f231 CONTAINING The Bloody Doings And Persecutions Of The Adversaries, Against The Faithful And True Servants Of Christ, With The Particular Processes And Names Of Such As Were Put To Slaughter From The Beginning Of January 1557, And The Fifth Year Of Queen Mary.

THE ORDER AND MANNER OF THE CARDINAL’S VISITATION IN CAMBRIDGE WITH THE CONDEMNING, TAKING UP, AND BURNING OF THE BONES AND BOOKS OF MARTIN BUCER AND PAULUS PHAGIUS; ANNO 1557, JANUARY 9. F232 CARDINAL POLE, three years after his return into England, having somewhat withdrawn his mind from other affairs of the realm, and having in all points established the Romish religion, began to have an eye to the University of Cambridge, which place among others specially seemed to have need of reformation out of hand. To perform this charge were chosen Cuthbert Scot, not long before consecrated bishop of Chester, Nicholas Ormanet an Italian, Arch-priest of the people of Bozzolo, in the diocese of Verona, professed in both the laws, and bearing the name of the pope’s datary. Thomas Watson, elected bishop of Lincoln, John Christopherson, elected bishop of Chichester, and Henry Cole, provost of the college of Eton. There was good cause why the matter was especially committed to these persons; for as touching Ormanet, it is well known that he was a man of much estimation with Julius the third, at that time bishop of Rome, and was appointed to come into England with cardinal Pole, because without his knowledge (as in whom he put his chief trust and confidence) the pontiff would have nothing done that was of any importance or weight. * The residue were sent thither either for experience in matters of the university, or else they seemed of all others most meet to be put in trust with the handling of that ease, because they were taken for most stout champions and earnest defenders of the Romish religion, and of things appertaining to the establishment of the same. Some were of opinion that Scot, Watson, and Christopherson, busily procured this journey of their own heads, because there was grudge between them and divers of the university, at whose hands they thought themselves, lately before, to have received displeasure, and that now, time and occasion served to be revenged upon them, as they listed themselves.* These persons thus appointed (in the meanwhile as the visitors were addressing themselves to their journey) sent their letters with the cardinal’s citation before to Dr. Andrew Perne, vice-chancellor then of Cambridge, with the other commissioners associate, commanding him to warn all the graduates of the university, in their name, to be in a readiness against the 11th day of January, betwixt eight and ten of the clock, in the church of St. Mary the Virgin: *the same is the place of resort when there is any common assembly or meeting of the university, being not far distant from the marketplace of the said town of Cambridge; whither all men are summoned, if, at any time, there be any common-prayer or suffrages to be made, or if there be any man that hath ought to say in open audience:* willing him inespecially to be there himself in a readiness, and moreover to admonish a113 * all the residue, to whose charge it belonged, that they should search out all statutes, books, privileges, and monuments appertaining to the university, or to any of the colleges, or finally to any of themselves; and there to present the same before them at the day appointed, and every man to appear there personally: for they would not fail but be there at the same time, to lay before them such things as should seem necessary to this charge of reforming the university; and further to give charge of all such things as should seem most for the profit and behoof of the same, together with such things as were to be done on their part, according as should seem most agreeable to the decrees of the canon law.

This citation of the cardinal, being brought to Cambridge by master Bullock, was first exhibited in the convocation house of regents, and there openly read by the orator of the university the 11th of December. *These letters the vice-chancellor caused to be set up in places convenient. This reformation was looked for certain months before, but now, when it was once certainly known that it should be indeed, every man’s mind was marvelously moved. Some greatly rejoiced that the time was come, wherein they thought that they might not only freely speak, but also do what they listed against their adversaries, who, beforetimes, had rejected the baubles of the Romish bishop. Other some, perceiving in what peril they stood, looked narrowly about them how to wind themselves out of the briers. Many sought the good will and friendship of such as were known to be in favor with the terrible commissioners. Other certain made themselves guilty, and desired forgiveness of them at whose hands they themselves had taken wrong before.

There were also divers to be found, who, in time past, counterfeited to be very earnest embracers of the true doctrine, but, in their living and conversation, had greatly defaced it; applying to their own fleshly lusts, the liberty that appertained of right to the spirit, so that they thought it lawful to do what they listed. These men supposed there was no way but one to purge themselves of their misbehavior, namely, if they became accusers of those whose friendship they had erewhiles embraced: and to the intent to make men believe that they professed the Romish religion from the bottom of their hearts, and to curry favor with the commissioners, they promised to take upon them the order of priesthood without delay; for they knew the commissioners would like that very well, who already were in such wise minded, that as they would withhold no man from that order, that would offer himself thereunto, so would they by all means endeavor to bring every man thereto that was any thing witty or learned.* After this, upon the 24th of December, which was Christmas-even, the vice-chancellor with the heads of the houses, meeting together in the schools, it was there concluded, that the visitors’ charges should be borne by the university and colleges (which then cost the university a hundred pounds thick), and also that no master of any college should suffer any of the fellows, scholars, or ministers to go forth of the town, but to return before the visitation.

On Friday, the 8th of January, the queen’s commissioners, namely, Dr.

Perne, vice-chancellor, Dr. Segawick, Dr. Harry, master Frank, Rust, and another who is here nameless, also with sir James Dyer the recorder, master Chapman and Evered sitting together in the hall, certain were there called by the appointment of L. Hawes, and charge given what should be done. And first the commission was read.

Then were all the high-constables called to bring in their precepts, and sworn. Also two of every parish of ten or twelve hundreds, were sworn to inquire of heresy, Lollardy, conspiracy, seditious words, tales, and rumors against the king and queen. Item, For heretical and seditious books, for negligences and misdemeanor in the church, for observation of ceremonies, for ornaments, and stock of the church.

We said at the first, that the cardinal thought the university to have need of reformation. The reason why he should think so, was this; either because the same of long continuance, since any man could remember, had cast off the yoke of the bishop of Rome, and cleaved a114 to the wholesome doctrine of the gospel; or else by reason that both for the late schism, not yet worn out of memory, and for the doctrine of Martin Bucer, who not long before openly in the said university interpreted holy scripture, they saw so many so sore corrupted and spotted with this infection, that (even as when a fire is spread into a town) unless a speedy remedy were adhibited out of hand, it were not possible, to their thinking, to quench it many years after; who also feared (if it were not looked to in time) lest, *as it commonly cometh to pass in bodies diseased,* this mischief should take root, and by little and little infect all the members next unto it, which yet were whole and sound.

This was the year of our Lord 1556. To the intent therefore to make a salve for this sore, the inquisitors, of whom we spake before, came unto Cambridge the 9th day of January. And as they were yet on their journey, and, not far from the town, divers of the masters and presidents of the colleges met them, and brought them courteously, first into the town, and after to their lodgings. They were entertained in Trinity college by master John Christopherson, master of the same house, and lately before elected bishop of Chichester. Notwithstanding they were desired, a115 some to one place, and some to another, as occasion served, either to do their duties, or to show their good wills; Cole to the King’s college, and Dr.

Watson to St. John’s. But whether it were for the acquaintance of Christopherson, or for the largeness of the house, which, *forasmuch f241 as it was able to receive them all, seemed therefore most meet and convenient to take their conference in, and stood well for all comers to have access unto them,* they all took up their lodgings in the said college with master Christopherson.

At their coming thither an oration was made by a fellow of the house, who, in the name of all the rest, with long protestation declared that they were most heartily welcome thither; and that he and his fellows gave them great thanks, that it had pleased their lordships to have so good opinion of them, as to choose their house especially to lodge in, whereby they had both encouraged them to stand in hope of some further benevolence towards them, and also done great worship to their college by their being there: wherefore they should look at their hands again for as much duty and reverence, as lay in their power to perform.

To this oration Watson made answer, that this forward and earnest good will and mind of theirs in doing such courtesy, was right thankfully taken, both of him and his, exhorting them to continue steadfastly in the same, and to proceed also when need should require: for it was so far from any of their thoughts, to stop them in this their race, that they would rather haste them forward to run through more speedily, being not without good cause persuaded to conceive good hope of their benevolence towards them, inasmuch as they would do for them, whatsoever might turn to their profit and commodity. This day, forsomuch as it was toward evening ere they came, and the sun was going down, was nothing else done. The next day, being the 10th of January, they bestowed in recreating themselves after their journey, and in setting other things at a stay. Nevertheless, to the intent the same should not escape altogether without doing somewhat, they interdicted the two churches, namely, St. Mary’s, where master Bucer, and St. Michael’s, where Paulus Phagius lay buried.

These men were dead a good while before Paulus Phagius had scarce yet showed the proof of his wit and learning, when he departed to God, 1549.

Bucer lived but a little after. During which time somewhat by writing, but chiefly by reading and preaching openly (wherein the old man, being painful in the word of God, never spared himself, nor regarded his health), he brought all men into such admiration of him, that neither his friends could sufficiently praise him, neither his enemies in any point find fault with his singular life and sincere doctrine. A most certain token whereof may be his sumptuous burial, solemnized with so great assistance and gladness of all the degrees of the university, that it was not possible to devise more to the setting out and amplifying of the same the whole manner and order of the doing whereof being written by master Nicholas Carre, a learned man, in a little treatise to sir John Cheke, knight, with an epistle full of consolation as concerning his departure added thereunto, was sent afterward unto Peter Martyr, then abiding at Oxford.

From the burial of Bucer and Phagius, unto the coming of these visitors, were passed about three or four years, more or less. And from the time that that blessed king Edward the sixth deceased, unto that day, the priests never ceased to celebrate their masses, and other kind of ceremonies in those places, and that without scruple of conscience, as far as men could perceive. But, after the time that these commissioners came thither, those things that before were accounted for sacred and holy, began to be denounced for profane and unholy. For they commanded that all those assemblies that should hereafter be made for the executing of holy ceremonies, should be removed to the King’s chapel, which is a place far more stately than all the others.

Now was come the 11th day, in which the vice-chancellor of the university, with the masters and presidents of colleges, and all the other graduates of every house, were commanded to appear before the said commissioners in their habits. It was commanded that the scholars also should come in their surplices; but that was not done. They assembled in great number to Trinity college, having the university cross borne before them, and in the Gatehouse a form was set and covered, with cushions and carpet on the ground for the visitors; where the vice-chancellor, having on a tissue cope, sprinkled holy water on them, and purposed to cense them, but they refused it there; which notwithstanding afterward, in the Queen’s college and elsewhere, they refused not.

There master John Stokes, common orator of the university, *one of the popish superstition (for none other but such, in those days, might be promoted to any worship),* made an oration in the name of all the rest; the copy whereof I thought good here to exemplificate in Latin, as it was pronounced.

MASTER STOKES’S ORATION TO QUEEN MARY’S VISITORS AT CAMBRIDGE. ANNO 1557, JANUARY 11.

Academia, reverendi patres, in expectatione adventus vestri sollicita aliquandiu fuit; nunc praesentia dominationum vestrarum valde recreata libentissime vultus vestros intuetur, et ad apertam voluntatis suae testificationem ecce universa se suasque opes effudit. Convenit in hunc locum tota Cantabrigiae frequentia, adsunt onmes ordines, de quorum certa mihi et explorata ad hanc rem voluntate illud publica fide apud dominationes vestras affirmo, eos, et separatim singulos, et conjunctim omnes, optatissimum hunc adventum mirificis studiis et consentientibus animis gratulari.

Illud enim omnium animis habemus persuasum, et negotium hoc, quod hodierno die, favente Deo, excellentia vestra auspicatur, ad academiae rationes fore accommodum, neque in re ad communem salutem tam necessaria operam aliquando vestram nobis defuturam.

Permulta sunt ad hanc opinionem confirmandam, sed caetera non persequor: ea tanturn oratione attingam, quae ita intime cum praesenti negotio cohaerent, ut divelli ab eo disjungique nulla ratione possint. Atque sunt illa quidem numero certa et finita; verum re et virtute ita immensa, ut nulla dicendi facultate mea plene comprehendi possint: quoniam tamen ut antea sum professus summam esse academiae laetitiam, eamque justis de causis in adventu vestro susceptam, quaeso a vobis ut dum eas breviter recenseo, faciles mihi aures praebeatis.

Reverendissimus in Christo pater, cardinalis Polus, legatus, qui religionem oppressam restituit, patriae ruinas suffulsit, leges et decreta quasi postliminio reduxit, a116 iste inquam, iste Polus Anglus et vere noster Moses, legationis vestrae auctor est, a cujus excellenti virtute in omnes suae patrise partes plurima commoda dimanarunt. Quo vinculo necessitudinis, etsi omnibus temporibus optima ab illo sperare liceret, quod ex corpore simus ipsius reipublicae, arctior est tamen et interior causa, quae nobis cum dominatione illius separatim intercedit. Superiore anno academise procurationem in se humaniter recepit, quam liberari custodia ita coeptam tenere se velle literis significavit, ut non solum incommoda dimoveret, quibus studia nostra affligerentur, sed et ornamenta adjiceret ea, quorum splendore augeri dignitas aeademiae aut maxime illustrari posset. Quae res et spem antea nostram confirmavit, et nunc in earn cogitationem nos adducit, ut oranem illius humanitatem in hanc unam visitationem esse colleetam putemus, in qua quidem ea a vobis expectamus, omnia, quae summi cancellarii nostri insignis amor, praeter communem charitatem academise, quasi pupillae suse propriae pollicetur. Atque utinam quidem ipse sine reipublicae detrimento hoc tempore adesse posset, et academiam suam e tenebris et profunda nocte emersam ipse suis radiis, verae religionis splendore, illustraret! verum optioni nostrae publica utilitas repugnat, qua valde impeditus sanctissimae sedis apostolicae legatus vos vicarios substituit; quorum naturas propter providentiam, personas propter dignitatem, voluntates propter educationem, aptissimas ad hanc rem esse judicavit. Itaque illud vere et ex animis istorum omnium affirmare possum, vos eos esse viros quorum religionem amamus, virtutem colimus, voluntatem, fidem, et consilium ad publicam salutem impendimus. Postquam enim singulari et praestantissima virtute cardinalis Poli, legati, e superiorum temporum caligine et tenebris lucem in republica > respicere coepimus, una certe gravissima etiam superioris setatis mala sensimus, quibus profecto infinitis et miserrimis etsi antea premeremur, tamen ad calamitatis nostrae magnitudinem accessit ejusdem ignoratio, ut (mea quidem oninione] eo magis simus miserabiles judicandi, quod tam turbulenta tempestate jactati ne moveri quidem nos, tam gravi et periculoso haeresis morbo oppressi, aut aegrotare mentes nostras non intelleximus. Valde enim periculosa est aegrotatio illa, quaecunque sine doloris sensu naturam afficit, et affectos saepe prius extinguit, quam regrotare se fateantur. Ejusmodi morbo academia laborabat, quae ad alias fortasse res satis ingeniosa et solers, in hac religionis causa, propter caput ecclesiae laesum, unde omnis sentiendi vis est, omnino hebes, stupida, et sine mente fuit, quoad tertio ante hunc anno divina sanctissimi patris Julii clementia, Augliae fere emortuae miserata, iterum nos ecclesiae inserit, corpus sensusque recreat, cujus ope convalescens Britannia, quam certa gehennae pericula effugerit quivis facile intelligit. Idem academia cernit acutius, neque quicquam mali uspiam accidisse putat, quo nostra regio in hac religionis vastitate et schismate miserius fuerit afflicta. Non est opus recensere in hoc loco eversa monasteria, spoliata templa, strages sacerdotum, caedes nobilium, motus et tumultus populi, totius regni egestatem, quae etsi aliunde accidere possunt, tamen cure gravia sint ut opprimant, ultionis et vindictae potins quam probandi causa in malos et nocentes infligi putamus. Sed sunt ista fortunae ludibria; graviora sumus passi religionis et conscientiae detrimenta. Pietas in Deum omnis evanuerat, virginalis sacerdotum professio ad libidinem soluta est, animus quasi consopitus jacebat, quem nullae ceremoniae excitabant, ipsa mens opinionum veritate ita distracta, ita sibi ipsi dissentiens, ut infinitis erroribus implicaretur: in his erant duo praecipue fontes, ex quorum rivulis et hausisse academiam paulo liberalius, et illa potione refine inebriatam confitemur.

Prior ortum habebat ex illa nostri violenta divulsione a catholicae ecclesiae unitate, re non dissimili illius pugnae quam olim Menenius Agrippa, in intestina civium discordia, de corpore humano memorabat. Posterior ex immensa palude et coeno Wicleviano emanavit: quem celebris apud nos imo miserabilis de Sacramento Altaris disputatio patefecit. De cujus rei veritate plerique suo sensu abundantes pro arbitrio quisque suo statuerat. Nos philosophos, nec illos quidem optimos, imitati ex Epicureorum schola ad Scripturae lumen aliquid attulimus. Quod enim Christus omnino, praecise, et sine exceptione, de vera et perpetua sui corporis praesentia affirmarat (in cujus verbi veritate fundamentum fidel nostrae collocatur), id nos ita sumus interpretati, ut mancam et alienam Christi vocem judicaremus, nisi illa Epicuri propria particula ‘quasi’ a117 adderetur, et quod Christiani corpus et sanguinem, id nos quasi corpus et sanguinem diceremus. Sed non est istius temporis praeterita nimiam meminisse, quae utinam aeterna oblivione obrui possent, neque ulla tantae labis memoria ad posteros nostros propagetur! tamen fuerunt attingenda generatim quidem, quod erranti confessio salutaris sit: membratim vero, qnod academia his vulneribus a censoria potestate confecta, a censoria medicina ad salutem reduci postulat. Ipsa vero pro se et suis spondet omnes in authoritate vestra futuros, quos assiduis concionibus adeo ad poenitentiam edocuit, ut et eos ad sanam religionem fidissime transisse, et, in eadem, diligenti praesentis vitae usa superioris aetatis damna sarcituros putetis. Nam qui primi in hoc cursu sunt, acerrime contendunt in eo, quod tam voluntarie susceperunt: et qui pigrius egressi quasi pomeridianis horis ad hoc certamen accesserunt, ea certe praebent jam immutatae voluntatis indicia, ut quomodo temere et juveniliter a sana religione defecerunt, ita non nisi mature et cum judicio ab haeresi descivisse videantur.

Universis vero simul restituta et desiderata religio magis placere videtur, quam si assidue praecepta, neque ad tempus obscurata fuisset.

Quapropter academia supplex et prostrata primum a Deo immortali pacem et veniam petit, precaturque ab eo, ut hodiernum diem ad suorum salutem conservandam et rempublicam hanc constituendam illuxisse patiatur. Deinde pro se, pro suis, pro universis, pro singulis, hanc petitionem ad celsitudines vestras affert, ut superiorum temporum offensas ex errore et injustitia profectas praesenti hominum industriae condonetis. De reliquis vero pro summa prudentia vestra, et singulari in nos amore, eam sententiam feratis, ut suorum causas vel justitia vestra bonas inveniat, vel clementia bonas esse faciat. In utroque par erit beneficium, sive academiam pro causarum aequitate judicaveritis, sive pro amoris vestri abundantia innocentem eam esse volueritis. Nos pro referenda gratia summam in sacris modestiam, assiduam in litteris operam, perpetuum verae religionis amorem, sempiternam vestri beneficii memoriam, repromittimus.

THE ANSWER OF MASTER SCOT, BISHOP OF CHESTER, TO THE ORATION OF JOHN STOKES.

When master Stokes had made an end of speaking, the bishop of Chester answered thereunto as follows:

That they took in right good part, that the mother the university had made so open a declaration of her good will toward them; for the which he gave most hearty thanks, desiring her to perform, in deed and in her works, the things that she had so largely promised of herself in words and communication. As concerning their good wills, there was no cause to mistrust: for their coming thither was not to deal any thing roughly with such as fell to amendment; a118 but both the cardinal himself, and they also, were fully minded to show favor, devising how to bring all things to peace and tranquillity, desiring nothing more earnestly, than that they which have erred and gone astray, should return into the right path again.

The right reverend father, the lord cardinal, whom he wished to have been present, wished the selfsame thing also, desiring nothing so much as with his own hands to sustain and hold up, now ready to fall, or rather to raise up already fallen to the ground, the university, his ward for he gladly, taketh upon him the name and duty of her guardian — whom it greatly grieved that the infections of the times past had spread abroad so grievous diseases, that even the university itself was touched with the contagious air thereof.

For he would gladlier have come thither to visit and salute it, than to correct it, if the weightier affairs of the realm would have permitted it. But now, seeing he could not so do, he had appointed this commission, in the which he had assigned them to be his deputies, which, because they knew him to set so much store by the university, should extend the more favor to it; and (because they themselves had been there brought up) would the more earnestly embrace it. The chief matter that they came for tended to this end, that such as had erred should confess their faults, and return into the right way again: for they were in good forwardness of healing, that acknowledged themselves to have offended. And therefore it was wisely propounded on his part, that he would not altogether excuse the faults of the university, nor of other men, but [that they must] confess and acknowledge their crime, for that there were many things had need to be corrected and amended.

The cause why they were sent thither was to raise up them that were fallen, and to receive into favor such as were sorry and would amend, wherein, if (contrary to their expectation) they should not be able to do so much with some men as they would; yet notwithstanding, according to their duty, they would show themselves so diligent for their part, as that no lack might be found in them. For it was more openly known, than that it could be denied, that many men did divers things of a froward willfulness, and took stoutly upon them: wherewith as they were greatly moved and aggrieved (as reason was), so they coveted to remedy the mischief. Against whom if any thing should seem hereafter to be straitly determined, it was to be imputed to their own deserts, and not to the wills of them. Neither ought such as are whole and sound to be moved withal at the chastisement of others, forsomuch as it pertained not only to the wiping out of the foul blot which now sticked on the university, but also to the health of many others which had taken much hurt by the infection of them. For their own parts they more inclined unto mercy than rigor. Howbeit, considering that so great diseases could not by gentle medicines be healed, they were driven of necessity to use stronger. And yet if they would be contented to be brought again to their right minds, which thing they chiefly coveted (for they wished that all should amend and be led by wholesome counsel), and would yet at length wax weary of their errors, and instead of them frequent again the ancient customs of themselves and of their forefathers, they might boldly look for all kind of humanity and gentleness at their hands, in all this their business of reformation, which they had now entered and begun, requesting no more of the university, but to do as became them; which being performed, he promised that their benevolence, neither in any public nor in any private person’s case, should in any wise be behindhand.

These things being finished, they were brought processionaliter to King’s college, by all the graduates of the university, where was sung a mass of the Holy Ghost with great solemnity, nothing wanting in that behalf, that might make to the setting-forth of the same. In this place it was marked that Nicholas Ormanet, commonly surnamed Datary (who albeit he were inferior in estate unto Chester, being a bishop, yet was superior to them all in authority), while the mass was a celebrating, eft standing, eft sitting, and sometime kneeling on his knees, observed certain ceremonies, which afterward were required of all others to be observed, as in process hereof was to be seen.

From thence they attended all upon the legates to St. Mary’s church, which we declared before to have been interdicted; in the which place, forsomuch as it was suspended, although no mass might be sung, yet there was a sermon made in open audience by master Peacock in the Latin tongue, preaching against heresies and heretics, as Bilney, Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley, etc. The which being ended, they proceeded eftsoons to the visitation, where first Dr. Harry did, in the cardinal’s name, exhibit the commission to the bishop of Chester with a few words in Latin. Which being accepted, and by master Clerk openly read to the end, then the vicechancellor with an oration did exhibit the certificate under his seal of office with the cardinal’s citation annexed, containing every man’s name in the university and colleges, with the officers and all the masters of houses.

Among whom was also Robert Brassey, master of King’s college, a worthy old man, both for his wisdom and his hoar hairs; who, hearing his own name recited next after the vice-chancellor’s, said, he was there present, as all the others were: nevertheless, forsomuch as the reformation of his house was wholly reserved to the discretion of the bishop of Lincoln, not only by the king’s letters patent, but also by grant of confirmation from the bishop of Rome himself, under a penalty, if he should suffer any strangers to intermeddle, he openly protested in discharge of his duty, that unless their commission gave them authority and jurisdiction upon that college, either by express words or manifest sense, he utterly exempted himself from being present. This his exception they took all in great displeasure; alleging that they were fully authorized for the order of the matter by the cardinal, out of whose jurisdiction no place nor person was exempted: wherefore he had done evil to call into question their authority, so well known to all men. Chester seemed to be more moved with the matter than all the others; and that was because Brassey had a little before obtained the worship of that room, even utterly against his will, and maugre his head, do the worst a119 he could against him.

After the formal solemnity of these things thus accomplished, the commission being read, and the citation exhibited, all the masters of houses being only cited, every man for a while departed home to his own house, with commandment to be at the common schools of the said university at one of the clock the same day. When the degrees of the university, commonly called regents and non-regents, were assembled thither, they spent the rest of the day in reading over of charters, granted to the university by kings and princes, in searching out of bulls and pardons from the pope, and in perusing of other monuments pertaining to the university.

The next day following, being the 12th of January, they resorted to the King’s college to make inquisition, either because the same for the worthiness thereof was chief and sovereign of all the residue, or else because that that house specially before all others had been counted, time out of mind, never to be without a heretic (as they termed them) or twain.

And at that present time, albeit that many now of late had withdrawn themselves from thence, yet they judged there were some remaining still.

The order and manner how they would be entertained of every college, when they should come to make inquisition, they themselves appointed, which was in this sort. They commanded the master of every house, together with the residue, as well fellows as scholars, appareled in priestlike garments (which they call copes a120 ), to meet them at the uttermost gate of their house towards the town: the master himself a121 to be dressed in like apparel as the priest when he ravisheth himself a122 to mass; saving that he should put on uppermost his cope, as the rest did.

The order of their going they appointed to be in this wise: the master of the house to go foremost; next unto him, every man in his order as he was of degree, seniority, or of years. Before the master should be carried a cross and holy water to sprinkle the commissioners withal; and then, after that, the said commissioners to be censed. And so after this meeting, and mumbling of a few devotions, they determined with this pomp and solemnity to be brought to the chapel.

Many thought they took more honor upon them than belonged to the state of man. Others (forasmuch as at that time they not only pretended the jurisdiction of the cardinal, but also represented the power and authority of the bishop of Rome himself, who was accounted to be more than a mortal man) said, it was far less than of duty appertained to his holiness, in that the honor that was done to his legates, was not done to them but to his holiness. Now was the hour come, at which they appointed to meet; and being entered the King’s college-gate, where they looked for the master and fellows of the house, seeing no man came to meet them, they proceeded forth to the church-door, where they stayed. There, perceiving a123 how the master and the rest of the house were dressing themselves, as nearly as they could, in such gear as was appointed before, they come in suddenly upon them, before they had set out any foot out of their places.

Then the master first excused himself that he was ready no sooner, acknowledging that it had been his duty to have been in a readiness.

Secondly, he said he was very glad of their coming, promising first in his own name, and after in the name of all the rest, as much reverence as might be, in all matters concerning their common utility, the which he doubted not but should be performed at their hands, according to his expectation.

But like as he had done the other day in St. Mary’s church, the same exception he made to them now also; the which his doing he besought them not to be offended withal; for, seeing he did it only for the discharge of his duty, he had juster cause to be held excused.

He had scarcely yet finished his tale, but the bishop of Chester with a frowning look and an angry countenance interrupting him of his talk, said, he needed not to repeat the things he had protested before, nor they to make answer any more to those things wherein they had sufficiently informed him before. He rather feared that their quarrel was not good, that they made such ado about it, and sought such starting holes: for so were diseased persons oftentimes wont to do, when for the pain and grief, they are not able to abide a strong medicine. As though that any man were able to grant so strong a privilege, as to withstand the pope’s authority. As for the pope’s letters, he said, they must needs make on his side, and with such as were with him, and could not in any wise be alleged against him.

Therefore he admonished him to desist from his unprofitable altercation, and to conform himself and his to such things as then were in doing.

After this they went to mass: which finished, with great solemnity, first they went to the high altar of the church, and having there saluted their god, and searching whether all were well about him or no, they walked through all the inner chapels of the church. The church-goods, the crosses, the chalices, the mass-books, the vestments, and whatsoever ornaments were besides, were commanded to be brought out unto them. When they had sufficiently viewed all things, and had called forth by name every fellow and scholar of the house, they went to the master’s lodging, where first and foremost swearing them upon a book to answer to all such interrogatories as should be propounded unto them (as far as they knew), they examined first the master himself, and afterward all the residue, every man in his turn. But there were some that refused to take this oath, both because they had given their faith to the college before, and also because they thought it against all right and reason to swear against themselves: for it was contrary to all law, that a man should be compelled to bewray himself, and not to be suffered to keep his conscience free, when there is no manifest proof to be laid to his charge; but much more unjust it is, that a man should be constrained perforce to accuse himself. Nevertheless these persons also, after much altercation, at length (conditionally, that their faith given before to the college were not impeached thereby) were contented to be sworn.

Three days long lasted the inquisition there. This was now the third day of their coming, and it was thought that the case of Bucer and Phagius was delayed longer than needed: for they looked to have had much altercation and business about the matter. Now, forasmuch as the present state of the case required good deliberation and advisement, the vice-chancellor and the masters of the colleges assembled at the common schools, where every man gave his verdict what he thought meet to be done in this matter of Bucer. After much debating, they agreed altogether in this determination: that forasmuch as Martin Bucer, while he lived, had not only sowed pernicious and erroneous doctrine among them, but also had himself been a sectary and famous heretic, erring from the catholic church, and giving others occasion to fall from the same likewise, a supplication should be made to the lords commissioners, in the name of the whole university, that his dead carcase might forthwith be digged up (for so it was needful to be done), to the intent that inquisition might be made as touching his doctrine, the which being brought in examination, if it were not found to be good and wholesome, the law might proceed against him: for it was against the rule of the holy canons, that his body should be buried in christian burial. Yea and besides, that it was to the open derogation of God’s honor, and the violating of his holy laws, with the great peril of many men’s souls, and the offense of the faithful, especially in so difficult and contagious a time as that was. Wherefore it was not to be suffered, that they which utterly dissented from all other men in the trade of their living, laws, and customs, should have any part with them in the honor of burial. And therefore the glory of God, first and before all things, ought to be defended; the infamy (which through this thing riseth on them), with all speed put away; no room at all left unto those persons to rest in, who even in the same places where they lay, were injurious and noisome to the very elements, but the place ought to be purged, and all things so ordered as might be to the satisfying of the con-sciences of the weak. In executing whereof so notable an example ought to be given to all men, that no man hereafter should be so bold to attempt the like.

