon him so sharply, that first he killed sir William Brandon the earl’s standard-bearer, father to the lord Charles Brandon duke of Suffolk, then after overthrew sir John Cheney, thinking likewise to oppress the earl. But, as the Lord by his secret providence disposeth the event of all things, as the earl with his men about him, being overmatched, began to despair of victory, suddenly and opportunely came sir William Stanley with three thousand well appointed able men, whereby king Richard’s men were driven back, and he himself, cruelly fighting in the thick of his enemies, was there slain, and brought to his confusion and death, which he worthily deserved. In the mean time the earl of Oxford, who had the guiding of the foreward, discomfited the fore-front of king Richard’s host, and put them to flight, in which chase many were slain, of noblemen especially above others: John duke of Norfolk, lord Fetters, sir Richard Radcliff, and Robert Brakenbury lieutenant of the Tower, etc. Lord Thomas Howard earl of Surrey there submitted himself, and although he was not received at first to grace, but long remained in the Tower, yet at length, for his fidelity, he was delivered and advanced to his recovered honor and dignity again. This king Richard had but one son, who, shortly after the cruel murder of king Edward’s sons, was taken with sickness and died. The wife of the said king Richard (whether by poison or by sickness) died also a little before the field of Bosworth, after whose decease, the story of Polydore and of sir Thomas More affirmeth, that he intended himself to marry the lady Elizabeth, his own brother’s daughter, and so to prevent the earl of Richmond. Moreover, as touching the Lord Stanley, thus reporteth the story, that king Richard being in Bosworth field, sent for the lord Stanley by a pursuivant, to advance forward with his company, and come to his presence: otherwise, he sware by Christ’s passion, that he would strike off his son’s head before dinner. The lord Stanley sent word again, That if he did, he had more sons alive. Whereupon the king immediately commanded the lord Strange to be beheaded; which was the very time when both the armies were within sight, and were ready to join together. Wherefore the king’s counsellors, pondering the time and the case, persuaded the king that it was now time to fight, and not to do execution, advising him to delay the matter till the battle were ended. And so, as God would, king Richard breaking his oath, or rather keeping his oath, for he himself was slain before dinner, the lord Strange was committed to be kept prisoner within the king’s tent; who then, after the victory gotten, was sought out and brought to his joyful father. And thus have ye the tragical life and end of this wretched king Richard. Henry, the earl of Richmond, after hearty thanks given to Almighty God for his glorious victory obtained, proceeded to the town of Leicester, where was brought to him, by the lord Strange, the crown, and put on the earl’s head. In the mean time the dead corpse of king Richard was shamefully carried to the town of Leicester, being naked and despoiled to the skin; and being trussed behind a pursuivant at arms, was carried like a hog or a dog, having his head and arms hanging on the one side of the horse, and the legs on the other side, all sprinkled with mire and blood. And thus ended the usurped reign of king Richard, who reigned two years and two months. 55 GOTO NEXT CHAPTER - LIFE OF FOXE INDEX & SEARCH
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