They gave the same verdict by common assent upon Phagius also. Unto this writing they annexed another, by the which they lawfully authorized Andrew Perne, the vice-chancellor, to be the common factor for the university. He was a man meetest for the purpose, both for the office that he bare, and also because that by the testimony of Christopherson he was deemed to be the most catholic of all others. This supplication, confirmed by the consent of all the degrees of the university and signed with their common seal, the next day, which was the 18th of January, the vicechancellor put up to the commissioners. Note here, good reader, what a feat conveyance a124 this was, to suborn a125 this man under a colorable pretense to desire this thing of them by way of petition: as who should say, if he had not done so, they would never have gone about it of themselves. But this gloze was soon found out; for the commissioners had given the vice-chancellor instructions in writing before. But peradventure they thought by this means to remove the envy of this act from themselves.

The vice-chancellor a126 came unto the commissioners, according to the appointment made the day before, about seven of the clock in the morning.

He had scarce declared the cause of his coming, but that he had not only obtained his suit, but also even at the very same time received the sentence of condemnation and a127 for the taking up Bucer and Phagius, fair copied out by Ormanet the datary himself. This was to be confirmed by the consent of the degrees of the university. Whereupon a solemn convocation, called “Congregatio regentium et non regentium,” for the same purpose was appointed to be at nine of the clock; where the graduates being assembled together, the demand was propounded concerning the condemnation of Bucer and Phagius, and the grace asked, which was this: “Pleaseth it you that Martin Bucer, for the heresies now recited, and many others by him written, preached, and taught, wherein he died without repentance, and was buried in christian burial, may be exhumate and taken up again?”

After this grace eftsoons being granted, then was the sentence of condemnation, drawn by the datary, openly read, and immediately another grace asked, that the same might be signed with the common seal; the which request was very lightly and easily obtained. And it was no marvel; for now after the death of king Edward, since the time that the government of the realm came to the hand of queen Mary, all such persons being driven away as had rejected the Romish religion (in whom well nigh alone rested whatsoever wit and learning were in the whole university besides), such a sort of rascals were put in their room, that all places now swarmed with unlearned and un-nurtured chaplains; to whom nothing was greater pleasure, than to cause all men to speak slander and reproach of Bucer.

There were divers yet left among them to speak against their demands. But they (because, as it commonly cometh to pass, that might overcometh right) could nothing avail. For this is a common custom in all such matters and ordinances, that look what the greater number decreeth, is published in the name of all; and that which the *more part disalloweth, a128 seemeth as though no man at all allowed it?

The next day, being the 14th of January, all the visitors (only Christopherson elect of Chichester, excepted) came to the King’s college; where, first going into the church, and there making their prayers at the greesings, they so proceeded into the stalls, there sitting all the mass time, the company standing in their copes, and singing a solemn respond in honor of the visitors. After the respond done, the provost in the best cope made to them his protestation, unto whom the bishop of Chester made answer also in Latin, declaring that he could not perceive to what purpose his protestation was, notwithstanding they would accept it and bear with him. Then went they to mass, which ended, the catholic visitors approached up to the altar, and took down the sacrament, and searched the pix, but first the two bishops censed the sacrament.

Then they went unto the revestry, and opened the chalices, corporas cases, and chrismatory, and viewed all those things. And so returning into the provost’s chamber, divided themselves in examination of the provost, vice-provost, and the rest of the company. The same day Dr. Bacon, master of Gonville-hall, bade the vice-chancellor, Dr. Young, Dr. Harry, Swinborne, Maptide, with others, home to dinner. These men, immediately after dinner, caused the common seal of the university to be put to the aforesaid instrument of condemnation, according as was determined the day before by the general consent of the graduates of the university. And by and by after, they carried the same to the commissioners to their lodging; the which when they had received, forasmuch as (after more diligent perusing thereof) it liked them not in all points, some things they rased out, some they interlined, other some they changed; so that in fine, they were fain to take the pain to engross it new again. *About this time almost, one of the King’s college (of the number of them that chanced to be there at such time as the commissioners took a view of the ornaments of the church, and of other things that the priests occupy in their ceremonies), hearing Ormanet call for the oil wherewith sick folk were wont to be annealed (the which, as it should seem, he had never seen before), after his departure, being desirous to see what gear it was, a129 came to the place; but it was kept under lock and key. Then he inquired where it stood: and when he saw where, he demanded to have a sight of the thick milk wherewithal (and a little oil) men were wont to be annealed. a130 When it was brought before him, and that he had well considered it, it was so rank a131 of savor, that he was fain to turn away his nose, bidding them make that milk into cheese, betimes, or else it would stink so that no man should be able to abide it. But ere it was long after, he bought that word dearly; for there never yet wanted some Doeg of Edom or other, to bear word of such things to Saul: for they had their spies in every corner, who ever crept in among company.

St. Mary’s church was not yet reconciled, nor the place purged from the dead bones and withered carcase of Martin Bucer; by means whereof, the trentals, obits, and anniversaries that were customably wont to be done for sir R. Read, knight, were appointed to be done at the King’s college, the commissioners being present at the same. The bishop of West Chester, or ever service was fully done, going out, called to him one of them that were there, whom he began to undermine with such kind of talk. “It is not unknown to thee,” quod he, “that the time draweth nigh, when Bucer’s carcase, according to the decrees of the canon law, must be digged up, and that which remaineth of him (to the intent all men may take ensample thereby) be put to fire (for so the holy canons have enacted), and the memorial of him be utterly condemned to oblivion for ever. Now, forasmuch as he was buried with great pomp and solemnity, we think it necessary that his burning be executed with no less solemnity and furniture. This assuredly is our meaning, and this toucheth all the degrees of the university; for it is a foul shame and not to be borne with, that so great reverence should be done unto heretics. Wherefore it behoveth every man by all means, to show evident tokens of the alteration of his mind, and it ought not to be thought a strange matter that this inquisition is extended upon a dead man; for if so be that in cases of high treason it be lawful to attaint a person that is dead, it standeth with reason that these persons, being more pestiferous and hurtful than those that are guilty of treason, should abide like judgment.

When they were buried, orations were made before the degrees of the university, and sermons preached to the people; the like thing now also, when they shall be burned, do we purpose to have. Now because I understand that thou art an expert orator, and canst handle thyself well in that feat, I would choose thee before all others to do the thing, which, forasmuch as it shall be greatly to thy praise and commendation, I know thou wilt not refuse to take upon thee: and, for my part, I assure thee, I have the gladlier called thee hereunto, because I covet thy preferment. There is but one in all the university, that, when he was a young man, was my pupil, Nicholas Carre by name, whom, for the good will I bear him in that respect, I will join fellow with thee in this matter; to the intent thou mayest well perceive thereby, that I commit this charge unto thee to do thee honor.”

The man, having this his oration in mistrust, answered in this wise: “He wished, with all his heart, that the judgment as concerning this case should be reserved to his betters, saying that he was not desirous of that honor; for men would not give credit to his words, neither was he able to devise what to say against so worthy a person, inespecially that might seem to have any likelihood in that behalf. For he knew not the man’s living and conversation; but, as far as he could gather by other men’s talk, he was a man of such integrity and pureness of living, that not even his enemies could find any thing blameworthy in him. As for his doctrine, it passed his power to judge of it, howsoever he were deemed to be of a corrupt religion; whereof he was not able to determine, considering it was a doubtful question among so great learned clerks. But this was manifestly apparent, that Bucer undoubtedly was a man of singular knowledge and dexterity of wit, which for him to abase, he thought it an intolerable unshamefacedness.

Finally, for the estimation of so weighty a matter, it was requisite to put some meeter persons to the defense of it; for, neither in years was he grave and ancient enough, neither in wit prompt nor ready enough, neither in eloquence sufficiently furnished to take that matter upon him: and, if so be that he were able to do any good, he might serve their turn in another matter.”

The bishop was still more earnest upon him: and when he saw it availed not to use this kind of persuasion with him, he fell into a rage, and at length bewrayed himself and all his pretense. For all this earnest entreatance was not to have had him say somewhat against Bucer (albeit it was part of his desire as occasion should serve), but to the intent that such as he suspected for religion should speak against themselves. And therefore he added moreover, saying: “Thou, at his burial, didst blaze and set him out marvelously with epitaphs and sententious meters, wherefore now also thou shalt neither will nor choose but speak in the contrary part; and this to do, I straitly charge thee in mine own name, and in the name of my fellow-commissioners.”

After many words the other answered, that no man was able to show anything of his doing; and, if any could be brought before him, he would condescend to satisfy their pleasure, otherwise he would not by any means be induced to speak against him. At length, when none of his writings could be showed, the bishop desisted from his purpose.

By this time, the sentence of condemnation was engrossed again;* to the signing whereof, a congregation was eftsoons called of all the graduates of the university against the next day, which there being read over, a new grace again was asked and granted for setting to of the seal *agayne*. a132 Then were the graduates dismissed, with commandment to resort forthwith to St. Mary’s church, whither the commissioners also repaired.

When they had taken their places, Dr. Harry presented to them before all the company, a new commission, to make request upon heresy, then newly sent from the lord cardinal, which was read immediately by Vincent of Noally, Ormanet’s clerk, with a loud voice, that all men might hear it.

This done, Dr. Perne, who, as ye heard, was factor for the university, exhibited to the commissioners in the name of the university the sentence of the foresaid condemnation; the copy and tenor whereof, hereafter (God willing) shall follow. This condemnation being openly read, then Dr. Perne aforesaid desired to send out process to cite Bucer and Phagius to appear, or any others that would take upon them to plead their cause, and to stand to the order of the court against the next Monday; to the intent that when they had exhibited themselves, the court might the better determine what ought to be done to them by order of law. *The sentence, by the common advice and consent of the degrees, he affirmed himself to have pronounced in the open assembly, as the order of law required.* The commissioners condescended to his request, and the next day process went out to cite the offenders. This citation Vincent of Noally, their common notary, having first read it over before certain witnesses appointed for the same purpose, caused to be fixed up in places convenient, to wit, upon St. Mary’s church door, the door of the common schools, and the cross in the market-stead of the same town. In this was specified, that whosoever would maintain Bucer and Phagius, or stand in defense of their doctrine, should at the eighteenth day of the same month, stand forth before the lord commissioners in St. Mary’s church, which was appointed the place of judgment, and there every man should be sufficiently heard what he could say. This commandment was set out with many words.

Shortly after, the matter drew toward judgment. Therefore the day next before the day limited, which was the 17th of January, the vice-chancellor called to him to Peter-house (whereof he was master) Dr. Young, Dr.

Segewick; and with them Bullock, Taylor, Parker, and Redman, Whitlock, Mitch, and certain others. These men cast their heads together how they might bear witness against Bucer and Phagius, to convince them of heresy.

For seeing the matter was brought in face of open court, and because it might so come to pass, that some patrons of their cause would come out, they thought it needful to have witnesses to depose of their doctrine: what came of this their consultation, it is not perfectly known. *The commissioners (for they were marvelous conscionable men in all their doings) had great regard of the expenses of every college a133 where they should make inquisition. Wherefore, to the intent that none of them should stretch their liberality beyond measure, or above their power, they gave charge, at the beginning, that there should not in any place be prepared for their repast above three kinds of meat at the most; the like order the cardinal himself, in a certain provincial synod, a134 appointed in his diets a little before, to all his priests and chaplains.

Therefore when they came to the Queen’s college, a135 the 18th day, to sit upon inquiry, and that one capon chanced to be served to the table, more than was prescribed by the order taken, they thrust it away in great displeasure. These thriving men that were so sore moved for the preparing of one capon, within little more than one month, beside their private reflections, wasted, in their daily diet, well nigh a hundred pounds of the common charges of the colleges; so that the university may worthily allege against them this saying of our Savior, “Woe unto you that strain out a gnat, and swallow up a camel.”* The very same day, the vice-chancellor, going in* to the inquisitors sitting at the Queen’s college, did put them in remembrance, that the same was the day in which, by their process sent forth the 16th day they had commanded to appear in St. Mary’s church, such as would take upon them to defend Bucer and Phagius by the law. He desired therefore that they would vouchsafe to sit there, if perchance any man would try the adventure of the law. They lightly condescended thereunto. When the vicechancellor had brought them thither, he exhibited unto them the process of the citation which he had received of them to publish a little before, saying, that he had diligently executed whatsoever the contents of the same required. After that they had taken their places, and that no man put forth himself to answer for the offenders, the judges called aside Dr. Young, Dr.

Segewick, Bullock, Taylor, Maptide, Hunter, Parker, Redman, above mentioned. Also Brown, Gogman, Rud, Johnson, Mitch, Raven, and Carre, who had before written out the burial of Bucer, with a singular commendation of him, and sent it to sir John Cheke knight. These men, taking first their oath upon a book, were commanded to bear witness against the heresies and doctrine of Bucer and Phagius. The 22d day of the same month was limited to this jury to bring in their verdict.

In the mean while, Ormanet and Dr. Watson abode at home in their lodging to take the depositions of them whom we showed you before to have been called to Peter-house, and to have communicated with the vice-chancellor as concerning that matter, whose depositions (as I told you) never came to light. The bishop of Chester, and Dr. Cole this day visited them of Katherine hall, where, as far as could be learned, nothing was done worthy of rehearsal.

As Ormanet the pope’s datary was sitting at Trinity college, John Dale, one of the Queen’s college, came to him, whom he had commanded before to bring with him the pix, wherein the bishop of Rome’s god of bread is wont to be enclosed. For Ormanet told them he had a precious jewel; the same was a linen clout that the pope had consecrated with his own hands, which he promised to bestow upon them for a gift. But Dale misunderstanding Ormanet, instead of the pix brought a chalice and a singing cake called the host, the which he had wrapped up and put in his bosom. When he was come, Ormanet *spake him courteously, demanding* if he had brought him the thing he sent him for: to whom he answered, he had brought it. “Then give it me,” quod he. Dale pulled out the chalice, and the singing cake. When Ormanet saw that, he stepped somewhat back as it had been in a wonder, calling him blockhead, and little better than a mad man, demanding what he meant by those things, saying, he willed him to bring none of that gear, and that he was unworthy to enjoy so high a benefit: yet notwithstanding, forasmuch as he had promised before to give it them, he would perform his promise. Whereupon with great reverence and ceremony, he pulled out the linen cloth, and laid it in the chalice, and the bread with it, commanding them both for the holiness of the thing, and also for the author of it, to keep it among them with such due reverence as belonged to so holy a relic.

About the same time the commissioners had given commandment to the masters of the colleges, that every man should put in writing what books he had, with the author’s names; and to the intent that every man should execute it without deceit, they took a corporal oath of them. *For they said, it was not lawful for any man to have, read, or copy out of those ungodly books of wicked heretics, written against the reverend sect of the catholics and the decrees of the most holy canons; therefore they should diligently search them out, to the intent they might be openly burned.

They said, they gave them warning of these things which they ought not to look for; for these things ought rather to have been done of their own free will, than extorted by force. Which thing not only the canons commanded, but also the most noble and worthy emperors Theodosius and Valentinian made in certain places decrees, as concerning the writings of heretics, and especially against the books of Nestorius.* This commandment some executed exactly and diligently; other some, forasmuch as they deemed it wrongful, executed it slack enough.

We declared before that the 18th day was limited for the day of judgment.

When the day came, and that neither Bucer nor Phagius would appear at their call in the court, nor that any put forth himself to defend them; yet the courteous commissioners would not proceed to judgment; which nevertheless, for their contumacy in absenting themselves, they might have done, considering how that day was peremptory. But these men, being bent altogether to equity and mercy, had rather show some favor, than to do the uttermost they might by the law. Whereupon Vincent published the second process, and set it up in the same places, as in manner before. The meaning thereof varied not much from the first, but that it put off the judgment day unto the 26th of the same month; upon the which day the vice-chancellor was sent for to their lodging, with whom they agreed concerning the order of publishing the sentence. And because there should want no solemnity in the matter, they commanded him further to warn the mayor of the town to be there at the day appointed with all his burgesses, which the vice-chancellor did speed with all readiness. *While these things were a working against Bucer and Phagius, in the mean while they foreslowed not to make inquisition in some places, as the matter required. Therefore, when as almost the same time they came into Clare-hall, and entered into the chapel, which was their ordinary custom to do first of all, wheresoever they came, they perceived there was no sacrament, as they call it, hanging over the altar. The which thing being taken in great displeasure, Ormanet, calling to him the master of the house, told him what a great wickedness he had, by so doing, brought upon himself and all his house: for, although he were so unwise to think it no shame at all, yet unto them it seemed an inexpiable offense. The old man being amazed and looking about him how he might answer the matter, while he went about to purge himself thereof, made the fault double: he said it was a profane place never as yet hallowed, nor consecrated with any ceremonies. At that word the commissioners were yet more astonied, demanding whether he himself, or any other, had used to sing mass there or no. When he had confessed that both he himself and others also had oftentimes said, mass there: “O thou wretched old man,” quoth Ormanet, “thou hast cast both thyself and them in danger of the grievous sentence of excommunication.” Ormanet, being sore moved at the beginning, searched the man narrowly: how many benefices he had? where they lay? by whose favor or license he held so many at once? what excuse he had to be so far and so long from them? for as it should seem he spent the most part of the whole year in the university, far from the charge that he had taken upon him. Swinborne was so sore astonied at this so sudden disquietness of Ormanet, that, being more disquieted himself, he was not able to answer one word, neither to these things, nor to an other things, appertaining to the state of his house. Wherefore one of the fellows of the house, that was senior to all the rest, was fain to take upon him the maister’s turn in that business. This was now the twenty-second day, which I told you was limited to the jury, Young, Segewick, etc., to give up their verdict; who nevertheless, during the time that the inquisitors sat in St. Mary’s church, neither appeared that day, nor put up any thing openly against them that were accused whether they objected any thing secretly against them or no, I am not able to say; for, by like oath they were prohibited a136 to publish their depositions, as they were bound to bear witness.

In this session nothing was done, saving that the vice-chancellor restored again the process for appearance, that he had received of them two days ago, the tenor whereof he said he had published, upon the contumacy of them that were cited, according as they had commanded him; whereupon he requested them to appoint the fourth day next following to pronounce the sentence of condemnation, which, without any difficulty, he obtained.

For I showed you before that so it was agreed among themselves; and yet these bloody butchers would, for all that, seem meek and merciful men; insomuch that they would seem to determine nothing of their own heads, before that this most filthy executioner of other men’s wicked lusts had earnestly sued to them for the same: as though no man had been able to espy out their colorable conveyance, or as if we had cast from us both our minds and eyes, that we should neither understand nor see their crafty packing. Even so they, setting a fair gloss upon all their doings, sought to bring themselves in credit with men, to the intent that, when opportunity should serve, they might to their own most advantage deceive men unawares. Surely they might, not in any wise seem to do those things which they were most chiefly bent upon, and therefore they sought all means possible to blear men’s eyes, that they should not see them; but they could not so escape unespied. About this time they sent out a commandment that the master of every college, by the advice of his house, should cause to be put in writing how much every house had of ready money, how much of yearly revenue, how much thereof had been bestowed about necessary uses of the college, how much went to the stipends of the fellows and the daily diet of the house, how much was allowed for other extraordinary expenses, how much remained from year to year, what was done with the overplus; with a due account of all things belonging to that purpose: the which thing because that for the strangeness and novelty thereof it should not make men to muse and break their brains about it, they said that, before them, the colleges of Eton and Winchester had done the like. The cause why they coveted to be certified therein, was for none other purpose but to the intent that they themselves might see whether that they, to whose charge the custody and administration of those goods were committed, had behaved themselves so truly and faithfully, as, by their oath, they were bound to do: this pretense made these diligent and curious stewards of other men’s goods. But it was known well enough that this was rather a feigned allegation than a true tale; for it was their mind a137 to search what power the Clergy was of: the which forasmuch as they which were the chief heads in this business made an assured account of, to have willing to take their parts; they coveted to know before hand, and to have in a readiness against all hazards and adventures of fortune. And no man ought to surmise that this conjecture is vain, or that it dependeth upon a light ground, considering what a deal of armor, what a deal of artillery and furniture for the wars, the whole body of the clergy, but in especially the prelates (who at that time bare all the sway), had laid up in store at home in their own houses, or else put in custody of their confederates; the which, forasmuch as they could be construed to tend to none other purpose than to open force (inespecially in so cankered a time as that was), is it not a good likelihood, that, to the same intent and purpose, inquisition should be made of the strength of the university, which itself, to the uttermost of her power, was ready to sustain any danger or burden for the maintenance of that filthy superstition? But God hath looked mercifully upon us and pulled their swords from our necks. But let us return to Bucer and Phagius.

Now was come the day of judgment:* which day, as I said, was the 26th of January, which being now come, first all degrees of the mother university were assembled. And to fill up this pageant, thither came also the mayor and his townsmen; and all met together in St. Mary’s church, to behold what there should be determined upon these men. After long attendance, at length the commissioners came forth, and went up to a scaffold that was somewhat higher than the residue, prepared for the same purpose. When they had taken their places, Dr. Perne the vice-chancellor, the player of this interlude, fashioning his countenance with great gravity, reached to them the process that was lately published, to cite them, saying these words: “I bring forth again,” quoth he, “to you, right reverend fathers, and commissioners of the most reverend my lord cardinal Pole,” painting out the rest of his style, “this citation executed according to the purport and effect of the same:” — omitting nothing for his part that might make to the commendation of this matter. When he had thus finished his tale, by and by the bishop of Chester, after he had a little viewed the people, began in manner as followeth.

THE ORATION OF DR. SCOT, BISHOP OF CHESTER, BEFORE THE CONDEMNATION OF BUCER AND PHAGIUS.

Ye see (quod he) how sore the university presseth upon us, how earnest intercession it maketh unto us, not only to denounce Bucer and Phagius, which these certain years past have spread most pernicious doctrine among you, to be heretics (as they be indeed), but also that we will command their dead carcases, which unto this day have obtained honorable burial among you, to be digged up, and as it is excellently ordained by the canon law, to be cast into fire, or whatsoever is more grievous than fire, if any can be. For the degrees of the university deal not slightly nor slackly with us in this case, but do so press upon us, and follow the suit so earnestly, that they scarce give us any respite of delay. And I assure you, albeit this case of itself be such, as that even the unworthiness of those persons (though there were no further cause), ought to induce us to the doing thereof; much the rather moved with these so wholesome petitions, it is meet and convenient we should grant it.

For howsoever we of ourselves are inclined to mercy in our hearts (than the which we protest there is nothing under the sun to us more dear and acceptable), yet notwithstanding, the very law riseth up to revengemerit; so that the common salvation of you all, which the law provideth for, must be preferred before the private charity of our minds. Neither ought any such negligence to overtake us for our parts, that we, being scarce yet escaped out of the shipwreck of our former calamity, should now suffer this unexpiable mischief to disquiet any longer the consciences of the weak. f261 Moreover, it is but reason that we should do somewhat at so earnest entreatance and suit of the university. I need not to speak much of ourselves; for if we had been desirous to enterprise this matter, it had been lawful after the first citation, to have proceeded to judgment: but because we were willing that their defenders should be heard, and that the matter should be denounced and tried by law, we sent out the second process.

If we had desired revengement, we might have showed cruelty upon them that are alive: of the which (alas! the more pity,) there are too many that embrace this doctrine. If we thirsted for blood, it was not so to be sought in withered carcases and dry bones. Therefore ye may well perceive, it was no part of our wills that we now came hither; but partly induced at the entreaty of the university; partly moved with the unworthiness of the case itself; but inespecially a138 for the care and regard we have of your health and salvation, the which we covet by all means to preserve whole and sound. For you yourselves are the cause of this business; you gave occasion of this confession, among whom this day ought to be a notable example, to remain as a memorial to them that shall come after, as in that which ye may learn not only to shake off the filth which ye have taken of these persons; but also to beware hereafter that ye fall no more so shamefully as ye have done. But I trust God will defend you, and give ye minds to keep yourselves from it.

As concerning the parties themselves, whose case now hangeth in law, they bare about the name of the gospel, whereas indeed they wrought nothing else than thievery and deceit. And so much the wickeder were they, in that they sought to cover so shameful acts with the cloak of so fair and holy a name. Wherefore it is not to be doubted but that God will punish this despite, of itself wicked, to you pernicious, by the authors thereof a139 shameful and abominable.

But if God, as he is slow to wrath and vengeance, will wink at it for a time, yet notwithstanding if we, upon whom the charge of the Lord’s flock leaneth, should permit so execrable crimes to escape unpunished, we should not live in quiet one hour.

When he had thus spoken, he recited the sentence out of a scroll, and condemned Bucer and Phagius of heresy; the form and tenor of which sentence, framed after the barbarous rude style of that church, thus followeth.

THE SENTENCE OF CONDEMNATION AGAINST MARTIN BUCER AND PAULUS PHAGIUS.

Nos Cuthbertus Dei et apostolicae sodis gratia episcopus Cestrensis, Nicolaus Ormanetus archiepiscopus plebis Bozolini Veronen. dioecesis, infra-scripti reverendi domini cardinalis et legati auditor, Thomas Watson decanus Dunelmensis, et Henricus Cole praepositus collegii Etoniensis, ad universitatem studii generalis oppidi Cantabrigiensis Elien. dioeces, visitandam, necnon ad in quibuscunque causis contra personas in eodem oppido Cantabrigiae et locis ei adjacentibus commorantes motis et movendls inquirendum et quomodolibet procedendum, et expresse ad corum, qui in haeresi decesserint, memoriam damnandum, per literas illustrissimi ac reverendissimi in Christo patris, D. Reginaldi — tituli Mariae in Cosmedin, S. Romance ecclesim presbyteri cardinalis, Poli nuncupati, sanctissimi domini nostri papae et sedis apostolicae ad serenissim. Philippum ac serenissim. Mariam Angliae regem et reginam et universum Angliae regnum de latere legati — commissam, sive delegati specialiter deputati, et ad hujusmodi peragendum sufficienti facultate muniti, Salvatoris et Domini nostri Jesu Christi nomine invocato, pro tribunali sedentes, et solum Deum qui justus est Dominus prae oculis habentes, per hanc nostram definitivam sententiam, quam de sacrae theologiae et juris peritorum consilio ferimus in his scriptis, in causa et causis, qua coram nobis inter vice-cancellarium et universitatem Cantabrigienses, denunciatores ex una parte, et iniquitatis filios quondam Martinum Bucerum et Paulum Phagium, natione Germanos, et in hoc oppido olim commorantes et decedentes, reos denunciatos de et super crimine haeresis notorie per eos, dum vixerint, incurso, rebusque aliis in actis causae et causarum hujusmodi latius deductis, ex altera parte, in prima versae fuerunt et vertuntur instantia, pronunciamus, sententiamus, decernimus, et declaramus praedictos — Martinum quidem Bucerum contra regulas et dogmata sanctorum patrum, necnon apostolicas Romanae ecclesim et sacrorum conciliorum traditiones, christianaeque religionis hactenus in ecclesia consuetos ritus ac processus (qui singulis annis die coenae Domini per Romanos pontifices celebrari et legi consueverunt, in quibus, inter alia, Wickleffistae, et Lutherani, et omnes alii haeretici, damnati, et anathematizati fuerunt), de sacramentis ecclesiae, praesertim circa illorum humerum, aliter quam sancta mater ecclesia praedicat et observat sentiendo et docendo; ac sanctae sedis apostolicae et summi pontificis primatum et authoritatem negando et publice damnando; et praesertim hunc articulum — “Quod ecclesia erret in fide et moribus” — hunc in publicis comitiis expresse defendendo, et illum verum esse definiendo, et determinando; ac multa alia tam per damnatae memoriae Johannem Wickleffe, et id maxime — “Omnia fato et absoluta necessitate fieri — ” et per Martinum Lutherum et alios heresiarchas proposita et damnata, quam a se etiam inventa et fabricata, falsa et haeretica dogmata credendo et sequendo; ac desuper etiam libros scribendo et imprimi faciendo, impressosque publicando, in illisque scripta etiam hic publice legendo et in publicis disputationibus defendendo; ac in pertinacia et obstinatione hujusmodi permanendo et decedendo, notorium non solum haereticum, seal haeresiarcham.

Paulum vero Phagium, qui (praeter alia qum haeresim sapiunt ab eo in suis scriptis prolata) impiae memoriae Johannem (Ecolampadium, ac Martinurn Bucerum praedictum, necnon Philippum Melancthonem, et Johannem Brentium, notorios et insignes haeresiarchas, et eorum doctrinam in ejus scriptis impressis et vulgo editis non solum probando, seal summis laudibus attollendo, se non solum haereticis favere, sed eorum falsis dogmatibus assentire, et ea credere et probare, ad eaque credenda alios inducere niti, manifeste se ostendit, et hinc pro haeretico communiter et notorie habitus et reputatus in hujusmodi errore impoenitens decessit, non solum haereticorum fautorem, seal haereticum fuisse. Necnon eosdem Martinum Bucerum et Paulum Phagium excommunicationis et anathematis, ac alias quascunque contra hujusmodi personas, tam de jure communi quam per literas processuum praedictorum, statutas sententias, censuras, et poenas damnabiliter incidisse et incurrisse; et eorum memoriam condemnandam esse, et condemnamus; ac eorum corpora et ossa quae hoc tempore perniciosissimi schismatis, et aliarum haeresium in hoc regno vigentium, ecclesiasticae fuerunt temere tradita sepulturae, quatenus ab aliis fidelium corporibus et ossibus discerni possunt, juxta canonicas sanctiones exhumanda et procul ab ecclesia projicienda, et exhumari et projici mandamus; et eorum libros ac Scripturas, si quae hic reperiantur, publice comburendos et comburi praecipimus: ac eosdem libros et Scripturas quibuscunque, tam hujus universitatis quam oppidi et locorum eis adjacentium, personis, sub poenis, tam ex jure communi quam literis processuum praedictorum seu quomodolibet alias, contra habentes et legentes libros haereticos statutis, interdicimus.

After the sentence thus read, the bishop commanded their bodies to be digged out of their graves, and being degraded from holy orders, delivered them into the hands of the secular power: for it was not lawful for such innocent persons as they were, abhorring from all bloodshed, and detesting all desire of murder, to put any man to death! *Oh unworthy and abominable act! for which the university shall never be able to make satisfaction. How unworthy a thing was it, to do all the spite that might be to him being dead, to whom, being alive, she exhibited all the honor and reverence she could devise! How intolerable a thing was it to detest and abhor him as a wicked deceiver and leader out of the right way, being dead, whom, in his lifetime, she had followed and reverenced with all humility and obeisance, as her master and chief guide of* her life! What a monstrous thing is it not to spare him when he was dead, who, during his lift, being aged and always sickly, yet never spared himself, to the intent he might profit them! Nothing grieved him more, all the time he lay sick and bedred, than that he was unprofitable both to them and to the church of God; and yet when he was deceased, he neither found obedience among his disciples nor burial among christian men. If manhood and reason could not have obtained so much at our hands, as to spare his memorial or reverence his ashes, yet nature and the common law of all nations (by the which, upon promise made by the body of the realm, he came hither), ought to have withheld this so great cruelty and extreme barbarousness, or savageness, from his bones. Notwithstanding this infamy of the university so openly gotten, Andrew Perne, with his slanderous talk, more increased;* for, over and besides this oration and sentence of Dr. Scot, came in also Perne, vicechancellor, with his sermon which he made before the people, tending to the same effect, to the depraving of master Bucer, taking for his theme, the place of Psalm 133, “Behold how good and pleasant a thing it is,” etc.

THE EFFECT OF DR. PERNE’S SERMON AGAINST MARTIN BUCER.

Where, beginning first with the commendation of concord, and of the mutual knitting together of the minds, he alleged, that it was not possible to hold together, unless the concord were derived out of the head, the which he made to be the bishop of Rome, and that it also rested in the same.

After he had made a long protestation hereof, he passed forth to Bucer, upon whom he made such a shameful railing,* that it is not possible to defame a man more than he did,* saying, that his doctrine gave occasion of division in the commonwealth; and that there was not so grievous a mischief; which by his means had not been brought into the realm.

Although all men might perceive by the books he had compiled, what manner of doctrine it was; yet notwithstanding (he said) he knew it more perfectly himself, than any did, and that he had learned it apart at the author’s hand himself. For at such time as they had communication secretly among themselves, Bucer (said he) would oftentimes wish he might be called by some other name, than by the name he had; for this purpose, as though knowing himself guilty of so grievous a crime, he might by this means escape unknown to the world, and avoid the talk that went among men of him.

Moreover, among other things he told how Bucer held opinion (which thing he should confess to him his own self), that God was the author and wellspring, not only of good, but also of evil; and that whatsoever was of that sort, flowed from him, as from the head-spring and maker thereof. The which doctrine he upheld to be sincere; howbeit, for offending divers men’s consciences, he durst not put it into men’s heads.

Many other things he patched together of like purport and effect, as of the supremacy of the bishop of Rome, of the marriage of priests, of divorcements; and of shameful usury also, as though he had deemed the same lawful to be used among christian people, with divers other of the like sort. In all which his allegations, considering how lewdly, without all shame, he lied upon Bucer (as his writings evidently declare), he did not so much hinder his name with railing upon him, as win unto himself an inexpiable infamy, by forging so shameful leasings upon so worthy a man.

But what needeth witness to prove him a liar? his own conscience shall make as much against him, as a number of men. It was reported for a truth, and that by his own familiar friends testified, that the said Dr. Perne himself, either immediately after his sermon, or else somewhat before he went to it, striking himself on the breast, and in manner weeping, wished (at home at his house) with all his heart, that God would grant his soul might even then presently depart and remain with Bucer’s. For he knew well enough that his life was such, that if any man’s soul were worthy of heaven, he thought his inespecially to be most worthy.

Whiles he was thus talking to the people, in the mean time the leaves of the church doors were covered over with verses, a140 in the which the young men, to show their folly, which scarce knew him by sight, blazed Bucer’s name with most reproachful poetry. *Divers also that were somewhat more grown in years, and yet more fools than the young men, like eager curs (who had been well served if their legs had been broken for their labor), barked all that they could against him.

And to the intent it might seem to be done by a great number, wherein the papists greatly vaunt themselves, they enticed unto the same business many that by all means favored Bucer, and that reverenced his name, as it became them; who notwithstanding, to the intent that under this pretext they might escape their cruelty, full sore against their wills, faintly and slenderly pricked at him?

These things being despatched, Perne (as though he had sped his matter marvelously well) was, for his labor, of courtesy bidden to dinner to Trinity college by the commissioners; where, after the table was taken up, they caused the sentence of condemnation to be copied out with all speed: which, being signed with the bishop of Chester’s seal, the next day following was for a triumph sent to London, with divers of those verses and slanderous libels. Besides these, they sent also their own letters, wherein they both advertised the cardinal how far they had proceeded in that matter, and also desired his grace, that he would cause to be sent out of hand to Smith the mayor of the town, the commandment, commonly called a writ, for the burning of heretics. For unless he had the queen’s warrant to save him harmless, he would not have to do in the matter; and that which remained to be done in that case, could not be despatched till that warrant came.

While this pursuivant went on his journey, they willed to be brought unto them the books that they commanded before to be searched out: for they determined to throw them into the fire with Bucer and Phagius.

About the same time Dr. Watson, taking occasion upon the day, because it was a high feast, in the which was wont to be celebrated the memorial of the purification of the blessed Virgin, made a sermon to the people upon that psalm, “We have received thy mercy, O Lord, in the midst of thy temple,” etc.; in the which sermon he spake much reproach of Bucer and Phagius, and of their doctrine.

THE EFFECT OF WATSON’S SERMON UPON CANDLEMAS DAY.

He said that these men and all the heretics of our time that were of the same opinion (the which for the most part, he said, had budded out of Germany), among other things which they had perniciously put into men’s heads, taught to cast away all ceremonies. Whereas, notwithstanding, the apostle himself commanded all things to be done in due order. And upon that deed of the blessed Virgin and Joseph, which was done by them as upon that day, it was manifestly apparent, that they with our Savior, being then a little babe, observed these rites and ceremonies for catholic men to teach.

For he said that they came to the temple the same time with wax candles in their hands, after the manner of procession (as they term it), in good order, with much reverence and devotion; and yet we were not ashamed to laugh and mock at these things with the heretics and schismatics.

As he was telling his tale of Christ, Mary, and Joseph, one of them that heard him, a pleasant and merry-conceited fellow, turning himself to him that stood next him; “and if it be true,” quoth he, “that this man preacheth, which of them I pray you ( if a man might spur him a141 a question) bare the cross before them? for that might not be missing in such solemn ceremonies.” Not only this man jested at the preacher’s folly, but divers others also laughed at his manifest unshamefacedness, in preaching these so vain and foolish superstitions.

While he was thus talking to his audience, John Christopherson, elected bishop of Chichester, being stricken with a sudden sickness, fell down in a swoon among the press; and with much ado, being scarce able a good while to come to himself again, in the mean time babbled many things unadvisedly, and as though he had been out of his wits. Some thought it came upon this occasion, because he had been greatly accused before the commissioners for mispending and misordering the goods of the college, and therefore was grieved with the matter, knowing that they had been offended with him by this, that Ormanet had canceled before his face a lease of his, by the which he had let to farm to his brother-in-law a certain manor of that college, because the covenants seemed unreasonable.

By this time was returned again the pursuivant, who (as we before told) was sent to London with the commissioners’ letters, and brought with him a warrant for the burning of these men. Upon the receipt whereof, they appointed the 6th day of February for the accomplishment of the matter; for it had hanged already a great while in hand.

Therefore when the said day was come, the commissioners sent for the vice-chancellor, demanding of him in what case things stood; whether all things were in a readiness for the accomplishment of this business, or no.

Understanding by him that all things were ready, they commanded the matter to be broached out of hand.

The vice-chancellor therefore, taking with him Marshal the common notary, went first to St. Michael’s church, where Phagius was buried.

There he called forth Andrew Smith, Henry Sawyer, and Henry Adams, men of the same parish, and bound them with an oath, to dig up Phagius’s bones, and to bring them to the place of execution. Marshal took their oaths, receiving the like of Roger Smith and William Hasell, the town- sergeants, and of John Capper, warden of the same church, for doing the like with Bucer. Smith, the mayor of the town, which should be their executioner (for it was not lawful for them to intermeddle in cases of blood), commanded certain of his townsmen to wait upon him in harness, by whom the dead bodies were guarded; and being bound with ropes, and laid upon men’s shoulders (for they were enclosed in chests, Bucer in the same that he was buried, and Phagius in a new), they were borne into the midst of the market-stead, with a great train of people following them.

This place was prepared before, and a great post was set fast in the ground to bind the carcases to, and a great heap of wood was laid ready to burn them withal. When they came thither, the chests were set up on end f267 with the dead bodies in them, and fastened on both sides with stakes, and bound to the post with a long iron chain, as if they had been alive. Fire being forthwith put to, as soon as it began to flame round about, a great sort of books that were condemned with them, were cast into the same.

There was that day gathered into the town a great multitude of country folk (for it was market day), who, seeing men borne to execution, and learning by inquiry that they were dead before, partly detested and abhorred the extreme cruelty of the commissioners toward the rotten carcases, and partly laughed at their folly in making such preparature: “for what needeth any weapon,” said they, “as though they were afraid that the dead bodies, which felt them not, would do them some harm? or to what purpose serveth that chain wherewith they are tied, since they might be burnt loose without peril? For it was not to be feared that they would run away.”

Thus, every body that stood by found fault with the cruelness of the deed, either sharply or else lightly, as every man’s mind gave him. There were very few (and those not of sound and wholesome religion) that liked their doing therein.

In the mean time that they were a roasting in the fire, Watson went into the pulpit in St. Mary’s church, and there, before his audience, railed upon their doctrine, as wicked and erroneous, saying, that it was the ground of all mischief that had happened of a long time in the commonweal.

THE PURPOSE OF DR. WATSON’S SERMON AGAINST BUCER AND PHAGIUS. “For behold,” said he, “as well the prosperity, as the adversity, of these years that have ensued, and ye shall find that all things have chanced unluckily to them that have followed this new-found faith; as contrarily all things have happened fortunately to them that have eschewed it. What robbing and polling (quoth he) have we seen in this realm, as long as religion was defaced with sects; the common treasure (gathered for the maintenance of the whole public weal) and the goods of the realm shamefully spent in waste for the maintenance of a few folks’ lusts; all good order broken, all discipline cast aside; holidays appointed to the solemnizing of ceremonies neglected; and that more is, the places themselves beaten down; flesh and other kind of prohibited sustenance eaten everywhere upon days forbidden, without remorse of conscience; the priests had in derision; the mass railed upon; no honor done to the sacraments of the church; all estates and degrees given to such a licentious liberty, without check, that all things may seem to draw to their utter ruin and decay. “And yet in the mean time, the name of the gospel was pretended outwardly, as though that for it men ought of duty to give credit to their erroneous opinions; whereas indeed there is nothing more discrepant, or more to the slander of God’s word than the same.

For what other thing taught they to remain in that most blessed and mystical sacrament of the body of our Lord, than bare unleavened bread? And what else do the remnant of them teach unto this day? whereas Christ by express words doth assure it to be his very body. How perilous a doctrine is that which concerneth the fatal and absolute necessity of predestination? and yet they set it out in such wise, that they have left no choice at all in things. As who should say, it skilled not what a man purposed of any matter, since he had not the power to determine otherwise than the matter should come to pass. The which was the peculiar opinion of them that made God the author of evil, bringing men, through this persuasion, into such a careless security of the everlasting eternity, that in the mean season it made no matter either toward salvation, or damnation, what a man did in this life. These errors (which were not even among the heathen men) were defended by them with great stoutness.”

These and many such other things he slanderously and falsely alleged against Bucer, whose doctrine (in such sort as he himself taught it) either he would not understand, or else he was minded to slander. And yet he was not ignorant, that Bucer taught none other things than the very same whereunto both he and Scot, in the reign of king Edward the sixth, had willingly assented, by subscribing thereto with their own hands. While he talked in this wise before the people, many of them that had written verses before, did set up others new, in the which, like a sort of water-frogs, they spewed out their venomous malice against Bucer and Phagius. This was the last act of this interlude, and yet there remained a few things to be done, among the which was the reconciling of two churches, of our Lady and of St. Michael, a142 which we declared to have been interdicted before.

This was done the next day following, by the aforesaid bishop of Chester, a143 with as much ceremonial solemnity as the law required. But that impartate god, whom Bucer’s carcase had chased from thence, was not yet returned thither again; neither was it lawful for him to come there any more, unless he were brought thither with great solemnity. As I suppose, during all the time of his absence, he was entertained by the commissioners at Trinity college, and there continued as a sojourner. For thither came all the graduates of the university, the 8th of February, of gentleness and courtesy, to bring him home again. Amongst the which number, the bishop of Chester (worthy for his estate to come nearest to him, because he was a bishop) took and carried him clad in a long rochet, and a large tippet of sarcenet about his neck, wherein he wrapped his idol also. Ormanet the datary had given the same a little before to the university, for that and such like purposes.

When this idol should return home, he went not the straightest and nearest way, as other folks are wont to go; but he fetched a windlass a144 about the most part of the town, and roamed through so many of the streets, that it was a large hour and more ere he could find the way into his. church again. (I believe the ancient Romans observed a custom not much unlike this in their procession, when they made supplications at the shrines of all their gods.) The order of which procession was this; the masters regents went before, singing with a loud voice, “Salve festa dies,” a145 etc. Next them followed the bishop of Chester; about him went Ormanet and his fellow-commissioners, with the, masters of the colleges, bearing every man a long taper-light in his hand. After whom, a little space off, followed other degrees of the university. Last, behind came the mayor and his townsmen.

Before them all went the beadles, crying to such as they met, that they should bow themselves humbly before the host. If any refused so to do, they threatened to send them forthwith to the toll-booth. Their god being led with this pomp, and pacified with great sacrificed hosts of Bucer and Phagius, at length settled himself again in his accustomed room.

Scot of Chester prayed with many words, that that day might be lucky and fortunate to himself, and to all that were present, and that from that day forward (now that God’s wrath was appeased, and all other things set in good order), all men should make themselves conformable to peace and quietness, namely f270 , a146 in matters appertaining to religion. After this, they bestowed a few days in punishing and amercing such as they thought had deserved it. Some they suspended from giving voices either to their own preferment, or to the preferment of any other. Some they forbade to have the charge of pupils, lest they should infect the tender youth (being pliable, to take what print soever should be laid upon them) with corrupt doctrine and heresy. Others they chastised wrongfully without any desert; and many a one they punished, contrary to all right and reason.

Last of all they set forth certain statutes, by the which they would have the university hereafter ordered. Wherein they enacted many things as concerning the election of their officers of the university, of keeping and administering the goods of the university, and of many other things. But especially they handled the matter very circumspectly for religion, in the which they were so scrupulous, that they replenished all things either with open blasphemy, or with ridiculous superstition. For they prescribed at how many masses every man should be day by day, and how many Pater-nosters and Aves every man should say when he should enter into the church; and in his entrance, after what sort he should bow himself to the altar, and how to the master of the house; what he should do there, and how long he should tarry; how many, and what prayers he should say; what, and how he should sing; what meditations others should use while the priest is in his Memento mumbling secretly to himself; what time of the mass a man should stand, and when he should sit down; when he should make curtsy, when exclusively, when inclusively; and many other superstitious toys they decreed, that it was a sport then to behold their superstitions, and were tedious now to recite them.

Moreover these masters of good order, for fashion’s sake, ordained that every man should put on a surplice, not torn nor worn, but clean, forbidding them in any wise to wipe their noses thereon; *and these are the things which we told you before, that some noted Ormanet, how devoutly he observed them in the king’s chapel. Al the which (under a great penalty to such as omitted them) were enjoyned commonly to al men alike.* These things thus set at a stay, when the commissioners were now ready to go their ways, the university, for so great benefits ( which she would not should be suffered a147 to fall out of remembrance many years to come), coveting to show some token of courtesy towards them again, * commenced a148 * Ormanet and Cole with the degree of doctorship; for all the residue (saving Christopherson, who now, by reason he was elected bishop, *had prevented* that degree) had received that honor before. Thus at length were sent away these peace-makers, that came to pacify strifes and quarrels, who, through provoking every man to accuse one another, left such gaps and breaches in men’s hearts at their departure, that to this day they could never be closed nor joined again together.

These commissioners, before they departed out of the university, gave commandment, that the masters of every house should copy out their statutes, the which, besides common ordinances, contained in them certain rules of private order for every house particularly. Swinborne (who as I said, was master of Clare-hall) being demanded whether he would have those things engrossed in parchment or in paper, answered, that it made no matter wherein they were written; for the paper, or slighter thing that were of less continuance than paper, would serve the turn well enough: for, he said, a slenderer thing than that, would last a great deal longer than those decrees should stand in force. Neither was the man deceived in his conjecture; for within two years after, God, beholding us with mercy, called queen Mary *(which princess the cardinal, and the rest of the bishops of England, miserably abused to the utter destruction of Christ’s church)* out of this life the 17th of November, anno 1558; after whom her sister Elizabeth succeeded in the kingdom; *the like of which princess a man shall not lightly find, in perusing the chronicles, to have reigned in many hundred years before*. She raised to life again the true religion, *being not only sore appalled and commanded to seek her a new dwelling place, but in manner burnt up and consumed to ashes; the which, after the time it once began to recover strength again, and by little and little to lift up her head, the filthy dregs of the Romish juggling-casts a149 began forthwith to melt away. Whereupon the church of God began to be edified again in England, the building whereof the Sanballats and Tobiases did not only as then hinder and waste, but, even at this day also (as Satan is a most subtle slanderer), work all the policies they can devise, that the truth (which is not dark unless men will be blinded willfully) should not come abroad and be seen in the light. While the broken and decayed places in this work were in repairing, it came to remembrance how the right reverend father, and sometime our schoolmaister, Martin Bucer, with Paulus Phagius, being taken with the violent tempest of the former times, were thrown down out of their standing which they had in the wall of this building; whom the most reverend fathers in Christ, Matthew Parker, now archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all England (who before, at his burial, preached honorably of him), and Edmund Grindall, bishop of London (who, among the rest that did him a150 that service, did help to bear him in his coffin to burial on his shoulders), and other both honorable and worshipful persons — among whom was Walter Haddon, master of the Requests to the queen’s highness, who made a funeral oration of the death of Bucer, being himself half dead — these having received commission of the queen’s majesty to make a reformation of religion in the university of Cambridge and other parts of the realm, decreed that they should be set in their places again. For the performance whereof, the foresaid right-reverend fathers addressed their letters to the vice-chancellor and the graduates of the university. Andrew Perne bare still that office; who, by his good will, could not abide to hear one word spoken as touching the full restitution of Bucer and Phagius. When he had perused these letters, he propounded the matter to the degrees of the university, whether it pleased them that the degrees and titles of honor, taken away from Martin Bucer and Paulus Phagius by the verdict of the whole university, should, by the same, be fully restored again; and that all acts done against them and their doctrine should be repealed and disannulled: the which demands were openly consented unto by all the graduates of the university. This was about the twenty-second day of July, in the year of our Lord 1560.

Albeit that this had been sufficient to restore them lawfully again, nevertheless forasmuch as it seemed not enough in consideration of the dignity of so worthy men, and in satisfaction of the duty of the university, they that were the chief doers in this matter called a congregation in St.

Mary’s church, at the last day of the same month saving one: in the which place consultation was had concerning Bucer and Phagius, not with so great furniture and gloriousness (which things the truth seeketh not greedily for), but with honest comeliness, to the intent to reconcile men’s hearts again. An oration was made by Acworth, the common orator of the university, whose words I will rehearse in order as he spake them.* THE ORATION OF MASTER ACWORTH, ORATOR OF THE UNIVERSITY, AT THE RESTITUTION OF MARTIN BUCER, AND PAULUS PHAGIUS.

I am in doubt whether I may entreat of the praise and commendation of so great a clerk (for the celebrating whereof, this assembly and concourse of yours is made this day); or of the vices and calamities, out of the which we be newly delivered; or of them both, considering the one cannot be mentioned without the other.

In the which times ye felt so much anguish and sorrow, my right dear brethren, that if I should repeat them, and bring them to remembrance again, I fear me, I should not so much work a just hatred in us towards them, for the injuries received in them, as renew our old sorrow and heaviness. Again, men must needs account me unadvised and foolish in my doing, if I should think myself able to make him which hath lived before your eyes a151 in praise and estimation, more famous and notable by my oration, which he, by his living and conversation, hath oftentimes polished.

But the wickedness of the times, which endeavored to wipe clean out of remembrance of men the name that was so famous and renowned in every man’s mouth, did much profit him: insomuch, that both in his lifetime all things redounded to his continual renown, and especially a152 after his decease, nothing could be devised more honorable, than with so solemn furniture and ceremonies, to have gone about to hurt the memorial of such a worthy man, and yet could not bring to pass the thing that was so sore coveted; but rather brought that thing to pass, which was chiefly sought to be avoided. For the desire that men have of the dead, hath purchased to many men everlasting fame, and hath not taken away immortality, but rather amplified and increased the same. By means whereof it cometh to pass, that he that will entreat of those things that pertain to the praise of Bucer after his death, cannot choose but speak of the crabbedness of the times past, upon the which riseth a great increase and augmentation of his praise. But his life so excellently set forth, not only by the writings of the clerks, Cheke and Carre, and by the lively voice of the right famous Dr. Haddon, uttered in this place to the great admiration of all the hearers, when his body should be laid into his grave to be buried; and after his burial, by the godly and most holy preachings of the right reverend father in Christ the archbishop of Canterbury that now is, and of Dr. Redman, the which for the worthiness and excellency of them, ought to stick longer in our minds unwritten, than many things that are penned and put in print; but also by the great assembly of all the degrees of the university the same day, in bringing him to his grave, and, the next day after, by the industry of every man that was indued with any knowledge in the Greek or Latin tongues; of the which, there was no man but set up some verses, as witness of his just and unfeigned sorrow upon the walls of the church: that neither at that time any reverence or duty which is due to the dead departing out of this life. was then overslipped, or now remaineth undone, that may seem to pertain either to the celebrating of the memorial of so holy or famous a person, or to the consecrating of him to everlasting memory.

We, at that time, saw with our eyes this university flourishing by his institutions, the love of sincere religion not only engendered, but also confirmed and strengthened through his continual and daily preaching. Insomuch, that at such time as he was suddenly taken from us, there was scarce any man that for sorrow could find in his heart to bear with the present state of this life, but that either he wished with all his heart to depart out of this life with Bucer into another, and by dying to follow him into immortality, or else endeavored himself with weeping and sighing to call him again, being despatched of all troubles, into the prison of this body, out of the which he is escaped, lest he should leave us, as it were, standing in battle-array without a captain, and he himself as one cashed, a153 depart with his wages; or, as one discharged out of the camp, withdraw himself to the everlasting quietness and tranquillity of the soul. Therefore all men evidently declared at that time, both how sore they took his death to heart, and also how hardly they could away with the misture of such a man.

As long as the ardent love of his religion (wherewith we were inflamed) flourished, it wrought in our hearts an incredible desire of his presence among us. But after the time that the godly man ceased to be any more in our sight and in our eyes, that ardent and burning love of religion by little and little waxed cold in our minds, and according to the times that came after (which were both miserable, and to our utter undoing), it began not by little and little to be darkened, but it altogether vanished away, and turned into nothing. For we fell again into the troublesomeness of the popish doctrine; the old rites and customs of the Romish church were restored again, not to the garnishment and beautifying of the christian religion (as they surmised); but to the utter defacing, violating, and defiling of the same. Death was set before the eyes of such as persevered in the christian doctrine that they had learned before. They were banished the realm that would not apply themselves to the time, and do as other men did. Such as remained, were enforced either to dissemble, or to hide themselves, and creep into corners; or else, as it were by drinking of the charmed cup of Circe, to be turned and altered, not only from the nature of man into the nature of brute beasts, but (that far worse and much more monstrous is) from the likeness of God and his angels, into the likeness of devils: and all England was infected with this malady.

But I would to God the corruption of those times, which overwhelmed all the whole realm, had not at least-wise yet pierced every part and member thereof; of the which there was not one but that (besides the grief that it felt, with the residue of the body, by reason of the sickness and contagion spread into the whole), had some sorrow and calamity peculiarly by itself.

And to omit the rest (of the which to entreat, this place is not appointed, nor the time requireth aught to be spoken), this dwelling-place of the Muses (which we call the university), may be a sufficient witness what we may judge of all the rest of the body; for certainly, my brethren, the thing is not to be dissembled, that cannot be hidden. We, applying ourselves to those most filthy times, have most shamefully yielded, like faint-hearted cowards which had not the stomachs to sustain the adversities of poverty, banishment, and death, which in our living and conversation kept neither the constancy taught us by philosophy, nor yet the patience taught us by holy Scripture, which have done all things at the commandment of others. And therefore that which the poet (although in another sense) hath trimly spoken, may well be thought to have been truly prophesied upon us: “The times and seasons changed be, And changed in the same are we.” Divers of them that were of a pure and sincere judgment as concerning religion, being driven from hence and distroubled, the rest that remained tasted and felt of the inhumanity of them in whose hands the authority of doing things here consisted; although, to say the truth, I have used a gentler term than behooved. For it is not to be accounted inhumanity, but rather immanity and beastly cruelty: the which when they had spent all kinds of torments and punishments upon the quick, when they had cruelly taken from such as constantly persevered, life, from others riches, honors, and all hope of promotion, yet they could not be so satisfied, but that incensed and stirred with a greater fury, it began to outrage even against the dead. Therefore, whereas in every singular place was executed a singular kind of cruelty, insomuch, that there was no kind of cruelness that could be devised, but it was put in ure in one place or other, this was proper or peculiar to Cambridge, to exercise the cruelty upon the dead, which in other places was extended but to the quick. Oxford burnt up the right reverend fathers, Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer the noble witnesses of the clear light of the gospel. Moreover at London perished these two lanterns of light, Rogers and Bradford; in whom it is hard to say, whether there were more force of eloquence and utterance in preaching, or more holiness of life and conversation. Many others without number, both here and in other places, were consumed to ashes for bearing record to the truth. For what city is there that hath not flamed, I say not with burning of houses and buildings, but with burning of holy bodies? But Cambridge, after there were no more left alive upon whom they might spew out their bitter poison, played the mad bedlam against the dead! The dead men, whose living no man was able to find fault with, whose doctrine no man was able to reprove, were by false and slanderous accusers indicted; contrary to the laws of God and man sued in the law; condemned; their sepulchers violated and broken up; their carcases pulled out and burnt with fire! A thing surely incredible, if we had not seen it with our eyes, and a thing that hath not lightly been heard of. But the heinousness of this wicked act was spread abroad as a common talk in every man’s mouth, and was blown and dispersed through all Christendom.

Bucer, by the excellency of his wit and doctrine known to all men, of our countrymen in manner craved, of many others entreated and sent for, to the intent he might instruct our Cambridge-men in the sincere doctrine of the christian religion, being spent with age, and his strength utterly decayed, forsook his own country; refused not the tediousness of that long journey; was not afraid to adventure himself upon the sea, but had more regard of the dilating and amplifying of the church of Christ, than of all other things. So in conclusion he came: every man received and welcomed him.

Afterward he lived in such wise, as it might appear he came not hither for his own sake, but for ours: for he sought not to drive away the sickness that he had taken by troublesome travail of his long journey; and albeit his strength were weakened and appalled, yet he regarded not the recovery of his health, but put himself to immoderate labor and intolerable pain, only to teach and instruct us. And yet toward this so notable and worthy a person, while he lived, were showed all the tokens of humanity and gentleness, reverence and courtesy that could be; and when he was dead, the most horrible cruelty and spite that might be imagined. For what can be so commendable, as to grant unto the living, house and abiding place, and to the dead, burial? or what is he that will find in his heart to give entertainment, and to cherish that person in his house with all kind of gentleness that he can devise, upon whom he could not vouchsafe to bestow burial when he is dead?

Again, what an inconstancy is it, with great solemnity, and with much advancement and commendation of his virtues, to bury a man honorably; and anon after to break up his tomb, and pull him out spitefully, and wrongfully to slander him being dead, who, during his lifetime, always deserved praise! All these things have happened unto Bucer, who, whilst he lived, had free access into the most gorgeous buildings and stately palaces of the greatest princes, and when he was dead, could not be suffered to enjoy so much as his poor grave: who being laid in the ground nobly, to his eternal fame, was afterward, to his utter defacing, spitefully taken up and burned. The which things albeit they did no harm to the dead (for the dead carcases feel not pain, neither doth the fame of godly persons depend upon the report of vulgar people, and the light rumors of men, but upon the rightful censure and just judgment of God), yet it reproveth an extreme cruelness and unsatiable desire of revengement in them which offer such utter wrong to the dead.

These persons, therefore, whom they have pulled out of their graves and burned, I believe (if they had been alive) they would have cast out of house and home; they would have driven out of all men’s company, and in the end with most cruel torments have torn them in pieces, being nevertheless aliens, being strangers, and being also fetched hither by us out of such a country, where they not only needed not to fear any punishment, but contrariwise were always had in much reputation, as well among the noble and honorable, as also among the vulgar and common people.

But yet how much more gentle than these men was bishop Gardiner, otherwise an earnest defender of the popish doctrine! who, against his own countrymen, let pass no cruelty whereby he might extinguish with fire and sword the light of the gospel; and yet he spared foreigners, because the right of them is so holy, that there was never nation so barbarous, that would violate the same. For when he had in his power the renowned clerk, Peter Martyr, then teaching at Oxford, he would not keep him to punish him, but (as I have heard reported) when he should go his way, he gave him wherewith to bear his charges. So that the thing which he thought he might of right do to his countrymen, he judged unlawful to do to strangers. And whom the law of God could not withhold from the wicked murdering of his own countrymen, him did the law of man bridle from killing of strangers, the which hath ever appeased all barbarous beastliness, and mitigated all cruelty. For it is a point of humanity for man and man to meet together, and one to come to another, though they be never so far separated and set asunder, both by sea and by land, without the which access there can be no intercourse of merchandise, there can be no conference of wits, which first of all engendered learning, nor any commodity of society long to continue. To repulse them that come to us, and to prohibit them our countries, is a point of inhumanity. Now to entreat them evil that by our sufferance dwell among us, and have increase of household and household-stuff, it is a point of wickedness. Wherefore this cruelty hath far surmounted the cruelty of all others, the which, to satisfy the unsatiable greediness thereof, drew to execution not only strangers, brought hither at our entreatants and sending for, but even the withered and rotten carcases digged out of their graves; to the intent that the immeasurable thirst which could not be quenched with shedding the blood of them that were alive, might at the least be satisfied in burning of dead men’s bones. These, my brethren, these, I say, are the just causes which have so sore provoked the wrath of God against us, because that in doing extreme injury to the dead, we have been prone and ready; but in putting the same away, we have been slow and slack. For verily I believe, if I may have liberty to say freely what I think (ye shall bear with me, if I chance to cast forth any thing unadvisedly in the heat and hasty discourse of my oration), that even this place, in the which we have so oftentimes assembled, being defiled with that new kind of wickedness, such as man never heard of before, is a let and hindrance unto us when we call for the help of God, by means whereof our prayers are not accepted, which we make to appease the Godhead, and to win him to be favorable unto us again.

The blood of Abel shed by Cain, calleth and crieth from the earth that sucked it up: likewise the undeserved burning of these bodies, calleth upon Almighty God to punish us; and crieth, that not only the authors of so great a wickedness, but also the ministers thereof, are impure, the places defiled in which these things were perpetrated, the air infected which we take into our bodies, to the intent that by sundry diseases and sicknesses we may receive punishment for so execrable wickedness. Look well about ye, my dear brethren, and consider with yourselves the evils that are past; .and ye shall see how they took their beginning at Bucer’s death, following one in another’s neck even unto this day. First and foremost, when we were even in the chiefest of our mourning, and scarcely yet comforted of our sorrow for his death, the sweating sickness lighted upon us, the which passed swiftly through all England and as it were in haste despatched an innumerable company of men. Secondly, the untimely death of our most noble king Edward the sixth (whose life in virtue surmounted the opinion of all men, and seemed worthy of immortality) happened contrary to men’s expectation in that age in which, unless violence be used, few do die. The conversion of religion, or rather the eversion and turning thereof into papacy: the incursion and domination of strangers, under whose yoke our necks were almost subdued: the importunate cruelty of the bishops against the Christians, which executed that wickedness, for making satisfaction whereof we are gathered together this day: these are the things that ensued after his death. But after his burning ensued yet grievouser things, namely, new kinds of plagues, and contagious diseases unknown to the very physicians, whereby either every man’s health was appaired, a154 or else they were brought to their graves, or else very hardly recovered. Bloody battles without victory, whereof the profit redounded to the enemy, and to us the slaughter with great loss.

The which things do evidently declare, that God is turned from us, and angry with us, and that he giveth no ear to our prayers, and that he is not moved with our cries and sighs, but that he looketh that this our meeting and assembly should be to this end, that forasmuch as we have violated their corpses, we should do them right again; so that the memorial of these most holy men may be commended unto posterity unhurt and undefamed.

Wherefore amend yet at length, my brethren, which hitherto, by reason of the variableness and inconstancy of the times, have been wavering and unsteadfast in your hearts; show yourselves cheerful and forward in making satisfaction for the injury you have done to the dead, whom with so great wickedness of late ye endamaged and defiled; not censing them with the perfumes of those odors and spices now worn out of use, and put to flight; but with a true and unfeigned repentance of the heart, and with prayer, to the intent that the heavenly Godhead, provoked by our doings to be our enemy, may by our humble submission be entreated to be favorable and agreeable to all our other requests.

When Acworth had made an end of his oration, master James Pilkington, the queen’s reader of the divinity lecture, going up into the pulpit, made a sermon upon Psalm 112, the beginning whereof is, “Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord.” Where, intending to prove that the remembrance of the just man shall not perish, and that Bucer is blessed, and that the ungodly shall fret at the sight thereof, but yet that all their attempts shall be to no purpose, to the intent this saying may be verified, “I will curse your blessings, and bless your cursings,” he took his beginning of his own person:

THE EFFECT OF DR. JAMES PILKINGTON’S SERMON.

That albeit he were both ready and willing to take that matter in hand, partly for the worthiness of the matter itself, and especially for certain singular virtues of those persons for whom that congregation was called, yet notwithstanding, he said, he was nothing meet to take that charge upon him. For it were more reason that he, which before had done Bucer wrong, should now make him amends for the displeasure. As for his own part, he was so far from working any evil against Bucer, either in word or deed; that for their singular knowledge almost in all kind of learning, he embraced both him and Phagius with all his heart. But yet he somewhat more favored Bucer, as with whom he had more familiarity and acquaintance. In consideration whereof, although that it was scarce convenient that he at that time should speak, yet notwithstanding he was contented, for friendship and courtesy’ sake, not to fail them in their business.

Having made this preface, he entered into the pith of the matter, wherein he blamed greatly the barbarous cruelty of the court of Rome, so fiercely extended against the dead. He said it was a more heinous matter than was to be borne with, to have showed such extreme cruelness to them that were alive; but for any man to misbehave himself in such wise toward the dead, was such a thing as had not lightly been heard of: saving that he affirmed this custom of excommunicating and cursing of dead folk to have come first from Rome. For Evagrius reporteth a155 in his writings, that Eutychius was of the same opinion, induced by the example of Josias, who slew the priests of Baal, and burnt up the bones of them that were dead, even upon the altars: whereas, before the time of Eutychius this kind of punishment was well near unknown, neither afterward usurped of any man (that ever he heard of) until a nine hundred years after Christ. In the latter times (the which how much the further they were from the golden age of the apostles, so much the more they were corrupted), this kind of cruelness began to creep further: for it is manifestly known, that Stephen the sixth, pope of Rome, digged up Formosus, his last predecessor in that see, and, spoiling him of his pope’s apparel, buried him again in a layman’s apparel (as they call it), having first cut off and thrown into the Tiber his two fingers, with which, according to their accustomed manner, he was wont to bless and consecrate. The which his unspeakable tyranny used against Formosus, within six years after, Sergius the third increased also against the same Formosus. For taking up his dead body, and setting it in a pope’s chair, he caused his head to be smitten off, and his other three fingers to be cut from his hand, and his body to be cast into the river of Tiber, abrogating and disannulling all his decrees; which thing was never done by any man before that day. The cause why so great cruelty was exercised (by the report of Nauclerus f277 ) was this: because that Formosus had been an adversary to Stephen and Sergius when they sued to be made bishops.

This kind of cruelty (unheard of before) the popes awhile exercised one against another. But now, ere ever they had sufficiently felt the smart thereof themselves, they had turned the same upon our necks. Wherefore it was to be wished, that seeing it began among them, it might have remained still with the authors thereof, and not have been spread over thence unto us. But such is the nature of all evil, that it quickly passeth into example, for others to do the like.

For about the year of the Lord 1400, John Wickliff was in like manner digged up, and burnt into ashes, and thrown into a brook that runneth by the town where he was buried. Of the which selfsame sauce tasted also William Tracy of Gloucester, a man of a worshipful house, because he had written in his last will, that he should be saved only by faith in Jesus Christ; and that there needed not the help of any man thereto, whether he were in heaven or in earth; and therefore bequeathed no legacy to that purpose as all other men were accustomed to do, This deed was done since we may remember, about the twenty-second year of the reign of king Henry the eighth, in the year of our Lord 1530. f278 Now seeing they extended such cruelty to the dead (he said), it was an easy matter to conjecture what they would do to the living; whereof we have had sufficient trial by the examples of our own men, these few years past: and if we would take the pains to peruse things done somewhat longer ago, we might find notable matters out of our own chronicles. Howbeit, it was sufficient for the manifest demonstration of that matter, to declare the beastly butchery of the French king, executed upon the Waldenses at Cabriers, and the places near thereabout, by his captain Mineflus, about the year of our Lord 1545, than the which there was never thing read of more cruelty done, no not even of the barbarous pagans. And yet for all that, when divers had showed their uttermost cruelty both against these and many others, they were so far from their purpose, in extinguishing the light of the gospel, which they endeavored to suppress, that it increased daily more and more. The which thing Charles the fifth (than whom all Christendom had not a more prudent prince, nor the church of Christ almost a sorer enemy) easily perceived; and therefore, when he had in his hand Luther dead, and Melancthon and Pomerane with certain other preachers of the gospel alive, he not only determined not any thing extremely against them, nor violated their graves, but also entreating them gently, sent them away, not so much as once forbidding them to publish openly the doctrine that they professed. For it is the nature of Christ’s church, that the more that tyrants spurn against it, the more it increaseth and flourisheth.

A notable proof assuredly of the providence and pleasure of God in sowing the gospel, was that coming of the Bohemians unto us, to the intent to hear Wickliff, of whom we spake before, who at that time read openly at Oxford; and also the going of our men to the said Bohemians, when persecution was raised against us. But much more notable was it, that we have seen come to pass in these our days; that the Spaniards, a156 sent for into this realm of purpose to suppress the gospel, as soon as they were returned home replenished many parts of their country with the same truths of religion, to the which before they were utter enemies. By the which examples it might evidently be perceived, that the princes of this world labor in vain to overthrow it, considering how the mercy of God hath sown it abroad, not only in those countries that we spake of, but also in France, Poland, Scotland, and almost all the rest of Europe. For it is said that some parts of Italy, although it be under the pope’s nose, yet do they of late incline to the knowledge of the heavenly truth. Wherefore sufficient argument and proof might be taken by the success and increasement thereof, to make us believe that this doctrine is sent us from heaven, unless we will willfully be blinded.

And if there were any that desired to be persuaded more at large in the matter, he might advisedly consider the voyage that the emperor and the pope, with both their powers together, made jointly against the Bohemians; in the which the emperor took such an unworthy repulse of so small a handful of his enemies, that he never almost in all his life took the like dishonor in any place.

Hereof also might be an especial example of the death of Henry, king of France, who, the same day that he had purposed to persecute the church of Christ, and to have burned certain of his guard whom he had imprisoned for religion, at whose execution he had promised to have been himself in proper person, in the midst of his triumph at a tourney, was wounded so sore in the head with a spear by one of his own subjects, that ere it was long after he died. In the which behalf, the dreadful judgments of God were no less approved in our own countrymen; for one that was a notable slaughter-man of Christ’s saints, rotted alive, and ere ever he died, such a rank savor steamed from all his body, that none of his friends were able to come at him, but they were ready to vomit. f280 Another, being in utter despair well nigh of all health, howled out miserably. The third ran out of his wits; and divers other that were enemies to the church perished miserably in the end. All the which things were most certain tokens of the favor and defense of the divine Majesty towards his church, and of his wrath and vengeance towards the tyrants.

And forasmuch as he had made mention of the Bohemians, he said it was a most apt example that was reported of their captain, Zisca; who, when he should die, willed his body to be flayed, and of his skin to make a parchment to cover the head of a drum. For it should come to pass, that when his enemies heard the sound of it, they should not be able to stand against them. The like counsel (he said) he himself now gave them as concerning Bucer; that like as the Bohemians did with the skin of Zisca, the same should they do with the arguments and doctrine of Bucer. For as soon as the papists should hear the noise of him, their gewgaws would forthwith decay. For saving that they used violence to such as withstood them, their doctrine contained nothing that might seem to any man (having but mean understanding in holy Scripture) to be grounded upon any reason.

As for those things that were done by them against such as could not play the madmen as well as they, some of them savored of open force, and some of ridiculous foolishness. For what was this, first of all? Was it not frivolous, ‘that by the space of three years together, mass should be sung in those places where Bucer and Phagius rested in the Lord, without any offense at all? and as soon as they took it to be an offense, straightway to be an offense, if any were heard there? or that it should not be as good then as it was before? as if that then upon the sudden it had been a heinous matter to celebrate it in that place, and that the fault that was past should be counted the grievouser, because it was done of longer time before. Moreover, this was a matter of none effect, that Bucer and Phagius only should be digged up, as who should say, that they only had embraced the religion which they call heresy. It was well known how one of the burgesses of the town had been minded toward the popish religion; who, when he should die, willed neither ringing of bells, diriges, nor any other such kind of trifles to be done for him in his anniversary, as they term it, but rather that they should go with instruments of music before the mayor and council of the city, to celebrate his memorial, and also that yearly a sermon should be made to the people, bequeathing a piece of money to the preacher for his labor. Neither might he omit in that place to speak of Ward the painter, who albeit he were a man of no reputation, yet was he not to be despised for the religion’s sake which he diligently followed. Neither were divers other more to be passed over with silence, who were known of a certainty to have continued in the same sect, and to rest in other church-yards in Cambridge, and rather through the whole realm, and yet defiled not their masses at all. All the which persons (forasmuch as they were all of one opinion) ought all to have been taken up, or else all to have been let lie with the same religion: unless a man would grant that it lieth in their power to make what they list lawful and unlawful, at their own pleasure.

In the condemnation of Bucer and Phagius, to say the truth, they used too much cruelty, and too much violence. For howsoever it went with the doctrine of Bucer, certainly they could find nothing whereof to accuse Phagius, inasmuch as he wrate nothing that came abroad, saving a few things that he had translated out of the Hebrew and Chaldee tongues into Latin. After his coming into the realm he never read, he never disputed, he never preached, he never taught; for he deceased soon after, so that he could in that time give no occasion for his adversaries to take hold on, whereby to accuse him whom they never heard speak. In that they hated Bucer so deadly, for the allowable marriage of the clergy, it was their own malice conceived against him, and a very slander raised by themselves: for he had for his defense in that matter (over and besides other helps) the testimony of pope Pius the second, who in a certain place saith, that upon weighty considerations priests’ wives were taken from them, but for more weighty causes were to be restored again: and also the statute of the emperor (they call it the Interim), by the which it is enacted, that such of the clergy as were married should not be divorced from their wives. f282 Then, turning his style from this matter to the university, he reproved in few words their unfaithfulness towards these men. For if the Lord suffered not the bones of the king of Edom, being a wicked man, to be taken up and burnt without revengement (as saith Amos), let us assure ourselves he will not suffer so notable a wrong done to his godly preachers, unrevenged.

Afterward, when he came to the condemnation (which we told you in the former action was pronounced by Perne the vice-chancellor, in the name of them all), being somewhat more moved at the matter, he admonished them how much it stood them in hand, to use great circumspectness, what they decreed upon any man by their voices, in admitting or rejecting any man to the promotions and degrees of the university. For that he which should take his authority from them, should be a great prejudice to all the other multitude, which (for the opinion that he had of their doctrine, judgment, allowance, and knowledge) did think nothing but well of them. For it would come to pass, that if they would bestow their promotions upon none but meet persons, and let the unmeet go as they come, both the commonwealth should receive much commodity and profit by them, and besides that, they should highly please God. But, if they persisted to be negligent in doing thereof, they should grievously endamage the commonweal, and worthily work their own shame and reproach. Over and besides that, they should greatly offend the majesty of God, whose commandment, not to bear false witness, they should in so doing break and violate.

In the mean while that he was speaking these and many other things before his audience, many of the university, to set out and defend Bucer withal, beset the walls of the church and church-porch on both sides with verses; some in Latin, some in Greek, and some in English, in the which they made a manifest declaration how they were minded both toward Bucer and Phagius. Finally, when his sermon was ended, they made common supplication and prayers. After thanks rendered to God for many other things, but in especial for restoring of the true and sincere religion, every man departed his way.

Forasmuch as mention hath been made of the death of the worthy and famous cleric, Martin Bucer, and of the burning of his bones after his death, it shall not be unfruitful, as the place here serveth, to induce the testimony or epitaph of Dr. Redman, which came not yet in print, upon the decease of that man.

THE EPITAPH OR FUNERAL VERSE OF DR. REDMAN, UPON THE DEATH OF MARTIN BUCER. Et tu livor edax procul hinc abscede, maligna Facessito invidentia, Et procul hinc Nemesis, procul hinc et Momus abesto, Labes luesque mentium, Daemonibus similes homines quae redditis, almam Foedatis atque imaginem Quam nostro impressit generi pater ille supremus, Similes sui dam nos creat.

Contemptrix odii et mendacis nescia fuci Adesto, sancta Veritas.

Dicito quis qualisque, elatum funere nuper Quem vidimus tam flebili? Est inquam misera hac defunctus luce Bucerus, Lux literati et dux chori, Doctrinae radios qui totum, solis ad instar, Misit per orbem splendidos.

Hunc dirae nuper sublatum vulnere morris Lugubre flet Gymnasium; Et pullata gemit maerens schola Cantabrigensis, Orbata claro sidere:

Ergo, quasi obstructo doctrinae fonte, querelas Precesque nunc fundit suas:

Agnoscit nunquam se talem habuisse magistrum Ex quo sit olim condita.

Non unquam cathedra gravisa est praeside tanto, Tam nobili et claro duce.

Cujus et ingenii et doctrinae munera summum Virtutis omarat decus, Integritas morum, gravitas, prudentia, sermo Semper Dei laudem sonans Et sale conditus, qualem vult esse piorum Apostoli sententia.

Accessit zelus fervens et praesule dignus, Peccata semper arguens.

Nunquam, desidiae aut languori deditus, ullum Indulsit otium sibi.

Credibile est nimio faturn accelerasse labore, Prodesse cunctis dum studet.

Sed frustra laudes angusto carmine nitor Tam copiosas claudere.

Ergo, Bucere, scholae et suggestus gloria sacri, Valeto etiam vel mortuus.

AEternum in superis foelix jam vivito regnis, Exutus etsi corporis Terrenis spoliis hujus miseri atque caduci, Quod est sepulchro conditum:

Christus depositum reddet cum foenore magno, Judex brevi quum venerit.

THE DESPITEFUL HANDLING AND MADNESS OF THE PAPISTS TOWARD PETER MARTYR’S WIFE AT OXFORD TAKEN UP FROM HER GRAVE AT THE COMMANDMENT OF CARDINAL POLE, AND AFTER BURIED IN A DUNGHILL.

And because the one university should not mock the other, like cruelty was also declared upon the dead body of Peter Martyr’s wife at Oxford, an honest, grave, and sober matron, while she lived, and of poor people always a great helper, as many that be dwelling there can right well testify. In the year of our Lord 1552 she departed this life, with great sorrow of all those needy persons, whose necessities many times and often she had liberally eased and relieved. Now when Brooks, bishop of Gloucester, Nicholas Ormanet, datary, Robert Morewen, president of Corpus Christi College, Cole and Wright, doctors of the civil law, came thither as the cardinal’s visitors, they, among other things, had in commission to take up this good woman again out of her grave, and to consume her carcase with fire, not doubting but that she was of the same religion that her husband had professed before, when he read the king’s lecture there. And to make a show that they would do nothing disorderly, they called all those before them, that had any acquaintance with her or her husband. They ministered an oath unto them, that they should not conceal whatsoever was demanded. In fine, their answer was, that they knew not what religion she was of, by reason they understood not her language.

To be short, after these visitors had sped the business they came for, they gat them to the cardinal again, certifying him that, upon due inquisition made, they could learn nothing upon which by the law they might burn her. Notwithstanding the cardinal did not leave the matter so, but wrate down his letters a good while after to Marshal, then dean of Frideswide’s, that he should dig her up, and lay her out of christian burial, because she was inferred nigh unto St. Frideswide’s relics, sometime had in great reverence in that college. Dr. Marshal, like a pretty man, calling his spades and mattocks together in the evening, when he was well whittled, a157 caused her to be taken up and buried in a dunghill.

Howbeit, when it pleased God under good queen Elizabeth to give quietness to his church, long time persecuted with prison and death, then Dr. Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, Edmund Grindall, bishop of London, Richard Goodrick, with divers others her majesty’s high commissioners in matters of religion (nothing ignorant how far the adversaries of the truth had transgressed the bounds of all humanity, in violating the sepulcher or grave of that good and virtuous woman), willed certain of that college in which this uncourteous touch was attempted or done, to take her out of that unclean and dishonest place where she lay, and solemnly, in the face of the whole town, to bury her again in a more decent and honest monument. For though the body being once dead, no great estimation were to be had, how or where the bones were laid; yet was some reverence to be used toward her for sex and womanhood sake.

Besides, to say the truth, it was great shame, that he which had traveled so far, at king Edward’s request, from the place wherein he dwelt quietly, and had taken so earnest pains (being an old man) in reading and setting forth the truth all he could, with learning to teach and instruct, and so well deserved of that university, should, with so ungentle a recompense a158 of ingratitude, be rewarded again, as to have his wife, that was a godly woman, a stranger, good to many, especially to the poor, and hurtful to none, either in word or deed, without just deserving, and beside their own law, not proceeding against her according to the order thereof, spitefully to be laid in a stinking dunghill.

To all good natures the fact seemed odious, and of such as be indued with humanity, utterly to be abhorred. Wherefore master; James Calfield, a159 then sub-dean of the college, diligently provided, that from Marshal’s dunghill she was restored and translated to her proper place again, yea, and withal coupled her with Frideswide’s bones, that in case any cardinal will be so mad hereafter to remove this woman bones again, it shall be hard for them to discern the bones of her, from the other. And to the intent the same might be notified to the minds of men the better, the next day after, which was Sunday, master Rogerson preached unto the people, in which sermon by the way he declared the rough dealing of the adversaries, which were not contented to practice their cruelty against the living, but that they must also rage against one that was dead, and had lain two years in her grave. God grant them once to see their own wickedness. Amen.

And thus much touching the noble acts and strangeness of this worthy cardinal in both the universities; whereunto it shall not be impertinent, here also consequently to adjoin and set forth to the eyes of the world; the blind and bloody articles set out by cardinal Pole, to be inquired upon, within his diocese of Canterbury; whereby it may the better appear what yokes and snares of fond and fruitless traditions were laid upon the poor flock of Christ, to entangle and oppress them with loss of life and liberty; by the which, wise men have to see what godly fruits proceeded from that catholic church and see of Rome. In which, albeit thou seest, good reader, some good articles interspersed withal, let that nothing move thee; for else how could such poison be ministered, but it must have some honey to relish the reader’s taste.

Here follow the articles set forth by cardinal Pole, to be inquired in his ordinary visitation, within his diocese of Canterbury.

CARDINAL POLE’S ARTICLES TOUCHING THE CLERGY.

First, Whether the divine service in the church at times, days, hours, be observed and kept duly, or no. 2. Item, Whether the parsons, vicars, and curates do comely and decently in their manners and doings behave themselves, or no. 3. Item, Whether they do reverently and duly minister the sacraments and sacramentals, or no. 4. Item, Whether any of their parishioners do die without ministration of the sacraments, through the negligence of their curates, or no. 5. Item, Whether the said parsons, vicars, or curates, do haunt taverns or alehouses, increasing thereby infamy and slander, or no. 6. Item, Whether they be diligent in teaching the midwives how to christen children in time of necessity, according to the canons of the church, or no. 7. Item, Whether they see that the font be comely kept, and have holy water always ready for children to be christened. 8. Item, If they do keep a book of all the names of them that be reconciled to the duty of the church. 9. Item, Whether there be any priests, that late unlawfully had women under pretensed marriage, and hitherto are not reconciled; and to declare their names and dwelling-places. 10. Item, Whether they do diligently teach their parishioners the articles of the faith, and the ten commandments. 11. Item, Whether they do decently observe those things that do concern the service of the church, and all those things that tend to a good and christian life, according to the canons of the church. 12. Item, Whether they do devoutly in their prayers pray for the prosperous estate of the king and queen’s majesties. 13. Item, Whether the said parsons and vicars do sufficiently repair their chancels, rectories, and vicarages, and do keep and maintain them sufficiently repaired and amended. 14. Item, Whether any of them do preach or teach any erroneous doctrine, contrary to the catholic faith and unity of the church. 15. Item, Whether any of them do say the divine service, or do minister the sacraments in the English tongue, contrary to the usual order of the church. 16. Item, Whether any of them do suspiciously keep any woman in their houses, or do keep company with men suspected of heresies, or of evil opinion. 17. Item, Whether any of them that were under pretense of lawful matrimony married, and now reconciled, do privily resort to their pretensed wives, or that the said women do privily resort unto them. 18. Item, Whether they do go decently appareled, as it becometh sad, sober, and discreet ministers; and whether they have their crowns and beards shaven. 19. Item, Whether any of them do use any unlawful games, as dice, cards, and other like, whereby they grow to slander and evil report. 20. Item, Whether they do keep residence and hospitality upon their benefices, and do make charitable contributions, according to all the laws ecclesiastical. 21. Item, Whether they do keep the book of registers of christenings, buryings, and marriages, with the names of the godfathers and godmothers.

HIS ARTICLES TOUCHING THE LAY-PEOPLE.

First , Whether any manner of person, of what estate, degree, or condition soever he be, do hold, maintain, or affirm any heresies, errors, or erroneous opinions, contrary to the laws ecclesiastical, and the unity of the catholic church. 2. Item, Whether any person do hold, affirm, or say that in the blessed sacrament of the altar there is not contained the real and substantial presence of Christ; or that by any manner of means do contemn and despise the said blessed sacrament, or do refuse to do reverence or worship thereunto. 3. Item, Whether they do contemn or despise by any manner of means any other of the sacraments, rites, or ceremonies of the church, or do refuse or deny auricular confession. 4. Item, Whether any do absent or refrain, without urgent and lawful impediment, to come to the church, and reverently to hear the divine service upon Sundays and holy days. 5. Item, Whether, being in the church, they do not apply themselves to hear the divine service, and to be contemplative in holy prayer; and not to walk, jangle, or talk, in the time of the divine service. 6. Item, Whether any be fornicators, adulterers, or do commit incest, or be bawds, and receivers of evil persons, or be vehemently suspected of any of them. 7. Item, Whether any do blaspheme and take the name of God in vain, or be common swearers. 8. Item, Whether any be perjured, or have committed simony or usury, or do still remain in the same. 9. Item, Whether the churches and church-yards be well and honestly repaired and enclosed. 10. Item, Whether the churches be sufficiently garnished and adorned with all ornaments and books necessary, and whether they have a rood a160 in their church of a decent stature, with Mary and John, and an image of the patron of the same church. 11. Item, Whether any do withhold, or do draw from the church, any manner of money or goods, or that do withhold their due and accustomed tithes from their parsons and vicars. 12. Item, Whether any be common drunkards, ribalds, or men of evil living, or do exercise any lewd pastimes, especially in the time of divine service. 13. Item, If there be any that do, practice, or exercise, any arts of magic or necromancy, or do use or practice any incantations, sorceries, or witchcraft, or be vehemently suspected thereof. 14. Item, Whether any be married within the degrees of affinity or consanguinity prohibited by the laws of holy church, or that do marry, the bans not asked, or do make any privy contracts. 15. Item, Whether in the time of Easter last, any were not confessed, or did not receive the blessed sacrament of the altar, or did irreverently behave themselves in the receiving thereof. 16. Item, Whether any do keep any secret conventicles, preachings, lectures, or readings, in matter of religion, contrary to the laws. 17. Item, Whether any do now not duly keep the fasting and embering days. 18. Item, Whether the altars in the churches be consecrated, or no. 19. Item, Whether the sacrament be carried devoutly to them that fall sick, with light, and with a little sacring bell. 20. Item, Whether the common schools he well kept; and that the schoolmasters be diligent in teaching, and be also catholic, and men of good and upright judgment, and that they be examined and approved by the ordinary. 21. Item, Whether any do take upon them to administer the goods of those that be dead, without authority from the ordinary. 22. Item, Whether the poor people in every parish be charitably provided for. 23. Item, Whether there do burn a lamp or a candle before the sacrament. And if there do not, that then it be provided for with expedition. 24. Item, Whether infants and children be brought to be confirmed in convenient time. 25. Item, Whether any do keep, or have in their custody, any erroneous or unlawful books. 26. Item, Whether any do withhold any money or goods bequeathed to the amending of the highways, or any other charitable deed. 27. Item, Whether any have put away their wives, or any wives do withdraw themselves from their husbands, being not lawfully divorced. 28. Item, Whether any do violate or break the Sundays and holy-days, doing their daily labors and exercises upon the same. 29. Item, Whether the [keepers of] taverns or alehouses, upon the Sundays and holy-days, in the time of mass, matins, and evensong, do keep open their doors, and do receive people into their houses to drink and eat, and thereby neglect their duties in coming to the church. 30. Item, Whether any have or do deprave or contemn the authority or jurisdiction of the pope’s holiness, or the see of Rome. 31. Item, Whether any minstrels, or any other persons do use to sing any songs against the holy sacraments, or any other rites and ceremonies of the church. 32. Item, Whether there be any hospitals within your parishes, and whether the foundations of them be duly and truly observed and kept; and whether the charitable contributions of the same be done accordingly. 33. Item, Whether any goods, plate, jewels, or possessions be taken away, or withholden, from the said hospitals, and by whom.

HISTORY OF TEN MARTYRS CONDEMNED AND BURNED WITHIN THE DIOCESE OF CANTERBURY.

FOR THE TESTIMONY OF JESUS CHRIST, AND TRUTH OF HIS GOSPEL.

Mention was made a little before of the persecution in Kent; wherefore we declared, that fifteen were in the castle of Canterbury imprisoned and condemned for God’s word. Of the which fifteen, moreover, we showed and declared five to be famished unto death within the said castle, and buried by the highway, about the beginning of November. The other ten, in the first month of the next year following, which was the year of our Lord 1557, were committed unto the fire, and there consumed to ashes, by Thornton, called bishop or suffragan of Dover, otherwise called Dick of Dover, and by Nicholas Harpsfield the archdeacon of the said province.

The names of these ten godly and christian martyrs be these: John Philpot of Tenterden, William Waterer of Biddenden, Stephen Kempe of Norgate, William Hay of Hythe, Thomas Hudson of Selling, Matthew Bradbridge of Tenterden, Thomas Stephens of Biddenden, Nicholas Final of Tenterden, William Lowick of Cranbrooke, William Prowting of Thornham.

Of these ten godly martyrs of Christ, six were burned at Canterbury, about the 15th of January, that is, Kempe, Waterer, Prowting, Lowick, Hudson, and Hay. Other two, that is, Stephens and Philpot, at Wye, about the same month. Other two, which were Final and Bradbridge, were burned both together at Ashford, the 16th of the same.

What the ordinary articles were, commonly objected to them of Canterbury diocese, is before rehearsed, save only that to some of these, as to them that follow after, as the time of their persecution did grow, so their articles withal did increase to the number of two and twenty, containing such like matter as served to the maintenance of the Romish see.

To these articles what their answers were likewise, needeth here no great rehearsal, seeing they all agreed together, though not in the same form of words, yet in much like effect of purposes: first granting the church of Christ, and denying the church of Rome; denying the seven sacraments; refusing the mass, and the hearing of Latin service, praying to saints, justification of works, etc. And though they did all answer uniformly in some smaller things, as their learning served them, yet in the most principal and chiefest matters they did not greatly discord, etc.

The next month following, which was February, came out another bloody commission from the king and queen, to kindle up the fire of persecution, as though it were not hot enough already; the contents of which commission I thought here not to prefermit, not for lack of matter, whereof I have too much, but that the reader may understand how kings and princes of this world, like as in the first persecutions of the primitive church under Valerian, Decius, Maximian, Dioclesian, Licinius, etc.; so now also in these latter perilous days, have set out all their main force and power, with laws, policy, and authority to the uttermost they could devise, against Christ and his blessed gospel. And yet, notwithstanding all these laws, constitutions, injunctions, and terrible proclamations provided against Christ and his gospel, Christ yet still continueth, his gospel flourisheth, and truth prevaileth; kings and emperors in their own purposes overthrown, their devices dissolved, their counsels confounded; as examples both of this and of all times and ages do make manifest. But now let us hear the intent of this commission, in tenor as followeth.

A BLOODY COMMISSION A161 GIVEN FORTH BY KING PHILIP AND QUEEN MARY, TO PERSECUTE THE POOR MEMBERS OF CHRIST.

Philip and Mary, by the grace of God king and queen of England, etc., defenders of the faith, etc.: *To the right reverend father in God, Edmund, bishop of London, and* to the right reverend father in God our right trusty and well-beloved councilor Thomas, bishop of Ely; and to our right trusty and well-beloved William Windsor, knight, lord Windsor; Edward North, knight, lord North; and to our trusty and well-beloved councilors, John Bourne, knight, one of our chief secretaries; John Mordaunt, knight; Francis Englefield, knight, master of our wards and liveries; Edward Walgrave, knight, master of our great wardrop; Nicholas Hare, knight, master of the rolls and our high court of chancery; and to our trusty and well-beloved Thomas Pope, knight; Roger Cholmley, knight; Richard Rede, knight; Rowland Hill, knight; William Rastal, sergeant at law; Henry Cole, clerk, dean of Paul’s; William Roper and Rare Cholmley, esquires; William Cook, Thomas Martin, John Story, and John Vaughan, doctors of law, greeting.

Forasmuch as divers devilish and slanderous persons have not only invented, bruited, and set forth, divers false rumors, tales, and seditious slanders against us, but also have sown divers heresies and heretical opinions, and set forth divers seditious books, within this our realm of England, meaning thereby to *move, procure, and* stir up division, strife, contention, and sedition, not only amongst our loving subjects, but also betwixt us and our said subjects, with divers other outrageous misdemeanors, enormities, contempts, and offences, daily committed and done, to the disquieting of us and our people: We, minding and intending the due punishment of such offenders, and the repressing of such like offences, enormities, and misbehaviors from henceforth, having special trust and confidence in your fidelities, wisdoms, and discretion’s, have authorized, appointed and assigned you to be our commissioners; and by these presents do give full power and authority unto you, and three of you, to inquire as well by the oaths of twelve good and lawful men, as by witnesses and all other means and politic ways you can devise, of all and singular heresies, heretical opinions, lollardies, heretical and seditious books, concealment’s, contempts, conspiracies, and *of* all false rumors, tales, seditious and slanderous words or sayings, raised, published, bruited, invented, or set forth against us, or either of us, or against the quiet governance and rule of our people and subjects, by hooks, lies, tales, or otherwise, in any county, key, bowing, or other place or places, within this our realm of England or elsewhere, in any place or places beyond the seas, and of the *bringers* in, utterers, buyers, sellers, readers, keepers, or conveyers of any such letter, book, rumor and tale, and of all and every their coadjutors, counselors, comforters, procurers, abettors, and maintainers, giving unto you and three of you full power and authority, by virtue hereof, to search out and take into your hands and possessions all manner of heretical and seditious books, letters, and writings, wheresoever they or any of them shall be found, as well in printers’ houses and shops, as elsewhere, willing you and every of you to search for the same in all places, according to your discretion’s: and also to inquire, hear and determine all and singular enormities, disturbances, misbehaviors, and negligences *done suffered and* committed in any church, chapel, or other hallowed place, within this realm; and also for and concerning the takingaway or withholding ally lands, tenements, goods ornaments, stocks of money or other things, belonging to every of the same churches and chapels, and all accounts and reckonings concerning the same. And also to inquire and search out all such persons as obstinately do refuse to receive the blessed sacrament of the altar, to hear mass, or to come to their parish churches , a162 or other convenient places appointed for divine service; and all such as refuse to go on procession, to take holy bread, or holy water, or otherwise do misuse themselves in any church or other hallowed place, wheresoever any of the same offences have been, or hereafter shall be, committed within this our said realm.

Nevertheless, our will and pleasure is, that when and as often as any person or persons hereafter to be called or convented before you, do obstinately persist or stand in any manner of heresy, or heretical opinion, that then ye, or three of you, do immediately take order, that the same person or persons, so standing or persisting, be delivered and committed to his ordinary, there to be used according to the spiritual and ecclesiastical laws. And also we give unto you, or three of you, full power and authority, to inquire and search out all vagabonds, and masterless men, barretors , a163 quarrelers, and suspect persons, *vagrant or* abiding within our city of London, and ten miles’ compass of the same, and all assaults and affrays done and committed within the same city and compass. And further to search out all waste, decays, and ruins of churches, chancels, chapels, parsonages and vicarages in *whatsoever* diocese the same be within this realm; giving *to* you and every *three* of you full power and authority by virtue hereof to hear and determine the same, and all other offences and matters above specified and rehearsed, according to your wisdoms, consciences, and discretion’s, willing and commanding you or three of you, from time to time, to use and devise all such politic ways and means for the trial and searching out of the premises, as by you or three of you shall be thought most expedient and necessary: and upon inquiry and due proof had, known, perceived, and tried out, by the confession of the parties, or by sufficient witnesses before you, or three of you, concerning the premises or any part thereof, or by any other ways or means requisite, to give and award such punishment to the offenders, by fine, imprisonment, or otherwise, and to take such order for redress and reformation of the premises, as to your wisdoms, or three of you, shall be thought meet and convenient.

Further, willing and commanding you and every three of you, in case you shall find any person or persons obstinate or disobedient, either in their appearance before you or three of you, at your calling or assignment, or else in not accomplishing, or not obeying your decrees, orders, and commandments, in any thing or things touching the premises or any part thereof, to commit the same person or persons so offending to ward, there to remain, till by you or three of you he be discharged or delivered: and we give to you, and every three of you, full power and authority by these presents, to take and receive, by your discretion, of every offender or suspect person to be convented and brought before you a recognizance or recognizance’s, obligation or obligations, to our use, of such sum or sums of money as to you, or three of you, shall seem convenient; as well for the personal appearance before you of every such suspect person, or for the performance and accomplishment of your orders and decrees, in case you shall so think convenient; as for the true and sure payment of all and every such fine and fines, as shall hereafter be by you, or three of you, taxed or assessed, upon any offender that shall be before you, or three of you, duly convinced as is aforesaid, to our use, to be paid at such days and times as by you, or three of you, shall be called, limited, and appointed: and you to certify every such recognizance or obligation, so being taken for any fine or fines (not fully and wholly paid before you), under your hands and seals, or the hands or seals of three of you, into our court of chancery; to the intent we may be thereof duly answered, as appertaineth.

And furthermore we give to you and three of you full power and authority by these presents, not only to call before you all and every offender and offenders, and all and every suspect person and persons, in any of the premises, but also all such and so many witnesses as ye shall think meet to be called, and them and every of them, to examine, and compel to answer and swear upon the holy evangelists to declare the truth of all such things whereof they or any of them shall be examined, for the better trial, opening, and declaration, of the premises, or of any part thereof.

And further, our will and pleasure is, that you, or three of you, shall name and appoint one sufficient person to gather up and receive all such sums of money as shall be assessed and taxed by you, or any three of you, for any fine or fines upon any person or persons, for their offences; and you, or three of you, by bill or bills assigned with your hands, shall and may assign and appoint (as well to the said person for his pains in receiving the said sums, as also to your clerks, messengers, and attendants upon you, for their travail, pains, and charges to be sustained for us, about the premises or any part thereof, such sum and sums of money for their rewards, as by you, or three of you, shall be thought expedient: willing and commanding you or three of you, after the tyme of this our commission expired, to certify unto our escheker as well the name of the said receiver, as also a note of such fines as shall be set and taxed before you, to the entent that upon the determination of the accompte of the same receiver, we may be answered of that unto us shall justly apperteine: willing and commanding also all our auditors and other officers (upon the sight of the said bills signed with the hands of you or three of you), to make to the said receiver due allowance according to the said bills, upon this accompte. Wherefore we will and command you, our said commissioners, with diligence *to give attendance, and* to execute the premises *with effect*, any of our laws, statutes, proclamations, or other grants, privileges, or ordinances, which be, or may seem to be, contrary to the premises, notwithstanding.

And moreover, we will and command all and singular justices of peace, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs, constables, and all other our officers and ministers, and faithful subjects, to be aiding, helping, and assisting you at your commandment, in the due execution hereof; as they may tender our pleasure, and will answer to the contrary at their uttermost perils. And we will and grant, that these our letters patent shall be sufficient warrant and discharge for you, and every of you, against us, our heirs, and successors; and all and every other person and persons, whatsoever they be, of, for, and concerning, the premises or any parcel thereof, or for the execution of this our commission or any part thereof. In witness whereof, we have caused these our letters patent to be made, and to continue and endure for one whole year next coming after the date hereof.

Witness ourselves at Westminster, the 8th of February, the third and years of our reigns.* THE APPREHENSION OF TWO AND TWENTY PRISIONERS, SENT UP TOGETHER FOR GOD’S WORD, TO LONDON, FROM COLCHESTER.

After this bloody proclamation or commission thus given out at London, which was February the 8th, in the third and fourth years of the king and queen’s reign, these new inquisitors, especially some of them, began to ruffle, and to take upon them not a little; so that all quarters were full of persecution, and prisons almost full of prisoners, namely, in the diocese of Canterbury, whereof (by the leave of Christ) we will say more anon.

In the mean time, about the town of Colchester, the wind of persecution began fiercely to rise; insomuch that three-and-twenty together, men and women, were apprehended at one clap; of the which twenty-three, one escaped: the other twenty-two were driven up like a flock of christian lambs to London, with two or three leaders with them at most, ready to give their skins to be plucked off for the gospel’s sake. Notwithstanding the bishops, afraid belike of the number, to put so many at once to death, sought means to deliver them, and so they did, drawing out a very easy submission for them, or rather suffering them to draw it out themselves: notwithstanding divers of them afterward were taken again and suffered, as hereafter ye shall hear (God willing) declared. Such as met them by the way coming up, saw them in the fields, scattering in such sort, as that they might easily have escaped away. And when they entered into the towns their keepers called them again into array, to go two and two together, having a band or line going between them, they holding the same in their hands, having another cord every one about his arm, as though they were tied.

And so were these fourteen men and eight women carried up to London, the people by the way praying to God for them, to give them strength. At their entering into London, they were pinioned, and so came into the city, as the picture here shortly after following, with their names also subscribed, doth describe. But first let us declare concerning their taking and their attachers, contained in the commissary’s letter written to Bonner; then the indenture made between the commissioners and the popish commissary. The letter of the commissary is this.

THE LETTER OF THE COMMISSARY, CALLED JOHN KINGSTON, WRITTEN TO BISHOP BONNER.

After my duty done in receiving and accomplishing your honorable and most loving letters, dated the 7th of August, be it known unto your lordship, that the 28th of August, the lord of Oxenford, lord Darey, Henry Tyrrel, Anthony Brown, William Bendelows, Edmund Tyrrel, Richard Weston, Roger Appleton, published their commission, to seize the lands, tenements, and goods of the fugitives, so that the owners should have neither use nor commodity thereof, but by inventory remain in safe keeping, until the cause were determined. And also there was likewise proclaimed the queen’s grace’s warrant for the restitution of the church goods within Colchester and the hundreds thereabout, to the use of God’s service. And then were called the parishes particularly, and the heretics partly committed to my examination; and that divers persons should certify me of the ornaments of their churches, betwixt this and the justices’ next appearance, which shall be on Michaelmas-even next. And the parishes which had presented at two several times, to have all ornaments with other things in good order, were exonerated for ever, to they were warned again ; a164 and others to make their appearance from time to time. And those names blotted in the indenture, were indicted for treason, fugitives, or disobedients, and were put forth by master Brown’s commandment. And before the sealing, my lord Darey said unto me (apart) and master Bendelows, that I should have sufficient time to send unto your lordship, yea, if need were, the heretics to remain in durance till I had an answer from you, yea to the lord legate’s grace’s commissioners come into the country. And master Brown came unto my lord Darey’s house and parlout belonging unto master Barnaby, before my said lord and all the justices, and laid his hand on my shoulder, with a smiling countenance, and desired me to make his hearty commendations to your good lordship, and asked me if I would; and I said, Yea, with a good will. Wherefore I was glad, and thought that I should not have been charged with so sudden carriage.

But after dinner, the justices counseled with the bailiffs, and with the jailers; and then after took me unto them, and made collation of the indentures, and sealed them; and then master Brown commanded me this afternoon, being the 30th of August, to go and receive my prisoners by and by. And then I said, “It is an unreasonable commandment, for that I have attended on you here these three days, and this Sunday early I have sent home my men.

Wherefore I desire you to have a convenient time appointed, wherein I may know whether it will please my lord and master to send his commissioners hither, or that I shall make carriage of them unto his lordship.” Then master Brown: “We are certified, that the council have written to your master, to make speed, and to rid these prisoners out of hand: therefore go receive your prisoners in haste.” Then I: “Sir, I shall receive them within these ten days.”

Then master Brown: “The limitation lieth in us, and not in you: wherefore get you hence.” “Sir, ye have indicted and delivered me by this indenture, .whose faith or opinions I know not, trusting that ye will grant me a time to examine them, lest I should punish the catholics.” “Well,” said master Brown, “for that cause, ye shall have time betwixt this and Wednesday. And I say unto you, master bailiffs, if he do not receive them at your hands on Wednesday, set open your doors, and let them go.”

Then I: “My lord and masters all, I promise to discharge the town and country of these heretics, within ten days.” Then my lord Darcy said, “Commissary, we do and must all agree in one: wherefore do ye receive them on or before Wednesday.”

Then I: “My lord, the last I carried, I was going betwixt the castle and St. Katherine’s chapel, two hours and a half, and in great press and danger: wherefore this may be to desire your lordship, to give in commandment unto my master Sayer, bailiff, here present, to aid me through his liberties, not only with men and weapons, but that the town-clerk may be ready there with his book to write the names of the most busy persons, and this upon three hours’ warning:” all which both my lord and master Brown commanded. f285 And the 31st of August William Goodwin of Much Birch, husbandman, this bringer, and Thomas Alsey of Copford, your lordship’s apparitor of your consistory in Colchester, covenanted with me, that they should hire two other men at the least, whereof one should be a bow-man, to come to me the next day about two of the clock at afternoon, so that I might recite this bargain before master archdeacon, and pay the money, that is, forty-six shillings eightpence. Wherefore they should then go forth with me unto Colchester, and on Wednesday before three of the clock in the morning receive there at my hand within the castle and moat-hall, fourteen men and eight women, ready bound with gyves and hemp; and drive, carry, or lead, and feed with meat and drink, as heretics ought to be found continually, unto such time that the said William and Thomas, shall cause the said two-and-twenty persons to be delivered unto my lord of London’s officers, and within the safe keeping of my said lord; and then to bring unto me again the said gyves, with a perfect token of or from my said lord, and then this covenant is void; or else, etc.

Master Bendelows said unto me in my lord of Oxenford’s chamber at the King’s Head, after I had said mass before the lords, that on the morrow after Holy-rood day, when we shall meet at Chelmsford for the division of these lands, “I think, master archdeacon, you, and master Smith, shall be fain to ride with certain of the jury to those portions and manors in your part of Essex, and in like case divide yourselves, to tread and view the ground with the quest; or else I think they will not labor the matter.” And so do you say unto master archdeacon.

Alice the wife of William Walleys of Colchester, hath submitted herself, abjured her erroneous opinions, asked absolution, promised to do her solemn penance in her parish church of St. Peter’s on Sunday next, and to continue a catholic and a faithful woman, as long as God shall send her life. And for these covenants, her husband standeth bound in five pounds. Which Alice is one of the nine women of this your indenture; and she is big with child: wherefore she remaineth at home. And this done in the presence of the bailiffs, aldermen, and town-clerk. And for that master Brown was certified, there was no curate at Lexden, he inquired who was the farmer. The answer was made, “Sir Francis Jobson.” “Who is the parson?” They of the quest-men answered, “Sir Roger Gostlow.” “When was he with you?” “Not these fourteen years.” “How is your cure served?” “Now and then.” “Who is the patron?” “My lord of Arundel.” And within short time after, sir Francis Jobson came with great courtesy unto my lord Darcy’s place: and of all gentlemen about us, I saw no more come in. Sir Robert Smith priest, sometime canon of Bridlington, now curate of Appledore in the wild of Kent , a165 came to Colchester the 28th day of August, with his Wife big with child, of late divorced, taken on suspicion, examined of the lords; and master Brown told me, that they have received letters from the council for the attachment of certain persons, and especially of one priest, whose name is Pullen (but his right name is Smith), doubting this priest to be the said Pullen, although neither he nor his wife would confess the same. Wherefore he lieth still in prison, but surely this is not Pullen.

If it please your lordship to have in remembrance, that the householders might be compelled to bring every man his own wife to her own seat in the church in time of divine service, it would profit much. And also there he yet standing hospitals, and other of like foundation about Colchester, which I have not known to appear at any visitation; as the misters and lazars of Mary Magdalen in Colchester, the proctor of St. Katherine’s chapel in Colchester, the hospital or beadhouse a166 of the foundation of the lord H. Marney in Layer-Marney, the hospital and beadmen of Little Horkesley. Thus presuming of your lordship’s goodness, I am more than bold ever to trouble you with this worldly business, beseeching Almighty God to send your honorable lordship a condign reward.

From Easthorp this present 30th day of August.

We found a letter touching the marriage of priests in the hands of the foresaid sir Robert Smith. Also I desired master Brown, the doer of all things, to require the audience to bring in their unlawful writings and books; who asked me, if I had proclaimed the proclamation. I said, “Yea.” Then he said openly upon the bench, that they should be proclaimed every quarter once. And then take the constables and officers; and they alone take and punish the offenders accordingly.

By your poor beadman, John Kingston , priest.

AN INDENTURE MADE BETWEEN THE LORDS AND THE JUSTICES WITHIN SPECIFIED, AND BONNER’S COMMISSARY, CONCERNING THE DELIVERY OF THE PRISONERS ABOVE-NAMED.

This indenture, made the 29th day of August, in the third and fourth years of the reigns of our sovereign lord and lady, Philip and Mary, by the grace of God king and queen of England, Spain, France, both Sieilies, Jerusalem, and Ireland, defenders of the faith, archdukes of Austria, dukes of Burgundy, Milan, and Brabant, counts of Hamburgh, Flanders, and Tyrol, between the right honorable lord John de Vere, earl of Oxford, lord high chamberlain of England; Thomas lord Darcy of Chichester; a167 Henry Tyrrel, knight; Anthony Brown, the king and queen’s majesties’ sergeant at law; William Bendelows, sergeant at law; Edmund Tyrrel, Richard Weston, Roger Appleton, esquires, justices of oyer and determiner, and of the peace within the said county of Essex, to be kept of the one party; and John Kingston, clerk, bachelor at law, commissary to the bishop of London, of the other party, witnesseth, that Robert Colman, of Walton in the county of Essex, laborer; Joan Winseley, of Horkesley Magna in the said county, spinster; Stephen Glover, of Rayleigh in the county aforesaid, glover; Richard Clerke, of Much Holland in the said county, mariner; William Munt, of Much Bentley in the said county, husbandman; Thomas Winseley, of Much Horkesley in the said county, sawyer; Margaret Field, of Ramsey in the said. county, spinster; Agnes Whitelock, of Dover-court in the said county, spinster; Alice Munt, of Much Bentley in the said county, spinster; Rose Allin, of the same town and county, spinster; Richard Bongeor, of Colchester in the said county, courier; Richard Atkin, of Halsted in the said county, weaver; Robert Barcock, of Wiston in the county of Suffolk, carpenter; Richard George, of West Bergholt in the county of Essex, laborer; Richard Jolley, of Colchester in the said county, mariner; Thomas Feerefanne, of the same town and county, mercer; Robert Debnam, late of Dedham in the said county, weaver; Cicely Warren, of Coggeshall, in the said county, spinster; Christian Pepper, widow, of the same town and county; Allin Simpson; Ellen Ewring; Alice, the wife of William Wallis, of Colchester, spinster; and William Bongeor, of Colchester in the said county, glazier; being indicted of heresy, are delivered to the said John Kingston, clerk, ordinary to the bishop of London, according to the statute in that case provided.

In witness whereof to the one part of this indenture remaining with the said earl, lord, and other the justices, the said ordinary hath set to his hand and seal, and to the other part remaining with the said ordinary, the said earl, lord, and other the justices, have set to their several hands and seals, the day and years above written. Oxenford. William Bendclews. Thomas Darcy. Edmund Tyrrel.

Henry Tyrrel. Richard Weston. Anthony Brown. Roger Appleton .

The twenty-two aforesaid prisoners thus sent from Colchester to London, were brought at length to bishop Bonner. * Behold moe sheep hereby, addrest to Bonner’s stall, Whose thirsty throat, so dry, for more blood still doth call.* As touching the order and manner of their coming and bringing, the said Bonner himself writeth to cardinal Pole, as you shall hear.

A LETTER OF BISHOP BONNER TO CARDINAL POLE, CONCERNING THE PRISONERS AFORESAID.

May it please your good grace, with my most humble obedience, reverence, and duty, to understand, that going to London upon Thursday last, and thinking to be troubled with master Germaines’s matter only, and such other common matters as are accustomed, enough to weary a right strong body, I had the day following (to comfort my stomach withal) letters from Colchester, that either that day, or the day following, I should have sent thence twenty-two heretics, indicted before the commissioners; and indeed so I had, and compelled to bear their charges as I did of the others, which both stood me above twenty nobles, a sum of :money that I thought full evil bestowed. And these heretics, notwithstanding they had honest catholic keepers to conduct and bring them up to me, and, in all the way from Colchester to Stratford of the Bow, did go quietly and obediently; yet coming to Stratford they began to take heart of grace, and to do as pleased themselves, for there they began to have their guard, which generally increased till the came to Aldgate, where the were lodged Friday night.

And albeit I took order that the said heretics should be with me very early on Saturday morning, to the intent they might quietly come and be examined by me, yet it was between ten and eleven of the clock before they would come, and no way would they take but through Cheapside, so that they were brought to my house with about a thousand persons, Which thing I took very strange, and spoke to sir John Gresham then being with me, to tell the mayor and the sheriffs that this thing was not well suffered in the city.

These naughty heretics all the way they came through Cheapside, both exhorted the people to their part, and had much comfort e promiscua plebe, and being entered into my house, and talked withal, they showed themselves desperate and very obstinate; yet I used all the honest means I could, both of myself and others, to have won them, causing divers learned men to talk with them; and finding nothing in them but pride and willfulness, I thought to have had them all hither to Fulham, and here to give sentence against them. Nevertheless, perceiving by my last doing that your grace was offended, I thought it my duty, before I anything further proceeded herein, to advertise first your grace hereof, and know your good pleasure, which I beseech your grace I may do by this trusty bearer. And thus most humbly I take my leave of your good grace, beseeching Almighty God always to preserve the same. — At Fulham, postridie Nativitatis 1556.

Your grace’s most bounden beadsman and servant, Edmund London.

By this letter of bishop Bonner to the cardinal, is to be understood, what good-will was in this bishop to have the blood a168 of these men, and to have past with sentence of condemnation against them, had not the cardinal somewhat (as it seemed) stayed his fervent headiness. Concerning the which cardinal, although it cannot be denied by his acts and writings, but that he was a professed enemy, and no otherwise to be reputed but for a papist; yet again it is to be supposed, that he was none of the bloody and cruel sort of papists, as may appear, not only by staying the rage of this bishop, but also by the solicitous writing, and long letters written to Cranmer, also by the complaints of certain papists accusing him to the pope, to be a bearer with the heretics, and by the pope’s letters sent to him upon the same, calling him up to Rome, and setting friar Pete in his place, had not queen Mary, by special entreaty, kept him out of the pope’s danger. All which letters I have (if need be) to show; and besides, also, that it is thought of him that toward his latter end, a little before his coming from Rome to England, he began somewhat to favor the doctrine of Luther, and was no less suspected at Rome: yea, and furthermore, did there at Rome convert a certain learned Spaniard from papism to Luther’s side; notwithstanding the pomp and glory of the world afterward carried him away to play the papist thus as he did. But of this cardinal enough.

To return now to this godly company again; first how they were brought up in bands to London, ye have heard: also how Bonner was about to have read the sentence of death upon them, and how he was stayed by the cardinal, ye understand. As touching their confession, which they articled up in writing, it were too tedious to recite the whole at length. Briefly touching the article of the Lord’s supper (for the which they were chiefly troubled), thus they wrote, as here followeth.

THE CONFESSION OF CERTAIN PRISONERS FROM COLCHESTER, TOUCHING THE SUPPER OF THE LORD.

Whereas Christ at his last supper took bread, and when he had given thanks, he brake-it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, “Take, eat, this is my body;” and likewise took the cup and thanked, etc., we do understand it to be a figurative speech, as the most manner of his language was in parables and dark sentences, that they which are carnally minded, should see with their eyes, and not perceive; and hear with their ears, and not understand; signifying this, that as he did break the bread among them, being but one loaf, and they all were partakers thereof, so we through his body, in that it was broken, and offered upon the cross for us, are all partakers thereof; and his blood cleanseth us from all our sins, and hath pacified God’s wrath towards us, and made the atonement between God and us, if we walk henceforth in the light, even as he is the true light.

And in Chat be said further, “Do this in remembrance of me,” it is a memorial and token of the suffering and death of Jesus Christ; and he commanded it for this cause, that the congregation of Christ should come together to show his death, and to thank and laud him for all his benefits, and magnify his holy name; and so to break the bread, and drink the wine, in remembrance that Christ had given his body, and shed his blood for us. Thus you may well perceive, though Christ called the bread his body, and the wine his blood, yet it followeth not that the substance of his body should be in the bread and wine; as divers places in Scripture are spoken by Christ and the apostles in like phrase of speech, as in John 15. “I am the true Vine.” Also in John 10: “I am the Door.” And as it is written in Hebrews 9 and in Exodus 24, how Moses took the blood of the calves, and sprinkled both the book and all the people, saying, “This is the blood of the covenant or testament.” And also in Ezekiel 6, how the Lord said unto him concerning the third part of his hair, saying, “This is Jerusalem,” etc.

Thus we see the Scriptures how they are spoken in figures, and ought to be spiritually examined, and not as they would have us to say, that the bodily presence of Christ is in the bread, which is a blasphemous understanding of the godly word, and is contrary to all holy Scriptures. Also we do see that great idolatry is sprung out of the carnal understanding of the words of Christ, “This is my body; and yet daily springeth, to the great dishonor of God; so that men worship a piece of bread for God, yea, and hold that to be their maker.

After this confession of their faith and doctrine being written and exhibited, they also devised a letter withal, in a manner of a short supplication, or rather an admonition to the judges and commissioners, requiring that justice and judgment, after the rule of God’s word, might be ministered unto them; the copy of which their letter I thought here also to show unto the reader in form as followeth.

A LETTER OR SUPPLICATION OF THE PRISONERS TO THE JUDGES.

To the right honorable audience, before whom these our simple writings, and the confession of our faith shall come to be read or seen, we poor prisoners, being fast in bands upon the trial of our faith, which we offer to be tried by the Scriptures, pray most heartily, that forasmuch as God hath given you power and strength over us as concerning our bodies, under whom we submit ourselves as obedient subjects in all things due, ye being officers and rulers of the people, may execute true judgment, keep the laws of righteousness, govern the people according to right, and hear the poor and helpless in truth, and defend their cause.

God, for his Son Jesus Christ’s sake, give you the wisdom and understanding of Solomon, David, Hezekiah, Moses, with divers other most virtuous rulers, by whose wisdom and most godly understanding, the people were justly ruled and governed in the fear of God, all wickedness was by them overthrown and beaten down, and all godliness and virtue did flourish and spring. O God, which art the most highest, the Creator and Maker of all things, and of all men both great and. small, and carest for all alike, which dost try all men’s works and imaginations, before whose judgment-seat shall come both high and low, rich and poor; we most humbly beseech thee to put into our rulers’ hearts the pure love and fear of thy name, that even as they themselves would be judged, and as they shall make answer before thee, so they may hear our causes, judge with mercy, and read over these our requests and confessions of our faith, with deliberation and a godly judgment.

And if any thing here seemeth to your honorable audience to be erroneous. or disagreeing to the Scripture, if it shall please your lordships to hear us patiently, which do offer ourselves to the Scriptures, thereby to make answer, and to be tried, in so doing we poor subjects, being in much captivity and bondage, are most bound to pray for your noble estate and long preservation.

The request of these men being so just, and their doctrine so sound, yet all this could not prevail with the bishop and other judges, but that sentence should have proceeded against them incontinent, had not the goodness of the Lord better provided for his servants, than the bishop had intended.

For as they were now under the edge of the axe, ready to be condemned by sentence, it was thought otherwise by the cardinal, and some other wiser heads; fearing belike, lest by the death of so many together, some disturbance might rise peradventure among the people; and so it was decreed among themselves, that rather they should make some submission or confession,, such as they would themselves, and so be sent home again, as they were indeed; howbeit divers of them afterward were apprehended and put to death. But in the mean space as touching their submission which they made, this it was, as in form here followeth.

THE SUBMISSION OR CONFESSION OF THESE AFORESAID PRISONERS.

Because our Savior Christ at his last supper took bread, and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and gave it unto his disciples, and said, “Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you, this do in remembrance of me;” therefore, according to the words of our Savior Jesus Christ, we do believe in the sacrament to be Christ’s body. And likewise he took the cup, gave thanks, and gave it to his disciples. and said, “This is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed for many.”

Therefore likewise we do believe that it is the blood of Christ, according as Christ’s church doth minister the same; unto the which catholic church of Christ we do in this like as in all other matters submit ourselves, promising therein to live as it becometh good christian men, and here in this realm to use ourselves as it becometh faithful subjects unto our most gracious king and queen, and to all other superiors both spiritual and temporal, according to our bounden duties.

THE NAMES OF THEM WHICH SUBSCRIBED TO THIS SUBMISSION, WERE THESE: - John Atkin, Alyn Symson, Richard George, Thomas Firefanne, William Munt, Richard Joly, Richard Gratwicke, Thomas Winssey, Richard Rothe, Richard Clark, Stephen Glover, Robert Colman, Thomas Merse, William Bongeor, Robert Betcock, Margaret Hide, Elyn Euring, Christian Pepper, Margaret Feld, Alice Munt, Joan Winsly, Cysly Warren, Rose Alyn, Ann Whitelocke, George Barker, John Saxby, Thomas Locker, Alice Locker.

THE STORY OF FIVE OTHER GODLY MARTYRS BURNED AT ONE FIRE IN SMITHFIELD WITH THEIR ANSWERS TO THE ARTICLES. *The learned being at this time, in a manner, all despatched in this furious rage of persecution, we now have little or small matter to write, touching the other seely sheep and simple lambs of Christ’s flock, yet remaining behind; upon whom they satisfied still their blood-thirsty and slaughterous affections. I thought it therefore not beside the matter to admonish the reader, to judge of them, and of such others, before specified, as of the dear elect children and. true martyrs of God; by whose simplicity the merciful wisdom and mighty power of God was more manifested and showed, who “hath chosen in them the foolish and weak things of this world to confound the wise and mighty ones, and things that are not, to bring to nought things that are.”

And as touching those of whom there is no matter mentioned in this history, as occasions of their death (for that none as yet came to my hands), this one sure and only cause is certainly to be adjudged generally to them, that it was for the sincere profession of Christ’s gospel: and as for the rest, of whom out of the registrar’s notes somewhat is and shall be said, though there may sometime appear in their answers and confessions to the bishops and others, before whom they were examined, a certain ignorance and lack of knowledge in some points (which, for the most part, is made worse by the unfaithful dealings of the registrars), nevertheless this is to be weighed and truly considered, that, in the chief and principal ground and foundation of their religion and faith, they swerved not, laying Jesus Christ for their corner-stone, as the most perfect prop and sure foundation of their building: upon whom albeit it seemeth they built sometime, through ignorance, stubble or hay (and, the rather, through the papists’ crafty couching of their interrogatories), yet that being consumed by the fire of God’s Holy Spirit, they themselves, through the same Spirit, abide still both safe and sure. And therefore, in hope of this charitable and true judgment, I will proceed to the prosecuting of our history.* In this story of persecuted martyrs, next in order follow five others burned at; London, in Smithfield, in the aforesaid year of the Lord 1557, April the 12th, whose names were these: — Thomas Loseby, Henry Ramsey, Thomas Thirtel, Margaret Hide, and Agnes Stanley: who being, some by the lord Riche, some by other justices of peace, and constables (their own neighbors) at the first accused, and apprehended for not coming to their parish churches, were in the end sent unto Bonner, bishop of London, and by his commandment the 27th day of January were examined before Dr.

Darbyshire, then chancellor to the said bishop, upon the former general articles mentioned. Whose answers thereunto were, that as they confessed there was one true and catholic church, whereof they steadfastly believed, and thought the church of Rome to be no part or member; so in the same church they believed there were but two sacraments, that is to say, Baptism, and. the Supper of the Lord. Howbeit some of them attributed the title and honor of a sacrament to the holy estate of matrimony, which undoubtedly was done rather of simple ignorance, than of any willful opinion, and are thereof to be adjudged as before is admonished. Moreover, they acknowledged themselves to be baptized into the/kith of that true church, as in the third article is specified.

And here in reading as well of these articles, as also of the rest, mark I beseech you the crafty sublety of these catholic companions, who, intermelling certain points a169 of faith, and of the true church, with the idolatrous and superstitious maumetry of their Romish synagogue, cause the poor and simple people, for lack of knowledge, oftentimes to fall into their crafty nets. For after they have made them grant a true church with the sacraments of the same, though not in such number as they would have them, and also that they were christened into the faith thereof, that is, in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, they craftily now in the other their objections, descending as it were from the faith of the Trinity unto their idolatrous mass and other superstitious ceremonies, would make them grant, that now in denying thereof they have severed themselves from the faith of the true church, whereunto they were baptized; which is most false. For though the true light of God’s gospel and holy word was marvelously darkened, and in a manner utterly extinguished; yet the true faith of the Trinity, by the merciful providence of God, was still preserved; and into the faith thereof were we baptized, and not into the belief and profession of their horrible idolatry and vain ceremonies.

These things, not thoroughly weighed by these poor, yet faithful and true members of Christ, caused some of them ignorantly to grant, that when they came to the years of discretion, and understood the light of the gospel, they did separate themselves from the faith of the church, meaning none other but only to separate themselves from the admitting or allowing of such their popish and erroneous trash as they now had defiled the church of Christ withal, and not from their faith received in baptism, which in express words in their answers to the other articles they constantly affirmed, declaring the mass and sacrament of the altar to be most wicked blasphemy against Christ Jesus, and contrary to the truth of his gospel; and therefore utterly they refused to assent unto and to be reconciled again thereunto.

These answers in effect of them thus taken by the said chancellor, they were for that time dismissed; but the bishop, taking the matter into his own hands, the 6th day of March, propounded unto them certain other new articles, the copy whereof followeth.

OTHER ARTICLES OBJECTED BY BONNER, BISHOP OF LONDON, Against the five aforesaid Martyrs, the 6th day of March, being the second time of the Examination.

First , That thou hast thought, believed, and spoken, within some part of the city and diocese of London, that the faith, religion, and ecclesiastical service here observed and kept, as it is in the realm of England, is not a true and a laudable faith, religion, and service, especially concerning the mass and the seven sacraments, nor is agreeable to God’s word and testament; and that thou canst not find in thy heart without murmuring, grudging, or scruple to receive and use it, and to conform thyself unto it, as other subjects of this realm customably have done and do. 2. Item, That thou hast thought, etc., that the English service set forth in the time of king Edward the sixth, here in this realm of England, was and is good and godly, and catholic in all points, and that it alone ought here in this realm to be received, used, and practiced, and none other. 3. Item, Likewise thou hast thought, etc., that thou art not bound to come to thy parish church, and there to be present, and hear matins, mass, even-song, and other divine service, sung or said there. 4. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that thou art not bound to come to procession to the church, upon days and times appointed, and to go in the same with others of the parish, singing or saying then the accustomed prayers used in the church; nor to bear a taper or candle on Candlemas-day; nor take ashes upon Ash-Wednesday; nor bear palms upon Palm-Sunday; nor to creep to the cross upon days accustomed; nor to receive and kiss the pax, a170 at mass-time; nor to receive holy water or holy bread; nor to accept and allow the ceremonies and usages of the church, after the manner and fashion, as they are used in this realm. 5. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that thou art not bound at any time to confess thy sins to any priest, and to receive absolution at his hands, as. God’s minister, nor to receive at any time the blessed sacrament of the altar, especially as it is used in this church of England. 6. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that in matters of religion and fait, h, thou must follow and believe thine own conscience only, and’ not give credit to the determination and common order of the catholic church, and the see of Rome, nor to any member thereof. 7. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that all things do chance of an absolute and precise mere necessity; so that whether man do well or evil, he could not choose but do so; and that therefore no man hath any free will at all. 8. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that the fashion and manner of christening of infants, is not agreeable to God’s word; and that none can be effectually baptized, and thereby saved, except he have years of discretion to believe himself, and so willingly accept or refuse baptism at his pleasure. 9. Item, thou hast thought, etc., that prayers to saints, or prayers for the dead, are not available, and not allowable by God’s word, or profitable in any wise; and that the souls departed do straightways go to heaven or hell, or else do sleep till the day of doom, so that there is no place of purgation at all. 10. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that all such as in the time of king Henry the eighth, or in the time of queen Mary, in England, have been burned as heretics, were no heretics at all, but faithful and good christian people; especially Barnes, Garret, Jerome, Frith, Rogers, Hooper, Cardmaker, Latimer, Taylor, Bradford, Philpot, Cranmer, Ridley, and such like; and that thou didst and dost allow, like, and approve all their opinions, and dost mislike their condemnations and burnings. 11. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that fasting, and prayers used in this church of England, and the appointing of days for fasting, and the abstaining from flesh upon fasting days, and especially in the time of Lent, is not laudable or allowable by God’s word, but is hypocrisy and foolishness; and that men ought to have liberty to eat at all times all kinds of meat. 12. Item, Thou hast taught, etc., that the sacrament of the altar is an idol, and to reserve and keep it, or to honor it, is plain idolatry and superstition: and likewise of the mass and elevation of the sacrament. 13. Item, Thou hast thought, etc., that thou or any else, convented before all ecclesiastical judge concerning matters of belief and faith, art not nor is bound to make answer at all, especially under an oath upon a book.

THEIR ANSWERS TO THE ARTICLES BEFORE OBJECTED.

Their answers to these objections were, that as touching the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, ninth, tenth, and twelfth, they generally granted unto, saving that they denied[the souls of the departed to sleep till the day of judgment, as is mentioned in the ninth article.

And as concerning the sixth objection, they thought themselves bound to believe the true catholic church, so far forth as the same doth instruct them according to God’s holy word; but not to follow the determinations of the erroneous and Babylonical church of Rome.

As for the seventh, eighth, and thirteenth, they utterly denied, that ever they were of any such absurd opinions as are contained therein, but they granted that man of himself, without the help and assistance of God’s Holy Spirit, hath no power to do any good thing acceptable in God’s sight.

To the eleventh they said, that true fasting and prayer, used according to God’s word, are allowable and available in his sight; and that by the same word every faithful man may eat all meats at all times, with thanksgiving to God for the same.

After this, the first day of April, they were again convented before the bishop in his palace at London, where little appeareth to be done, except it were to know whether they would stand to their answers, and whether they would recant or no. But when they refused to recant and deny the received and infallible truth, the bishop caused them to be brought into the open consistory, the 3d day of the same month of April, in the forenoon, where first understanding by them their immutable constancy and steadfastness, he demanded particularly of every one, what they had to say, why he should not pronounce the sentence of condemnation.

To whom Thomas Loseby first answered, “God give me grace and strength to stand against you, and your sentence, and also against your law, which is a devouring law, for it devoureth the flock of Christ. And I perceive there is no way with me but death, except I would consent to your devouring law, and believe in that idol the mass.”

Next unto him answered Thomas Thirtel, saying, “My lord, I say thus, if you make me a heretic, then you make Christ and all the twelve apostles heretics: for I am in the true faith and right belief; and I will stand in it, for I know full well I shall have eternal life there-for.”

The bishop then asked the like question of Henry Ramsey, who said again, “My lord, will you have me to go from the truth that I am in? I say unto you, that my opinions be the very truth, which I will stand unto, and not go from them: and I say unto you further, that there are two churches upon the earth, and we,” meaning himself, and other true martyrs and professors of Christ, “be of the true church, and ye be not.”

Unto this question next answered Margaret Hide, saying, “My lord, you have no cause to give sentence against me; for I am in the true faith and opinion, and will never forsake it; and I do wish that I were more strong in it than I am.”

Last of all answered Agnes Stanley, and said, “I had rather every hair of my head were burned, if it were never so much worth, than that I will forsake my faith and opinion, which is the true faith.”

The time being now spent, they were commanded to appear again at afternoon in the same place: which commandment being obeyed, the bishop first called for Loseby, and after his accustomed manner willed his articles and answers to be read; in reading thereof, when mention was made of the sacrament of the altar, the bishop with his colleagues put off their caps. Whereat Loseby said, “My lord, seeing you put off your cap, I will put on my cap;” and therewithal did put on his cap. And after, the bishop continuing in his accustomable persuasions, Loseby again said unto him, “My lord, I trust I have the Spirit of truth, which you detest and abhor; for the wisdom of God is foolishness unto you.” Whereupon the bishop pronounced the sentence of condemnation against him: and delivering him unto the sheriff, called for Margaret Hide, with whom he used the like order of exhortations. To whom notwithstanding she said, “I will not depart from my sayings till I be burned: and my lord,” quoth she, “I would see you instruct me with some part of God’s word, and not to give me instructions of holy bread and holy water, for it is no part of the Scripture.” But he, being neither himself, nor any of his, able rightly to accomplish her request, to make short work, used his final reason of convincement, which was the sentence of condemnation; and therefore leaving her off, called for another, viz. Agnes Stanley, who upon the bishop’s like persuasions made this answer: “My lord, whereas you say I am a heretic, I am none; neither yet will I believe you, nor any man that is wise will believe as you do. And as for these that ye say be burnt for heresy, I believe they are true martyrs before God: therefore I will not go from my opinion and faith as long as I live.”

Her talk thus ended, she received the like reward that the other had. And the bishop then turning his tale and manner of enticement unto Thomas Thirtel, received of him likewise this final answer, “My lord, I will not hold with your idolatrous ways, as you do; for I say, the mass is idolatry, and will stick to my faith and belief, so long as the breath is in my body.”

Upon which words he was also condemned as a heretic.

Last of all was Henry Ramsey demanded if he would (as the rest) stand unto his answers, or else recanting the same, come home again, and be a member of their church. Whereunto he answered, “I will not go from my religion and belief as long as I live; and my lord,” quoth he, “your doctrine is naught, for it is not agreeable to God’s word.”

After these words, the bishop, to conclude, pronouncing the sentence of condemnation against him and the rest, as ye have heard, charged the sheriff of London with them; who being thereunto commanded, the 12th day of the same month of April, brought them into Smithfield, where altogether in one fire most joyfully and constantly they ended their temporal lives, receiving there-for the life eternal.

THE STORY OF STEPHEN GRATWICK AND TWO OTHER MARTYRS, BURNED IN ST. GEORGE’S FIELDS, IN SOUTHWARK.

After these moreover, in the month of May, followed three others that suffered in St. George’s-fields in Southwark: William Morant, Stephen Gratwick, with one King, who suffered at the same time.

Among other histories of the persecuted and condemned saints of God, I find the condemnation of none more strange nor unlawful than of this Stephen Gratwick: who first was condemned by the bishop of Winchester and the bishop of Rochester, which were not his ordinaries. Secondly, when he did appeal from those incompetent judges to his right ordinary, his appeal could not be admitted. Thirdly, when they had no other shift to color their inordinate proceedings withal, they suborned one of the priests to come in for a counterfeit and a false ordinary; and sit upon him.

Fourthly, being openly convinced and overturned in his own arguments, yet the said bishop of Winchester, Dr. White, neither would yield to the force of truth, nor suffer any of the audience assistant once to say, God strengthen him. Fifthly, as they brought in a false ordinary to sit upon him; so they pretended false articles against him which were no part of his examinations, but of their devising, to have his blood. Sixthly and lastly, having no other ground nor just matters against him, but only for saying these words, “That which I said I have said,” they read the sentence of death upon him.

And this was the dealing of these men, which needs will be reputed for catholic fathers of the spirituality, succeeders of the apostles, disciples of Christ, pillars of the holy church, and leaders of the people: of whose doings and proceedings, how agreeable they are to the example of Christ and his apostles, I leave to discuss, referring the judgment hereof to them which know the institution of Christ’s religion and doctrine.

Now lest, peradventure, the disordered misrule of these Christmas, lords will not be credited upon the simple narration of the story, ye shall hear the whole discourse of this process, registered by the hand, of the martyr himself, who as he could tell best what was done, so I am sure would not testify otherwise than the truth was, according as you shall hear by his own declaration here following.

THE DECLARATION OF STEPHEN GRATWICK CONCERNING HIS OWN STORY AND CONDEMNATION.

Upon the 25th day of May, in the year of our Lord 1557, I Stephen Gratwick came before the bishop of Winchester, Dr.

White, into St. George’s church in Southwark at eight of the clock in the morning, and then he called me before him, and said unto me, “Stephen Gratwick, how standeth the matter with thee now? Art thou contented to revoke thy heresies, the which thou hast maintained and defended here within my diocese, oftentimes before me? And also upon Sunday last ye stood up in the face of the whole church maintaining your heresies; so that you have offended within the liberty of my diocese. And now I being your ordinary, you must answer to me directly, whether you will revoke them or not, the which I have here in writing: and if so be that you will not revoke them, then I will excommunicate you. And therefore note well what you do, for now I read here the articles against you.”

And so when he had ended, he bade me answer unto them. Gratwick: — “My lord, these articles which you have here objected against me, are not mine, but of your own making; for I never had any of mine examinations written at any time. And therefore these be objections that you lay against me as a snare, to get my blood.

Wherefore I desire your lawful favor, to allow my lawful appeal unto mine ordinary; for I have nothing to do with you. And whereas you do burden me, that I have offended within your diocese, it is nothing so; for I have not enterprized either to preach or teach within your diocese, but was apprehended by mine own bishop and sent prisoner into your diocese, by the consent of the council and mine own ordinary; and therefore I so being in your diocese, you have no cause to let my lawful appeal.”

And with that there came the bishop of Rochester, and was received at the bishop of Winchester’s hands with much gladness, according to their determinate purpose before invented. And so followed the archdeacon of Canterbury. And then the bishop again start up as a man half ravished of his wits for joy, embracing him with many gentle words, and said, that he was very glad of his coming; making himself ignorant thereof, as he thought it should appear to me.

Then said Winchester, Sir, I am very glad of your coming. For here I have one before me, who hath appealed unto you, being his ordinary.” Then said the archdeacon of Canterbury, I know this man very well. He hath been divers times before me.” And then I answered and said, “My lord, I am not of his diocese, not by five miles: for his diocese reacheth on that parties but to the cliffs of Lewes, and I dwelt at Bright Helmson, five miles beyond, in the diocese of the bishop of Chichester; and therefore I am not of his diocese.”

Then the bishop of Winchester, the bishop of Rochester, and the archdeacon of Canterbury, cast their heads together, and laughed: and then they said, my ordinary would be here by and by. And so they sent forth for a counterfeit, instead of mine ordinary; and then I saw them laugh, and I spake unto them and bent to have my blood.”

And then came rushing in their counterfeited bishop, who was the hired servant to deliver me into the hands of the high priest; and the bishop hearing him come, with haste inquired of his man, who was there; and he said, “My lord of Chichester.” Then the bishop of Winchester with haste rose up and said, “Ye are most heartily welcome;” and required him to sit down; and then said the bishop of Winchester to me, “Lo! here is your ordinary: what have you now to say unto him?” Gratwick: — “I have nothing to say unto him. If he have nothing to say unto me, I pray you let me depart.” Then answered my counterfeit ordinary and said,” Here you stand before my lords and me in trial of your faith; and if you bring the truth, we shall by compulsion give place unto you, as it is to be proved by the word; and your doctrine to be heard and embraced for a truth.”

Then I demanded of him whether he meant by authority, or by the judgment of the Spirit of God in his members.” And he answered me, “By authority as well as by the Spirit.”

Then I said, “Now. will I turn. your own argument upon you; for Christ came before the high priests, scribes, and pharisees, bringing the truth with him; being the very truth himself, which truth cannot lie; yet both he and his truth was condemned, and took no place with them, and also the apostles, and all the martyrs that died since Christ. Therefore I turn your own argument upon you; answer it if you can!”

Then he, with a great heat of choler said unto the bishop of Winchester, “Object some articles against him, for he is obstinate, and would fain get out of our hands, therefore hold him to some particular:” so that other answer could I not have of his argument.

Then the bishop of Winchester began to read his objections of his own making against me, and bade me answer unto them. And I said, “No, except you would set the law apart, because I see you are mindful of my blood.” Winchester: — “Now you may see he will not answer to these, but as he hath aforesaid.”

Then spake the counterfeit ordinary again, and said, “My lord, ask him what he saith to the sacrament of the altar.” Then the bishop asked me, as my counterfeit ordinary required him. Gratwick: — “My lord, I do believe that in the sacrament of the Supper of the Lord, truly ministered in both kinds, according to the institution of Christ, unto the worthy receiver, he eateth mystically by faith the body and blood of Christ.” Then I asked him if it were not the truth. And he said, “Yes.” Then said I, “Bear witness of the truth.”

Then the bishop of Winchester, whose head being subtilest to gather upon my words, said, “My lord, see you not how he creepeth away with his heresies, and covereth them privily? Note, how he here separateth the sacrament of the altar from the supper of the Lord, meaning it not to be the true sacrament; and also how he condemneth our ministration in one kind, and alloweth that the unworthy receiver doth not eat and drink the body and blood of Christ; which be sore matters truly weighed, being covered very craftily with his subtle shifts and sophistry; but he shall answer directly or ever he depart.” Gratwick: — “My lord, this is but your gathering of my words, for you before confessed the same sayings to be the truth; and thus you catch at me, and fain would have a vantage for my blood. But seeing you judge me not to mean the sacrament of the altar, now come to the probation of the same sacrament, and prove it to be the true sacrament, and I am with you; or else if you can prove your church to be the true church, I am also with you.”

But then he called to memory the last probation of the church and sacraments, how he before was driven to forsake the Scriptures, and to show me by good reason how they might minister the sacrament in one kind. And his reason was this: — Like as a man or woman dieth on a sudden, and so when we have given him the body of Christ, in the meantime the party dieth, and so he eateth the body of Christ, and not drinketh his blood. And this was his simple shift in the proving of their sacraments: so that he was now half abashed to begin that matter again. But yet a little subtle shift he brought in, and said, “What sayest thou by the administration of the priests every day for themselves, and they minister in both kinds?” To that I answered, “You have two administrations; for I am sure at Easter you minister but in one kind, and therefore it is not according to the institution of Christ, but after your own imaginations.” Winchester: — “Why, then what sayest thou to these words, ‘Take, eat; this is my body.’ These are the words of Christ. Wilt thou deny them?” Gratwick: — “My lord, they are the words of Scripture, I affirm them, and not deny them.” Rochester: — “Why, then thou dost confess in the sacrament of the altar to be a real presence, the selfsame body that was born of the Virgin Mary, and is ascended up into heaven.” Gratwick: — “My lord, what do you now mean? Do you not also mean a visible body? for it cannot be but of necessity — if it be a real presence, and a material body, it must be a visible body also.” Winchester: — “Nay, I say unto thee, it is a real presence, and a material body, and an invisible body too.” Gratwick: — “My lord, then it must needs be a fantastical body; for if it should be a material and invisible, as you affirm, then it must needs be a fantastical body: for it is apparent, that Christ’s human body was visible and seen,” Then the bishop of Winchester brake out and said, “When didst thou see him? I pray thee tell me.” To that I answered and said, “A simple argument it is: because our corporal eyes cannot comprehend Christ, doth that prove or follow, that he is invisible, because we cannot see him?”

And with that the bishop of Winchester began to wax weary of his argument, and removed his talk to Judas in eating the sacrament, and said, “He ate him wholly, as the apostles did.”

And then I asked him, if he meant Christ’s flesh and blood, the which he speaketh of in John 6, and saith, “He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life in me.” To that the bishop of Winchester answered and said, “Yea.”

Then said I, “Of necessity Judas must needs he saved, because he did eat the flesh, and drink the blood of Christ, as you have affirmed; and also all the ungodly that die without repentance, because they have eaten your sacrament, which you say is the flesh and blood of Christ; therefore of necessity they shall receive the benefit thereof, that is, eternal life; which is a great absurdity to grant. And then of necessity it must follow, that all that eat not, and drink not of your sacrament, shall finally perish and be damned; for Christ saith, ‘Except ye eat my flesh and drink my blood, you can have no life in you.’ And you have afore said that your sacrament is the same flesh and blood that Christ speaketh of.

And here I prove, that all children, then, that die under age to receive the sacrament, by your own argument must be damned; which is horrible blasphemy to speak. Now here I turn your own argument upon you; answer it if you can!” Winchester: — “My lord, do you not see what deceitful arguments he bringeth in here against us, mingled with sophistry, and keepeth himself in vantage, so that we can get no hold upon him? But I say unto thee, thou perverse heretic, I see now thou art a perverse fellow. I had a better opinion of thee; but now I see we lose our time about thee.

Yet I answer thee, St. Paul doth open John 6 plainly, if thou wilt see; for he saith, ‘They eat Christ’s body, and drink his blood unworthily, and that was the cause of their damnation.’” Gratwick: — “My lord, take heed ye do not add to the text; for he that addeth unto the text, is accursed of God. And I am sure here you have brought more than Paul hath spoken; for he saith not, because they have eaten his body and drunk his blood unworthily; but St. Paul saith, ‘Whosoever shall eat of this bread, and drink of the cup unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of Christ.’ Note, my lord, he saith not as you have affirmed, but clean contrary.”

And with that they were all in a great rage. And the bishop of Winchester said, I belied the text. And then I called for the text.

And he said, I asked thee even now, if thou understoodest Latin, and thou saidst, “Whether I can or no, the people shall bear witness in English.”

And so I called again for the Testament, whether it were Latin or English, for the trial of the text.

And then when the bishop of Winchester saw that I cared not whether of the translations I had, he stood up, thinking to beguile some simple man that had a book there, and bade him that had an English Testament to bring it in, that he might get some hold at him that should bring a Testament. But God disappointed him thereof, and so he flew away from his matter, and began to rail upon me, and said my subtle arguments should not serve; for if I would not answer directly, I should nevertheless be excommunicated. “For,” said he, “I see a mad toy in thine head: thou gloriest much in thy talk, and thinkest now the people are come about thee, that thou shalt encourage them with thy constant heretical opinion. For the last day, when thou wast before me upon Sunday, in St. Mary Overy’s church, thou there reprovedst my sermon, and hadst a thousand by thee at the least, to bid God strengthen thee: but now let me see him here, that dare open his mouth to bid God strengthen thee; he shall die the death that thou shalt die.”

To that I answered, “My lord, I know your cruelty doth extend more largely than your pity. Good experience so I have to say, for you keep men in prison a year or two, taking their books from them, permitting them not so much as a Testament to look upon for their soul’s comfort, the which all men ought to have; and so you entreat them more like brute beasts than christian men.” Winchester: — “No, sir; we will use you as we will use the child: for if the child will hurt himself with the knife, we will keep the knife from him. So, because you will damn your souls with the word, therefore you shall not have it.” Gratwick: — “My lord, a simple argument you bring to maintain and cover your fault. Are you not ashamed to make the word the cause of our damnation? I never knew any man but only you, that did not affirm our sins to be the cause of our damnation, and not the word, as you say; and therefore if your argument be good, then this is good also: because that some men do abuse drink, therefore the benefit of drink should be taken from all men, or any other such like good gift.” Winchester: — “My lords, here we lose much time, for this fellow is perverse, speaking nothing but sophistry and perverse questions; so that we can get no advantage upon him.”

Then spake my counterfeit ordinary, as one half asleep all this while; yet somewhat with haste when he was awaked, he began to tell his tale, and said, “Read these articles against him once more, and if he will not answer them, take him upon his first words: ‘That which I said, that I have said.’” Then the bishop of Winchester began to read them again. But I said unto him, I would not answer them, because they were none of mine examinations, but objections of their own making, because they would have my blood. But yet I said, if they would set the law apart, I would talk my conscience freely to them.

Then my counterfeit ordinary began to speak again, charging me with the saying of St. Peter, that I should render account of such hope as was in me. Gratwick: — “So can I do, and yet I shall not please you; for here I now render my hope as St. Peter willeth me: I believe only in Jesus Christ to have my whole salvation in him, by him, and through him; but I perceive you would have me render my faith in such sort, as you may have my blood, and therefore you bring good Scriptures, and evil apply them.” f290 Winchester: — “Why, this fellow is perverted, and we shall get no more at his hands than we have already; therefore let us pronounce sentence against him, for we do but lose our time.” Gratwick: — “Nay, good my lord, seeing you will needs have my blood, let me say a little more for myself. Upon Sunday last, when I was before you, you preached this which was a truth, and agreeable to the doctrine of the apostle St. James, and said, ‘If any man think himself a religious man, and in the meantime seduce his tongue or his heart, the same man’s religion is a vain religion.’ And so my lord, you, standing there in the pulpit, in the meantime seduced your tongue to slander us poor prisoners, being there present in iron bonds, burdening us with the sect of Arians, and with the sect of Herodians, and with the sect of Anabaptists, and with the sect of Sacramentaries, and with the sect of Pelagians. And when we stood up to purge ourselves thereof, you said you would cut out our tongues, and cause us to be pulled out of the church by violence., But there you gave yourself a shrewd blow, for your tongue in: the meantime slandered your neighbor. For I, my lord, will give my life against all these heresies, the which you there burdened us withal, even as I will give my life against that wherein I now stand before you.” f291 And with that he was raging angry, and caught my condemnation, and said, “Thou wilt grant here no more, but this word; that I have said, I have said. And here I gather matter enough to condemn thee, for this is a confirmation of all that thou hast heretofore said.”

Then I answered, “If you can prove that ever any of mine examinations were written, it were enough; but you have nothing against me, but objections of your own making.” Winchester: — “Have at thee now. If thou wilt not yield, I will pronounce sentence against thee. And so he proceeded forth onward apace, cursing and banning in Latin; so that I told him, “If the people might hear it in English, they would think you an uncharitable bishop.”

And then I said, “Stay, my lord, and note what you do; for you have neither temporal law, nor spiritual, here against me in any just cause.”

Then stepped forth a gentleman, and said unto my lord, “Take heed what ye do; for he doth here say, that you have no title nor cause, why you should condemn him.”

Then the bishop looked about him again, and asked me if I would recant. I asked him, whereof I should recant.

Then said the bishop, “Are you there? Nay then I know what I have to do.” And so he proceeded forth in reading my condemnation. And there was another gentleman which began to snap and snatch at me: and then said I, “I would God I had known this, ere ever I had come from home; I would surely have put on my breech, and not had my skin thus torn.” And all this while the bishop read forth still.

At last his chaplains cried, “Stop, stop, my lord: for now he will recant.” And then the bishop asked me again. And I answered and said, “My lord, my faith is grounded more steadfastly than to change in a moment; it is no process of time can. alter me, unless my faith were as the waves of the sea.” And so the bishop made an end, and delivered me into the hands of the sheriff, to be carried prisoner to the Marshalsea again.

And when I was condemned, I desired God with a loud voice, that he would not lay my blood to their charge, if it were his good will; and so then they refused my prayer, and sent me away. Then I began to talk as I went, and they cried, “Cut out his tongue, or stop his mouth ;” and so I was brought to the Marshalsea, and lapped in iron bands. Therefore I pray unto God that they unto whom this present writing shall come, may take example by my death and soldier-fare. So be it.

By me Stephen Gratwick , condemned for God’s everlasting truth.

STEPHEN GRATWIEK TO THE READER.

Here, for want of time, I have left out many matters, because the Lord hath hastened the time, so that I have written but the briefness of the matter in probation of faith, and the reward of faith, the which the bishop of Rochester and I debated upon; the which matter I would have been very glad to have set down in writing.

Also much more talk there was, that the bishop of Winchester and I had concerning my worldly friends and personal, estate; for he played Satan with me. He carried me up to the mountains, and there told me, my learning was good, and my eloquence, and also my knowledge; save that I did abuse it, said he. And then he fell to praising of my person, that it was comely, and worthy to serve a prince. Thus Satan flattered with me, to make me answer unto such objections as he would lay against me, that I might fall into his diocese.

Thus Stephen Gratwick, this christian martyr, being wrongfully condemned by the bishop of Winchester (as ye have heard), was burned with William Morant, and one King, in St. George’s-fields, about the latter end of May.

SEVEN GODLY MARTYRS, FIVE WOMEN AND TWO MEN, BURNED AT MAIDSTONE, FOR THE WORD OF TRUTH, AND PROFESSING THE SINCERE RELIGION OF CHRIST, JUNE 18.

I showed a little before, how after the universal proclamation was sent and set forth by the Icing and queen in the month of February last, the storm of persecution began in all places to rise (whereof some part also is declared before): but yet in no place more than in the country and diocese of Canterbury, by reason of certain the aforesaid inquisitors, being now armed with authority, but especially by reason of Richard Thornton suffragan of Dover, and Harpsfield archdeacon of Canterbury, who of their own nature were so furious and fiery against the harmless flock of Christ, that there was no need of any proclamation to stir up the coals of their burning cruelty, by reason whereof many a godly saint lyeth slain under the altar; as in divers places of this book well may appear.

And now to return to the said diocese of Canterbury again, in the next month following, being the month of June, the 18th day of the same, were seven christian and true faithful martyrs of Christ burned at Maidstone , a171 whose names here follow: Joan Bradbridge of Staplehurst, Walter Appleby of Maidstone, Petronil his wife, Edmund Allin of Frittenden, Katherine his wife, John Manning’s wife of Maidstone, and Elizabeth a blind malden.

As concerning the general articles commonly objected to them in the public consistory, and the order of their condemnation, it differeth not much. from the usual manner expressed before, neither did their answers in effect much differ from the others that suffered under the same ordinary in the foresaid diocese of Canterbury.

Now as touching their accusers and manner of apprehension, and their private conflicts with the adversaries, I find no great matter coming to my hands, save only of Edmund Allin some intimation is given me, how his troubles came, and what was his cause and answers before the justices, as here consequently ye shall understand.

THE STORY OF EDMUND ALLIN.

This Allin was a miller, of the parish of Frittenden in Kent, and in a dear year, when many poor people were like to starve, he fed them, and sold his corn better cheap by half than others did; and did not that only, but also fed them with the food of life, reading to them the Scriptures, and interpreting them. This being known to the popish priests thereabout dwelling, by the procurement of them, namely, of John Tailor parson of Frittenden, and Thomas Henden parson of Staplehurst, he was eftsoons complained of to the justices, and brought before sir John Baker knight; who, first sending for them, committed both him and his wife to ward, but not long after they were let out, I know not how, and so went over unto Calais, where, after that he had continued a certain space, he began to be troubled in conscience; and there meeting with one John Webbe, of the same parish of Frittenden (who was likewise fled from the tyranny of sir John Baker, and parson Tailor), said unto him, that he could not be in quiet there, whatsoever the cause was; “for God,” said he, “had something to do for him in England.” And thus shortly he returned home again to the parish of Frittenden, where was a cruel priest, there parson, called John Tailor.

This parson Tailor, being informed by his brother sexton, that Edmund Allin the miller, and his wife, were returned, and were not at mass-time in the church; as he was the same time in the midst of his mass, upon a Sunday, a little before the elevation (as they term it), even almost at the lifting up of his Romish god, he turned him to the people in a great rage, and commanded them with all speed to go unto their house, and apprehend them, and he would come to them with as much haste as might be possible.

Which promise he well performed; for he had not so soon made an end of Ite, missa est,” and the vestments off his back, but by and by he was at the house; and there laying hand of the said Allin, caused him again to be brought to sir John Baker, with a grievous complaint of his exhorting and reading the Scriptures to the people: and so were he and his wife sent to Maidstone prison. — Witnessed by Richard Fletcher vicar of Cranbrooke, and John Webbe of Frittenden.

They were not so soon in prison, but master Baker immediately sent unto their house certain of his men, John Dove, Thomas Best, Thomas Linley, Percival Barber, with the aforesaid John Tailor, parson of Frittenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, to take an inventory of all the goods that were in the house, where they found, in the bedstraw, a casket locked with a padlock; and so, cutting the wist thereof, opened it, and found therein a sackcloth bag of money, containing the sum of thirteen or fourteen pounds, partly in gold and partly in silver; which money after they had told, and put in the bag again, like good carvers for themselves, they carried it away with them.

Besides also they found there certain books, as Psalters, Bibles, and other writings; all which books with the money, were delivered to the foresaid priest Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst; and after, in the reign of this queen, were by right law recovered a172 from him again, as in records remaineth to be seen.

Thus good Edmund Allin and his wife, being maliciously accused, wrongfully imprisoned, and cruelly spoiled and robbed of all their goods, were brought (as is aforesaid) before sir John Baker the justice, to be examined; who, taunting and reviling him without all mercy and pity, asked him if those were the fruits of his gospel, to have conventicles to gather people together, to make conspiracies to sow sedition and rebellion. And thus he began with him to reason.

THE TALK OR REASONING BETWEEN SIR JOHN BAKER, COLLINS, HIS CHAPLAIN, AND EDMUND ALLIN. Baker: — “Who gave thee authority to preach and interpret? Art thou a priest? Art thou admitted thereunto? Let me see thy license.”

Martin Collins, sir John Baker’s schoolmaster, said, “Surely he is an arrant heretic, and worthy to be burned.” Allin: — “And it may please your honor to give me leave to answer in the cause of my faith; I am persuaded that God hath given me this authority, as he hath given to all other Christians. Why are we called Christians, if we do not follow Christ, if we do not read his law, if we do not interpret it to others that have not so much understanding? Is not Christ our Father? Shall not the son follow the Father’s steps? Is not Christ our Master, and shall the scholar be inhibited to learn and preach his precepts? Is not Christ our Redeemer, and shall not we praise his name, and serve him that hath redeemed us from sin and damnation? Did not Christ, being but twelve years of age, dispute with the doctors, and interpret the prophet Isaiah?(Luke 4) and yet notwithstanding he was neither of the tribe of Levi, which were priests, but of the royal tribe of Judah; neither had taken any outward priesthood: wherefore, if we be Christians, we must do the same.” Collins: — “And it shall like your honor, what a knave is this, that compareth himself with Christ!” Baker: — “Let him alone, he will pump out anon an infinite heap of heresies. Hast thou any more to say for thyself?” Allin: — “Yea that I have. Adam was licensed of God, and Abraham was commanded to teach his children and posterity. And so David teacheth in divers Psalms. And Solomon also preached to the people, as the book of the Preacher proveth very well, where he teacheth that there is no immortal, felicity in this life, but in the next. .And Noah taught them that were disobedient in his days, and therefore is called ‘the eighth preacher of righteousness,’ in the second Epistle of Peter.

Also in Numbers 11., where Moses had chosen seventy elders to help him to teach and rule the rest, Eldad and Medad preached in the tents; wherefore Joshua, being offended, complained to Moses that Eldad and Medad did preach without license. To whom Moses answered, and wished that all the people could do the like. Why should I be long?

Most of the priests were not of the tribe of Levi and Aaron.” Collins: — “These are authorities of the Old Testament, and therefore abrogated; but thou art a fool, and knowest no school-points.

Is not the law divided into the law ceremonial, moral, and judicial?” Allin: — “I grant that the ceremonies ceased when Christ came, as St.

Paul proveth to the Hebrews; and to the Colossians, where he saith, ‘Let no man judge you in any part of the Sabbath-day, new moon, or other ceremonies, which are figures of things to come; for Christ is the body.’”(Colossians 1) Collins: — “And are not the judicials abrogated by Christ?” Allin: — “They are confirmed both by Christ in Matthew 5 and by Paul in 1 Timothy 4: ‘The law,’ saith he, ‘is not set forth for the virtuous and godly; but for men-slayers, perjured, adulterers, and such like.’” Collins: — “Thou art a heretic. Wilt thou call the judicials of Moses again? Wilt thou have adultery punished with death? disobedient children to their parents to be stoned? Wilt thou have ‘legem talionis?’

But thou art an ass. Why should I speak Latin to thee, thou erroneous rebel? Shall we now smite out eye for eye, tooth for tooth? Thou art worthy to have thy teeth and tongue plucked out.” f295 Allin: — “If we had that law, we should neither have disobedient children, neither adulterers, neither false witness-bearers, neither ruffians.” Baker: — “Master Collins, let us return to our first matter. Why didst thou teach the people, whom thou saidst thou didst feed both bodily and spiritually, being no priest?” Allin: — “Because that we are all kings to rule our affections, priests to preach out the virtues and word of God, as Peter writeth, and lively stones to give light to others. For as out of flint stones cometh forth that which is able to set all the world on fire, so out of Christians should spring the beams of the gospel, which should inflame all the world, if we must give a reckoning of our faith to every man, and now to you demanding it, then must we study the Scriptures, and practice them. What availeth it a man to have meat, and will eat none; and apparel, and will wear none; or to have an occupation, and to teach none; or to be a lawyer, and utter none? Shall every artificer be suffered, yea and commended, to practice his faculty and science, and the Christian forbidden to exercise his? Doth not every lawyer practice his law? Is not every Christian a follower of Christ? Shall ignorance, which is condemned in all sciences, be practiced of Christians? Doth not St. Paul forbid any man’s Spirit to be quenched?

Doth he prohibit an man that hath any of these gifts, which he repeateth (1 Corinthians 14), to practice the same. Only he forbiddeth women, but no man. The Jews never forbade any. Read the Acts of the Apostles. And the restraint was made by Gregory, the ninth a173 pope of that name, as I heard one, a learned man, preach in king Edward’s days.’ Collins: — “This villain (and it like you honor) is mad. By my priesthood, I believe that he will say, that a priest hath no more authority than another man. Doth not a priest bind and loose?” a174 Allin: — “No, my sin bindeth me, and my repentance looseth. God forgiveth sin only, and no priest: for every Christian when he sinneth, bindeth himself, and when he repenteth, looseth himself. And if any other be loosed from his sin by my exhortation, I am said to loose him; and if he persevere in sin, notwithstanding my exhortation, I am said to bind him, although it is God that bindeth and looseth, and giveth the increase. Therefore saith Christ,(Matthew 18.) ‘Wheresoever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them; and whosesoever sins they forgive, they are forgiven; and whosesoever they retain, they are retained.’ Neither hath the pope any keys save the keys of error; for the key that openeth the lock to God’s mysteries and to salvation, is the key of faith and repentance. And as I have heard learned men reason, St. Augustine and Origen, with others, are of this opinion.”

Then they reviled him, and laid him in the stocks all the night; wherewith certain that were better minded, being offended with such extremity, willed Allin to keep his conscience to himself, and to follow Baruch’s counsel in the sixth chapter: “Wherefore when ye see the multitude of people worshipping them behind and before, say ye in your hearts, O Lord, it is thou that ought only to be worshipped.” Wherewith he was persuaded to go to hear mass the next day; and suddenly, before the sacring, went out; and considered in the church-yard with himself, that such a little cake between the priest’s fingers could not be Christ, nor a material body, neither to have soul, life, sinews, bones, flesh, legs, head, arms, nor breast; and lamented that he was seduced by the place of Baruch, which his conscience gave him to be no Scripture, or else to have another meaning, And after this he was brought again before sir John Baker, who asked why he did refuse to worship the blessed sacrament of the altar. Allin: — “It is an idol.” Collins: — “It is God’s body.” Allin: — “It is not.” Collins: — “By the mass it is.” Allin: — “It is bread.” Collins: — “How provest thou that?” Allin: — “When Christ sat at his supper, and gave them bread to eat.” Collins: — “Bread, knave?” Allin: — “Yea bread, which you call Christ’s body. Sat he still at the table, or was he both in their mouths, and at the table? If he were in their mouths, and at the table, then had he two bodies, or else had a fantastical body; which is an absurdity to say it.” Baker: — “Christ’s body was glorified, and might be in more places than one.” Allin: — “Then had he more bodies than one, by your own placing of him.” Collins: — “Thou ignorant ass! the schoolmen say, that a glorified body may be everywhere.” Allin: — “If his body was not glorified till it rose again, then was it not glorified at his last supper; and therefore was not at the table, and in their mouths by your own reason.” Collins: — “A glorified body occupieth no place.” Allin: — “That which occupieth no place, is neither God, nor any thing else. But Christ’s body, say you, occupieth no place; therefore it is neither God, nor any thing else. If it be nothing, then is your religion nothing. If it be God, then have we four in one Trinity, which is. the person of the Father, the person of the Son, the person of the Holy Ghost, the human nature of Christ. If Christ be nothing, which you must needs confess, if he occupieth no place, then is our study in vain, our faith frustrate, and our hope without reward.” Collins: — “This rebel will believe nothing but Scripture. How knowest thou that it is the Scripture but by the church? and so saith St. Augustine.” f297 Allin: — “I cannot tell what St. Augustine saith, but I am persuaded, that it is scripture by divers arguments; first, that the law worketh in me my condemnation. The law telleth me that of myself I am damned; and this damnation, master Collins, you must find in yourself, or else you shall never come to repentance. For as this grief and sorrow of conscience, without faith, is desperation; so is a glorious and Romish faith, without the lamentation of a man’s sins, presumption. The second is the gospel, which is the power and spirit of God. ‘This Spirit,’ saith St. Paul, ‘certifieth my spirit, that I am the son of God,’ and that these are the Scriptures. The third are the wonderful works of God, which cause me to believe that there is a God, though we glorify him not as God.(Romans 1.) The sun, the moon, the stars, and other his works (as David discourseth in Psalm 19.), declare that there is a God, and that these are the Scriptures because that they teach nothing else but God, and his power, majesty, and might; and because the Scripture teacheth nothing dissonant from this prescription of nature.

And fourthly, because that the word of God gave authority to the church in paradise, saying, that the seed of the woman should break down the serpent’s head. This seed is the gospel; this is all the Scriptures, and by this we are assured of eternal life; and these words, ‘The seed of the woman shall break the serpent’s head,’ gave authority to the church, and not the church to the word.” Baker: — “I heard say, that you spake against priests and bishops.” Allin: — “I spake for them; for now they have so much living, and especially bishops, archdeacons, and deans, that they neither can nor will teach God’s word. If they had a hundred pounds a piece, then would they apply their study: now they cannot for other affairs.” Collins: — “Who will then set his children to school?” Allin: — “Where there is now one set to school for that end, there would be forty, because that one bishop’s living, divided into thirty or forty parts, would find so many as well learned men as the bishops be now, who have all this living, neither had Peter or Paul any such revenue.” Baker: — “Let us despatch him; he will mar all.” Collins: — “If every man had a hundred pounds, as he saith, it would make more learned men.” Baker: — “But our bishops would be angry, if that they knew it.” Allin: — “It were for a commonwealth to have such bishoprics divided, for the further increase of learning.” Baker: — “What sayest thou to the sacrament?” Allin: - “As I said before.” Baker: - “Away with him.”

And thus was he carried to prison, and afterwards burned. And thus much touching the particular story of Edward Allin and his wife; who, with the five other martyrs above named, being seven (to wit, five women and two men), were altogether burned at Maid-stone the year and month aforementioned, and the 18th day of the same month.

ANOTHER STORY OF LIKE CRUELITY, SHOWED UPON OTHER SEVEN MARTYRS, BURNT AT CANTERBURY; THREE MEN AND FOUR WOMEN.

Among such infinite seas of troubles in these most dangerous days, who can withhold himself from bitter tears, to see the madding rage of these pretensed catholics, who, being never satisfied with blood to maintain their carnal kingdom, presume so highly to violate the precise law of God’s commandments, in slaying the simple poor lambs of the glorious congregation of Jesus Christ, and that for the true testimony of a good conscience, in confessing the immaculate gospel of their salvation? What heart will not lament the murdering mischief of these men, who for want of work do so wreak their tine on silly poor women, whose weak imbecility the more strength it lacketh by natural imperfection, the more it ought to be helped, or at least pitied; and not oppressed of men that be stronger, and especially of priests that should be charitable.

But blessed be the Lord Omnipotent, who supernaturally hath endued from above such weak creatures with such manly stomach and fortitude, so constantly to withstand the uttermost extremity of these pitiless persecutors: as he did before strengthen the mother of the seven sons in the Maccabees, and as he hath done since with divers and sundry other godly women in these our latter days, partly before mentioned, and partly to be mentioned hereafter, as here presently may appear by the martyrdom of seven hereunder following, of the which were four women and three men, burnt together at Canterbury the 19th of the said month of June, in the year aforesaid, whose names are these: John Fishcock, f299 Nicholas White, Nicholas Pardue, Barbara Final, widow, Bradbridge’s widow, Wilson’s wife, Benden’s wife.

As it were too tedious exactly and particularly to prosecute the several story of every one of these godly martyrs; so I cannot pass over untouched the cruel and unchristian handling of Alice Benden during her imprisonment, according as I have received by the faithful relation of them which best were acquainted with her, and partly also of some doers in the matter, being her own natural brethren. The story is thus:

THE ORDER OF THE IMPRISONMENT AND TRAGICAL HANDLING OF ALICE BENDEN, Wife of Edward Benden, of the Parish of Staplehurst, in the County of Kent; for the Testimony of Christ’s Gospel.

First Alice Benden was brought before one master Roberts, of Cranbrooke, in said county, the 14th day of October, in the year of our Lord 1550, of whom she was demanded why she would not go to the church. And she answered, that she could not so do with a good and clear conscience, because there was much idolatry committed against the glory of God. For the which with many mocks and taunts she was sent to prison, where she lay fourteen days; for on the 20th day of October her husband required his neighbors, the wealthy men of Staplehurst, to write to the bishop of Dover, who had the chief government of the tyrannical sword in Kent for those days, which they did, desiring him to send her home.

Wherefore the bishop called her before him, and asked her if she would go home, and go home and to the church. Whereunto she answered, “If I would have so done, I need not to have come hither.” “Then wilt thou go home, and be shriven of thy parish priest?” And she said, No, that would she not. “Well,” said he, “go thy ways home, and go to the church when thou wilt.” Whereunto she answered nothing; but a priest that stood by, said, “She saith, she will, my lord.” Wherefore he let her go, and she came forthwith home.

On the Saturday following, her husband willed her to go to the church; which she both then and else when refused to do.

Wherefore on the Sunday, fourteen days after, he, going to the church, came into the company of divers inhabitants of the same parish; among whom, through his fond talk and behavior, he procured her to be sent to sir John Guilford, who commanded her to prison again: yea, and the more to utter his own shame, the said her husband took money of the constable to carry her to prison, the price of his wife’s blood, meaning indeed to carry her to prison himself. But she, having much more care of his honest and good report, than he had regard (as it is easy to see) of his own infamy, and no less ashamed of his so rude and unnatural doings, chose rather to commit herself willingly into the hands of her enemies, than that the world should witness against her husband of so facinorous a fact. Wherefore she went to the constable, desiring him to go with her. But he answered that he could not so do, but granted her his boy to go with her, with whom she went to prison, namely, the castle of Canterbury, according to the commandment given.

Where this one thing is worthy to be noted, that while she was in this prison, she practiced with a prison-fellow of hers, the wife of one Potkin, to live both of them with twopence-halfpenny a day, to try thereby how well they could sustain penury and hunger, before they were put to it. For they had heard, that when they should be removed from thence to the bishop’s prison, their livings should be but three farthings a-piece a day, and did indeed both so live for fourteen days ere she was from thence removed.

The 22d day of January following, her husband went again to the bishop, desiring him to deliver his wife out of prison; but he said she was an obstinate heretic, and would not be reformed; and therefore said that he could not deliver her.

Then said he, “My lord, she hath a brother, whose name is Roger Hall, that resorteth unto her. If your lordship could keep him from her, she would turn; for he comforteth her, giveth her money, and persuadeth her not to return or relent.”

This occasion was not so soon given, but it was as quickly taken, and as cruelly put in execution. For the bishop commanding her upon the same to a prison, called Monday’s Hole, there also he gave a strait charge, that if at any time her brother came, he should be taken and apprehended. This prison was within a court where the prebend’s chambers were, being a vault beneath the ground, and being before the window inclosed with a pale, of height, by estimation, four feet and a half, and distant from the same three feet, so that she looking from beneath, might only see such as stood at the pale. After this her brother sought often for her, with no less danger of life than diligence. But for the unknown situation of the place, it being also bur rarely used for a prison, and the matter as closely kept, as it was secretly done, he could never come to understand of. her being there, until through God’s merciful will and unsearchable providence, he coming thither very rathe in a morning, her keeper being then gone to the church to ring (for he was a bellringer), chanced to hear her voice, as she poured out unto God her sorrowful complaints, saying the psalms of David. And there could he none otherwise relieve her, but by putting money in a loaf of bread, and sticking the same on a pole, and so reached it unto her; for neither with meat nor drink he could sustain her. And this was five weeks after her coming thither; all the which time no creature was known to come at her, more than her keeper.

Her lying in that prison was only upon a little short straw between a pair of stocks and a stone wall; being allowed three farthings a day, that is, half-penny bread, and a farthing drink, neither could she get any more for her money. Wherefore she desired to have her whole allowance in bread, and used water for her drink. Thus did she lie nine weeks; during all which time she never changed her apparel, whereby she became at the last a most piteous and loathsome creature to behold.

At her first coming into this place, she did grievously bewail with great sorrow and lamentation, and reasoned with herself, why her Lord God did with his so heavy justice suffer her to be sequestered from her loving fellows into so extreme misery.

In these dolorous mournings did she continue, till on a night as she was in her sorrowful supplications, rehearsing this verse of the psalm, “Why art thou so heavy, O my soul?” And again, “The right hand of the Most High can change all;” she received comfort in the midst of her miseries, and after that continued very joyful until her delivery from the same.

About the 25th day of March, in the year of our Lord 1557, she was called before the bishop, who demanded of her, whether she would now go home, and go to the church or no, promising her great favor, if she would be reformed and do as they did.

To whom she answered, “I am throughly persuaded by the great extremity that you have already showed me, that you are not of God, neither can your doings be godly; and I see,” saith she, “that you seek my utter destruction;” - showing how lame she then was of cold taken, and for lack of food, whilst she lay in that painful prison; whereby she was not able to move herself without great pain.

Then did the bishop deliver her from that filthy hole and sent her to West-gate, where, after she had been changed, and for a while been clean kept, her skin did wholly so peel and scale off, as if she had been with some mortal venom poisoned. Here she continued till the latter end of April; at which time they called her before them, and with others condemned her, committing her then to the prison called the Castle; where she continued till the slaughter-day, which was the 19th day of June, when by terrible fire they took away her life.

When she was at the stake, she cast her handkerchief unto one John Banks, requiring him to keep the same in memory of her, and from about her middle she took a white lace, which she gave to the keeper, desiring him to give the same to her brother Roger Hall, and to tell him that it was the last band that she was bound with, except the chain. A shilling also of Philip and Mary she took forth, which her father had bowed a175 and sent her when she was first sent to prison, desiring that her said brother should with obedient salutations render the same to her father again, and show him that it was the first piece of money that he sent her after her troubles began, which (as she protested) she had kept, and now sent him to do him to understand, that she never lacked money while she was in prison.

With this Alice Benden were burned also the residue of the other blessed martyrs above named, being seven in number; who, being brought to the place where they should suffer for the Lord’s cause at Canterbury, undressed themselves joyfully to the fire; and being ready thereto, they all (like the communion of saints) kneeled down, and made their humble prayers unto the Lord with such zeal and affection as even the enemies of the cross of Christ could not but like it. When they had made invocation together, they rose and went to the stake, where, being compassed with horrible flames of fire, they yielded their souls and lives gloriously into the hand of the Lord; *unto whose eternity the Son of God bring us all.

Amen.* Bradbridge’s wife, when she was condemned of the bishop to be burned, had two children named Patience and Charity; who then said to the bishop, that if he would needs burn her, yet she trusted, that he would take and keep Patience and Charity; meaning her two children. “Nay,” quoth the bishop, “by the faith of my body I will meddle with neither of them both.”

THE TROUBLES AND EXAMINATIONS OF MATTHEW PLAISE, WEAVER OF THE PARISH OF STONE, IN THE COUNTY OF KENT.

Unto these holy martyrs of Kent above specified, whereof seven suffered at Maidstone, and seven at Canterbury, I thought not unmeet here also to be adjoined the examination of Matthew Plaise, a weaver, of the same county of Kent, and a faithful Christian; who, being apprehended and imprisoned likewise, for the testimony of a good conscience, in the castle of Canterbury, was brought to examination before the bishop of Dover, and Harpsfield the archdeacon, as here is to be read and seen.

THE EXAMINATION AND ANSWERS OF MATTHEW PLAISE, Before Thornton, Bishop of Dover; Harpsfield, Archdeacon; Collins, Commissary, and other Inquisitors, anne 1557.

First, when I came before the bishop, he asked me whether I were not of that diocese, and where I dwelt; for that was my first article.

I answered, I was of the parish of Stone, in Kent, and subject unto the king and queen of England.

Then he said, I was indicted by twelve men at Ashford, at the sessions, for heresy. I said, that was sooner said than proved.

Then he said, it was the truth that he had spoken to me, for he had whereby to prove it. Then I desired him to let me hear it, and I would answer to it.

But he said he would not do so, but I should answer to my article, yea or nay. I said, he could not; for I was not at Ashford, and therefore he had nothing to lay to my charge. “But now I perceive you go about to lay a net, to have my blood.”

After many words betwixt the bishop and me, the archdeacon said, “Peace, peace, we do not desire thy blood, but we are glad to hear that thou art no heretic;” with many flattering words: and said, yet I was suspected of heresy, and if I would be content to confess how I did believe as concerning those articles, they would gladly teach me.

But I said, “I do not think so, for I talked with one of your doctors, and after long talk, he would needs know how I did believe in the sacrament; and I recited unto him the text, and because I would not make unto him an exposition, he would teach me nothing. Yet I prayed him for my learning to write his mind; and if it were the truth, I would believe him. And this I did desire him for the love of God, but it would not be.”

Then said he, it was not so, he durst swear upon a book. I said it would be so proved.

Then he stood up, with a long process, and said, he would tell me the truth, and was sure that the same doctor did believe as he did. I asked him how he knew that, :seeing St. Paul doth say, that no man knoweth what is in man, but the Spirit which dwelleth in him: “but if you wist what Christ meant by these words, ‘I require mercy and not sacrifice,’(Matthew 12.) you would not kill innocents.”

The bishop began with me again, and charged me in the king and queen’s name, and the lord cardinal’s, to answer yea or nay to the articles that followed.

Then I commanded, in His name that should come in flaming fire with his mighty angels to render vengeance to the disobedient, and to all those that believed not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, which should be punished with everlasting damnation, that he should speak nothing but the truth grounded upon Christ and his apostles, and then I would answer him, or else not.

Then he was very angry, and said, if I would not answer, he would condemn me indeed, unless I would answer every article. “Well,” said I, “If you do, you shall be guilty of my blood, and prove yourself a murderer.”

Then the archdeacon took the articles in his hand, and read the second article, which was, that I was a christian man, and did believe in their mother the catholic church, and the determination thereof. I said, I was a christian man indeed, and therefore they had nothing against me.

Then said he, “What sayest thou to the catholic church, which hath so long continued, except it were nine or ten years that this heresy hath sprung up here in this realm?” I said, “No man can accuse me of any thing spoken against the catholic church of Christ.”

Then said the bishop, “Dost thou not believe the Creed?” Plaise: — “Yes, verily, I believe my Creed, and all that is written in the Testament of Christ, with the rest of the Scriptures.” “Then,” saith he, “thou dost confess that there is a catholic church; I am glad of that. But tell me, are the king and queen of that church, or no?” f305 “Well,” said I, “now I perceive you go about to be both mine accuser and also my judge, contrary to all right. I confess Christ hath a church upon earth, which is built upon the apostles and prophets, Christ being the head thereof. And as touching the king and queen, I answer, I have nothing to do with any man’s faith but mine own; neither came I hither to judge, for I judge not myself, but the Lord must judge me.”

Then said he, “Is there no part of that church here in England?” Plaise: — “Well, I perceive you would fain have something to lay to my charge: I will tell you where. Christ saith, ‘Where two or three be gathered together in his name, there is he in the midst among them.’” Then the archdeacon stood up with his mocks, to put me out of comfort; and said to the people, that I had no wit, but that I thought all they were deceived so long time, and that half a dozen of us should have the truth in a corner, and that all they should be deceived; with such like taunts and mocks, but would not suffer me to speak one word.

Then he read the article of the sacrament, and said, I did deny the real presence to be in the sacrament after it was once consecrated; and that I said, Christ’s body was in heaven, and no where else; and that the bread was nothing but a sign, token, or remembrance.

Then I said, “You have to show where and what my words were.”

And hereof we talked a great while.

At the last the bishop was so angry, that he charged me in the king’s, queen’s, and cardinal’s name, before the mayor and his brethren, taking them to witness, if I did not say yea or nay, he would condemn me.

Then I said, “Seeing you have nothing to accuse me of, wherefore should I so answer?”

Then the archdeacon said, I was guilty; and said I was like a thief at the bar, which would not confess his fault, because his accusers were not present; with a great many words, and would not let me open my mouth against him.

Then I saw whereabout they went, granting to answer them by the word, or else I think they would have condemned me for holding of my peace; and this was my beginning: “I believe that Christ took bread, and when he had given thanks he brake it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, ‘Take, eat, this is my body, which is given for you; this do in remembrance of me.’” Archdeacon: — “Dost thou believe that Christ meant even as he said?”

I said, “Christ was no dissembler, but he spake the very truth.” Archdeacon: - “Thou hast very well said, we will make the best of thy words.” Then he praised me with many words, going about to prove it his body real and substantial, and said, “Christ called himself bread. And this to prove: when Christ said, ‘This is my body,’ the bread was his body indeed, said he, real and substantial; not so long and so big as it hung on the cross, as the Capernaites did think; but we eat it, as man’s weak nature can eat Christ.

Therefore when he had said, ‘This is my body,’ the bread was his body in very deed.”

Then I asked him, what Christ meant by these words, “which is given for you.”

He said, “Christ spake that by the bread also; but it was not written in Matthew, but Luke had those words.”

Then I asked him, If Christ’s body were made of bread, whether that was given for our redemption, or whether the bread was crucified for us, or not? Then he said, “No, by St. Mary, I say not so.” Plaise: — “You have said the truth indeed, and even as I believe.”

Then he stood up with a great many of words, and said, that I did think it but bare bread still, as other bread is: but he was sure Christ called it his body, and then it was his body indeed; for he would believe Christ. f307 When he had spoken his pleasure by me, thinking to have condemned me by their law, I said he had not judged right of me, for I had not so spoken, but did believe the words of Christ as well as he, and as much as he could prove by the word.

Then he would hear what I did say it was. I said, I did believe it was that he gave them.

Then he asked me, what was that he gave them. I said, that which he brake. Then he asked me, what was that he brake. I said, that he took. Archdeacon: — “What was it that he did take?”

I said, the text saith he took bread. Archdeacon: — “Well then, thou sayest it was but bread that his disciples did eat, by thy reason.” Plaise: — “Thus much, I say: Look, what he gave them, they did eat in deed.” Archdeacon: — “Why, then was not that his body that they did eat?” Plaise: — “It was that which he brake.” “Well,” said he, “I perceive thy meaning well enough; for thou dost think it is but bread still, and that he was not able to make it his body.” Plaise: — That is your exposition upon my mind.”

Then said he, “What didst thou receive, when thou didst receive last?”

I said, “I do believe that I did eat Christ’s flesh, and drink his blood: for he saith, ‘My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.’” Then he said, I had well answered, thinking to have had some advantage at my hand; and prayed me to tell him, how I did eat his flesh and drink his blood. Then I said, “I must answer you by the word which Christ saith, ‘He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him.’” Then he faced out the matter with sophistry, and said I did eat Christ, as that church was in his eye; with many such mocks, but would not let me answer one word. Then the commissary did ask me, if I did not remember St. Paul, which did rebuke the Corinthians for their evil behavior, and because they made no difference of the Lord’s body, and brought in to prove his matter, how he called himself bread in John 6. “So Paul saith, ‘So oft as ye eat of this bread [meaning Christ’s body] unworthily, ye eat and drink your own damnation, because ye make no difference of the Lord’s body.’ For thus saith Christ, ‘The bread that I will give you is my flesh.’ Now it is no bread, but it is his flesh.” And thus he alleged every scripture false, to make up the matter.

Then I said, I did believe the words of St. Paul very well, even as he had spoken them: for thus he saith, “He that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh his own damnation, because he maketh no difference of the Lord’s body.” Commissary: — “What is the cause that he eateth his own damnation?”

I said, “St. Paul declareth it plainly with these words, ‘If ye had judged yourselves, ye should not have been judged of the Lord.’” Then the archdeacon said, he marveled why I would not say that he called the bread his body, seeing Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, with many others, said he, called it his body. f308 I said,” You have condemned them as heretics, and you would have me say with them, because you would kill me.”

Then he said, “In that they said it was his body, they did say the truth.” I asked, wherefore they were killed, seeing they said the truth.

Then said the bishop, that he had all their answers, and that they did not believe as they said. For they said, Christ called it his body, but it was not his natural body; “but thou shalt answer me by and by, whether it be his body or not, or else I will anger thee.”

Then I said I had answered him by the word, already, and did believe it also; therefore if he did condemn me for that, my life was not dear unto me, and I was sure he should not scape unpunished; for God will be revenged upon such murderers.

Then the archdeacon entreated me to be ruled by him, and take mercy while it was offered; for if I were condemned, I must needs be burned. Yet he would not say but my soul might be saved; — with many more words. And desired me that I would believe him, for he would speak the truth: beginning how Christ: fed five thousand people with four loaves, and how he turned the water into wine; even so Christ took bread and blest it, and when he had done, he brake it; and said, “This is my body;” and then he commanded them to eat it, and therefore it must needs be his body.

Then I desired him to speak the text right, or else I would not believe him.

Then he stood tap, and put off his cap, and thanked me for teaching of him; and said, I was a stubborn fellow, and took scorn to be taught.

I said, I ought to hold him accursed, if he taught doctrine contrary to Christ and his apostles.

Then he asked me, whether I did believe that Christ did give that he took, or not? I said, “I do believe as much as can be proved by the Scripture, and more I will not believe.”

Then he began with Moses’s rod, how God commanded him to lay it down, and it was turned into a serpent. Seeing that this was by Moses, being but a man, how much more Christ, being both God and man, took one thing, and gave to his disciples another?

I said, his comparison was nothing like, for Moses’s rod when it was laid down, he saw that it was turned into a very serpent indeed; but in this sacrament no man can see either quality or yet quantity to be changed.

Then said the bishop, that mine opinion and faith was like unto the Capernaites. I said, theirs was more like their opinion, than mine.

The archdeacon asked me, whether Christ took one thing, and gave another? I said, “Look, what he brake he gave unto them, and bade them eat; and other answer I will make none, contrary to the word.”

Then he said, he marveled why I would not believe them, seeing this learning had continued this fifteen hundred years; neither yet did say, as others had before, how Christ did call it his body.

Then I said, “When Cranmer, which was here bishop, was in authority, he said, that he did hold the truth, and commanded us to believe him; and he hath given his life for his opinion; and would you have me to believe you, because you say that you hold the truth? And that which makes me believe chiefly, is the Scripture, which I am sure is the truth indeed.”

The bishop said, he had spoken the truth, and that I would not believe. I said, if he did not now speak the truth, I was sure he had spoken the truth; for he had reached before, doctrine clean contrary unto this.

Then were the rest of my articles read, which I answered; and in every article he had up this breaden god. And they sent for a candle-light, and I thought they would, have. Condemned me; but God would not suffer their cruel hearts to have their pleasure that time, blessed be his name for evermore, Amen.

Then the archdeacon was angry, and began to chide with me, because I would not desire a day of the bishop; and said I was a naughty stubborn fellow; and said, It had been my duty to have desired him to have been good to me, that I might have a day. Then I stud, I have spoken the truth; and therefore I would ask him no day, except he would give me a day of his own mind.”

Then said the commissary, “Dost thou not think that thou mayest be deceived, seeing he may be deceived that hath gone to study all the days of his life?” I said, “Yea, I might be deceived, in that I was a man; but I was sure God’s word could not be deceived.”

Then he prayed me to be content, and confessed that I might learn, and said, They would he glad to teach me. And I said, I would be as glad to learn as any man. — And thus they rose up and went away, saying nothing.

What became of this Matthew Plaise after, whether he died in prison, or was executed, or delivered, I have as yet no certain knowledge.

THE HISTORY OF TEN TRUE GODLY DISCIPLES AND MARTYRS OF CHRIST, BURNT TOGETHER IN ONE FIRE AT LEWES, ANNO 1557, JUNE 22.

In the town of Lewes were ten faithful servants of God put in one fire, the 22d day of June, whose names follow: Richard Woodman, George Stevens, W. Mainrd, Alexander Hosman, his servant; Thomasin a Wood, Mainard’s maid; Margery Moris; James Moris, her son; Dennis Burgis, Ashdon’s wife, Grove’s wife.

Of the which number Richard Woodman was the first; concerning whose apprehension, first by his enemies, and of his deliverance out of bishop Bonner’s hands; then of his second taking again by the procurement of his father, brother, kinsfolks, and friends; also of his sundry examinations and courageous answers before the bishops; and lastly of his condemnation, and of his letters sent to his faithful friends, here followeth to be declared by his own words and relation reported. Which Richard Woodman, by his occupation was an iron-maker dwelling in the parish of Warbleton, in the county of Sussex, and diocese of Chichester, of the age of thirty years and somewhat, more.

The occasion of his first apprehension was this: There was one Fairebanke, who sometimes had been a married priest, and served the cure of Warbleton, where he had often persuaded the people not to, credit any’ other doctrine but that which he then preached, taught, and set forth, in king Edward’s days: and afterward, in the beginning of queen Mary’s reign, the said Fairebanke, turning head to tail, preached clean contrary to that which he had before taught.

Whereupon Richard Woodman, hearing him in the church of Warbleton so to preach contrary to himself, admonished him of his inconstancy, how before time he had taught them one thing, and now another, and desired him to teach them the truth. For the which words he was apprehended, and brought before master John Ashbornham, master Tonston, and master Culpepper, and master Roberts, justices of peace in the county of Sussex, and by them committed to’ the King’s Bench, where he continued from June, the space almost of a year and half; and from thence was transferred by Dr. Story into Bonner’s coalhouse, where he remained the space of a month before he came to examination.

At length, the same day when master Philpot was burned, which, was the 18th of December, he with four other prisoners was delivered and set at liberty by Bonner himself. Notwithstanding, shortly after he was sought for again, and at last found out and taken by means of his father, brother, and certain other his acquainted friends, and so was sent up again to London to bishop Bonner, where he remained in the coalhouse eight weeks. He was there six times examined, and twenty-six times before, so that his examinations were in all thirty-two, from his first apprehension to his condemnation. Touching the whole discourse whereof, forsomuch as the matter is something strange, and will peradventure scarce find credit upon my narration, with them which deny all things that like them not to believe, ye shall hear himself speak and testify both of the manner of his troubles, and also his own examinations by himself recorded, in order as followeth; *wherein may appear, as well the great grace and wisdom of God in that man.. as also the glorious vanity of his adversaries, but especially the fury of Dr. Story.* A TRUE CERTIFICATE WRITTEN BY RICHARD WOODMAN, Of his taking, and how he was brought to the Sheriffs the 15th of March, 1556, and how long he was in prison, and how he was there used, till he was brought before the Bishop of Chichester at Black-friars in London, with the order of his Examinations following after the same.

Gentle reader, here you shall perceive how the Scriptures be partly fulfilled on me, being one of the least of his poor lambs. First, you shall understand, that since I was delivered out of the bishop of London’s hands, which was in the year of our Lord 1555, and the same day that master Philpot was burned, which was the 18th of December, I lay in his coalhouse eight weeks lacking but one day: and, before that, I was a year and a half almost in the King’s Bench after my first apprehension, for reproving a preacher in the pulpit, in the parish of Warbleton, where I dwelt. Wherefore I was at two sessions before I was sent to prison, and carried to two more sessions while I was in prison, twice before the bishop of Chichester, and five times before the commissioners; and then sent to London’s coalhouse, and many times called before him, as it appeareth by my examinations which I have wrote, the which examinations the bishop of Chichester now hath, for they were found in my house when I was taken; wherein is contained all the talk which I had before them aforenamed. Also there be in London that had copies of the same of me, when I was in the coalhouse.

And it pleased God to deliver me with four more out of the butchers’ hands, requiring nothing else of us but that we should be honest men, and members of the true catholic church that was built upon the prophets and apostles, Christ being the head of the true church, the which all we affirmed that we were members of the true church, and purposed by God’s help therein to die. And hereupon we were delivered; but he willed us many times to speak good of him. And no doubt he was worthy to be praised, because he had been so faithful an aid in his master the devil’s business; for he had burnt good master Philpot the same morning, in whose blood his heart was so drunken (as I supposed), that he could not tell what he did, as it appeared to us both before and after. For but two days before, he promised us that we should be condemned that same day that we were delivered; yea, and the morrow after that he had delivered us, he sought for some of us again, yea and that earnestly.

He waxed dry after his great drunkenness, wherefore he is like to have blood to drink in hell as he is worthy, if he repent it not with speed. The Lord turn all their hearts, if it be his will!

This have I written, chiefly to certify all people how we were delivered, because many carnal gospellers and papists have said, that it was prescribed that we should be so delivered, because they think that God is subject to man, and not man to God; for if they did, they would not blaspheme him as they do, or if they thought they should give account for it. Have not many of them read how God delivered Israel out of Egypt? Daniel out of the lion’s den? Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego, out of the burning oven? with divers other such like examples; yea, God is the same God that he was then. He is no older, nor less in power, as some count him in wondering at his works. Now to the matter.

After I was delivered, the papists said that I had consented to them, whereof they made themselves glad; the which was the least part of my thought (I praise God therefore), as they well perceived and knew the contrary within a while. For I went from parish to parish, and talked with them, to the number of thirteen or fourteen, and that of the chiefest in all the country; and I angered them so, that they with the commissioners complained on me to my lord chamberlain that was then to the queen, sir John Gage, showing him that I baptized children, and married folks, with many such lies, to bring me into their hands again. Then the commissioners sent out certain citations to bring me to the court. My lord chamberlain had directed out four or five warrants for me, that if I had come there, I should have been attached and sent to prison straightway; which was not God’s will; for I had warning of their laying await for me, and came not there, but sent my deputy, and he brought me word that the bailiffs: waited for me there; but they missed of their prey for that time, where upon they were displeased.

Then, within three days after, my lord sent three of his men to take me, whose names were Deane, Jeffrey, and Frances. I, being at plough with my folks, right in the way as they were coming to my house, least mistrusting them of all other, came to them and spake to them, asking them how they did. And they said, they arrested me in the king and queen’s name, and that I must go with them to their master the lord chamberlain; which words made my flesh to tremble and quake, because of that sudden. But I answered them, that I would go with them. Yet I desired them, that they would go to my house with me, that I might break my fast, and put on some other gear; and they said, I should. Then I remembered myself, saying in my heart, “Why am I thus afraid? they can lay no evil to my charge. If’ they kill me for well doing, I may think myself happy.” I remembered how I was contented gladly before to die in that quarrel, and so had continued ever since; and should I now fear to die? God forbid that I should; for then were all my labor in vain.

So by and by I was persuaded, I praise God; considering it was but the fraility of my flesh, which was loth to forego my wife and children, and goods: for I saw nothing but present death before mine eyes. And as soon as I was persuaded in my mind to die, I had regard of nothing in this world, but was as merry and glad and joyful, I praise God, as ever I was. This battle lasted not a quarter of an hour; but it was sharper than death itself for the time, I dare say.

So when I had my breakfast, I desired them to show me their warrant, thinking thereby I should have seen wherefore I was arrested, to the intent I might the better answer for myself, when I came before their master. And one of them answered, they had not their warrant there; which words made me astonied, and it was put in my mind by God, that I need not go with them, unless they had their warrant. Then said I to them, “That is marvel, that you will come to take a man without a warrant. It seemeth to me, that you come of your own mind to get thank of your master; for indeed I heard say,” said I, “that there were four or five warrants out for me, but they were called in again, because I had certified my lord and the commissary, by a letter that I had sent to the commissary’s court, that I was not faulty in that they laid to my charge, which was for baptizing of children, and marrying of folks; the which I never did, for I was never minister appointed to do any such thing: wherefore set your hearts at rest, I will not go with you,” said I, “unless you will carry me by force; and if you will, do so, at your own adventures.” And so I rose from the board, and stepped into my chamber, meaning to go from them if I could possibly, seeing God had made the way so open for me. I meant to play Peter’s part with them, but God would not it should be so, but sent a fear amongst them, that as soon as I was gone into my chamber, ere ever I could come out again, they were gone out of my house.

When I saw that, I knew it was God’s doing, to set me at liberty once again. Yet I was compelled to speak to them, and said, “If you have a warrant, I desire you for God’s sake to show it me, and I will go with you with all my heart: if not, I desire you to depart in God’s peace and the king’s: for surely I will not go with you without the order of the law; for I have been too simple in such things already. For before I was sent to prison first, I went to the justices, to two sessions, without any warrant or commandment, but had word by one of their men, and I went justly to them; and they sent me to prison, and kept me there almost a year and three quarters, without all right or equity, as it is openly known, not hearing my cause gently debated. And it seemeth strange to me, that I should be thus evil handled; and therefore I will go to none of them all henceforth, without the extremity of the law.”

Then one of them answered me, and said, “We have not the warrant here, . but it is at home at my house; the worst is, you can but make us fetch it.” Then I said, “Fetch it, if you will; but if you come in my house before )’on have it, at your own adventure be it.” So I shut my door, and went my way out at the other door. So they got help to watch my house, whilst one of them fetched the constable and many more, thinking to have had me in my house, and to have taken me in any house, and carried me away with a license; but I was gone before, as God would have it.

Notwithstanding they sought every corner of my house, but could not prevail. I mistrusted they would search it - again that night, and kept me abroad; and indeed there came seven of his men and the constable, and searched my house. And when they saw that they could not meet with me, they were ready to rend their coats, that I had escaped them so, knowing they should have such a check of their master. When I heard that they had sought so for me again, I, perceiving that they were greedy of their prey, came home, and my wife told me all things.

Then I supposed that they would lay all the country for me, and the seacoast, because I should not go over, and then I thought that they would not mistrust that I would dare be nigh home. So I told my wife, that I would make my lodging in a wood not past a flightshot from my house; as I did indeed, even under a tree, and there had my Bible, my pen, and mine ink, and other necessaries, and there continued six or seven weeks, my wife bringing me meat daily as I had need. Yea, I thought myself blessed of God, that I was counted worthy to lie in the woods for the name of Christ. Then there came word into the country, that I was seen and spoken to in Flanders; whereupon they left laying in wait for me: for they had laid all the country for me, and the sea-coast from Portsmouth to Dover, even as God put in my mind they would.

So when all was hushed, I went abroad among our friends and brethren; and at length I went beyond the sea both into Flanders and in France: but I thought every day seven years or ever I were at home again. So I came home again as soon as it was possible. I was there but three weeks; but as soon as I was come home, and it was once known among Baal’s priests, they could not abide it, but procured out warrants against me, causing my house to be searched sometimes twice in a week.

This continued from St. James’s tide to the first Sunday in Lent.

Otherwhile I went privily, otherwhile openly, otherwhile I went from home a fortnight or three weeks, otherwhile I was at home a month or five weeks together, living there most commonly and openly, doing such works as I had to do; and yet all mine enemies could lay no hands on me, till the hour was full come: and then, by the voice of the country, and by manifest proofs, mine own brother, as concerning the flesh, delivered me into their hands, by that he knew that I was at home. For my father and he had as much of my goods in their hands, as I might have fifty-six pounds for, by the year, clear, and thereunto prayed. It was a lordship and an honor, and half an honor, that I had delivered into their hands to pay my debts, and the rest to remain to my wife and children. But they had reported that it would not pay my debts, which grieved me sore; for it was two hundred pounds better than the debts came to: which caused me to speak to some of my friends, that they would speak to them to come to some reckoning with me, and to take all such money again of me as they were charged with, and to deliver me such writings and writs as they had of mine again, or to whom I would appoint them.

So it was agreed betwixt my father and me, that I should have it again, and the day was appointed that the reckoning should be made and sent to me that same day that I was taken; my brother supposing that I should have put him out of most of all his occupying, that he was in; for it was all mine, in a manner, that he occupied, as all the country can, and do well know. Whereon (as it is reported) he told one Cardillar, my next neighbor, and he told some of master Gage’s men, or to master Gage himself. And so he sent to his brother, and his brother sent twelve of his men (he being sheriff) in the night before I was taken, and lay in the bushes not far from any house, till about nine of the clock, even the hour that was appointed amongst themselves; for about the same time they thought to have had me within my house.

They had taken a man of mine, and two of my children that were abroad in the land, and kept them with them till their hour was appointed to come in; and then a little girl, one of my children, saw them come together, and came running in, and cried, “Mother, mother, yonder cometh twenty men!” I, sitting in my bed, and making of shoe-thongs, heard the words, and suspecting straightway that I was betrayed, I stirred out of my bed, and whipt on my hose, thinking to have gone out of the doors or ever they had been come. My wife, being amazed at the child’s words, looked out at the door, and they were hard by. Then she clapped to the door, and barred it fast, even as I came out of my chamber into the hall, and so barred the other: so the house was beset round straightway, and they bade open the doors, or else they would break them in pieces. Then I had no shift, but either I must show myself openly, or make some other remedy.

So there was a place in my house that was never found, which was at the least, I dare say twenty times, and sometimes almost of twenty men, searched at once, both by night and day; into which place I went. And as soon as I was in, my wife opened the door, whereby incontinent they came and asked for me; and she said I was not at home. Then they asked her wherefore she shut the door, if I were not at home. She said because she had been made afraid divers times with such as came to search us; and therefore she shut the door. “For it is reported,” saith she, “that whosoever can take my husband, shall hang him or burn him straightway; and therefore I doubt they will serve me or my children, so; for I think they may do so unto us, as well as to lure, she sad. “Well,” said they, “we know he is in the house, and we must search it, for we be the sheriff’s men; let us have a candle. It is told us, there be many secret places in your house.” So she lighted a candle, and they sought up and down in every corner that they could find, and had given over; and many of them were gone out of my house into the church-yard, and were talking with my father, and with some that he had brought with him.

Now when they could not find me, one of them went to him that gave them word that I was at home, and said, “We cannot find him.” Then he asked them whether they had sought over a window that was in the hall (as it was known afterward); for that same place I had told him of myself. For many times when I came home, I would send for him to bear me company; yet, as it chanced, I had not told him the way into it. Then they began to search anew. One looked up over the window, and spied a little loft, with three or four chests, and the way went in betwixt two of the chests, but there could no man perceive it. Then he asked my wife which was the way into it. “Here is a place that we have not sought yet.”

When she thought they would see it by one means or other, she said the way was into it out of a chamber they were in even now.

So she sent them up, and cried, “Away, away.” Then I knew there was no remedy, but made the best shift for myself that I could.

The place was boarded over, and fast nailed, and if I had come out that way that I went in, I must needs come amongst them all in the hall. Then I had no shift, but set my shoulders to the boards that were nailed to the rafters to keep out the rain, and brake them in pieces, which made a great noise; and they that were in the other chamber, seeking for the way into it, heard the noise, and looked out of a window, and spied me, and made an outcry. But yet I got out, and leaped down, having no shoes on. So I took down a lane that was full of sharp cinders, and they came running after, with a great cry, with their swords drawn, crying, “Strike him, strike him!” which words made me look back, and there was never a one nigh me by a hundred foot; and that was but one, for all the rest were a great way behind. And I turned about hastily to go my way, and stepped upon a sharp cinder, with one foot; and saving of it, I stepped into a great miry hole, and fell down withal; and ere ever I could arise and get away, he was come in with me. His name is Parker the Wild, as he is counted in all Sussex. But if I had had on my shoes, they had been like to have gone away errandless, if there had been five hundred more, if I had caught the plain ground once, to the which I had not a stone’s cast. But it was not God’s will; for if it had, I should have escaped from them all, if there had been ten thousand of them.

Then they took me and led me home again to put on my shoes, and such gear as I had need of. Then said John Fauconer, “Now your master hath deceived you. You said you were an angel; and if you had been an angel, why did you not fly away from us?” Then said I, “What be they that ever heard me say that I was an angel? It is not the first lie by a thousand that they have made of me. Angels were never begotten of men, nor born of women; but if they had said, they had heard me say, that I do trust I am a saint, they had not said amiss.” “What, do you think to be a saint?” “Yea that I do, and am already in God’s sight, I trust in God; for he that is not a saint in God’s sight already, is a devil. Therefore he that thinketh scorn to be a saint, let him be a devil.” And with that word they had brought me to mine own door; where met with me my father, and willed me to remember myself. To whom I answered, “I praise God, I am well remembered whereabout I go. This way was appointed of God for me to be delivered into the hands of mine enemies, but woe unto him by whom I am betrayed: it had been good for that man, that he had never been born, if he repent not with speed. The Scriptures are now fulfilled on me; ‘for the father shall be against the son, and the brother shall deliver the brother to death,’ as it is this day come to pass.” Then said one, “He doth accuse his father; a good child indeed!” “I accuse him not, but say my mind: for there was no man knew me at home, but my father, my brother, and one more, the which I dare say would not hurt me for all the goods in this town.”

There was one George Beching, that married one of my sisters, and he thought that I had meant him, that he had betrayed me; and he said, “Brother, I would you should not think that I was the cause of your taking.” To whom I answered, that I meant him not; I meant one that was nearer of my blood than he was. Then said one of Lewes, that had been a gospeller, and stood from them when I was brought to a sessions to Lewes, and he said, “I thought you would have been an honest man when you were at Lewes, and I offered Hussey the sheriff to be bound for you, that you should go home to your wife, and come to him again.” Then I remembered what he was, and said, “Be you the pewterer?” And he said, “Yea.”

Then said I, “It is happened to you according to the true proverb, as saith St. Peter, ‘The dog is turned to his vomit again, and the sow that is washed, to wallow in the mire,’ and the end of all such will be worse than the beginning.” Then his mouth was stopped, so that he had nothing to say.

All this while I stood at my door without; for they would not let me go in. So I put on my shoes and my clothes. Then they put on a harness about my arms, made of a dog’s slip, which rejoiced my heart, that I was counted worthy to be bound for the name of God.

So I took my leave of my wife and children, my father, and other of my friends, never thinking to see them more in this world. For it was so thought of all the country, that I should not live six days after my taking; for they had so reported. But yet I knew it was not as they would, unless God would grant it. I know what God can do; but what he will do I know not: but I am sure he will work all things for the best, for them that love and fear him. So we drank and went our way, and came to Firle about three of the clock.

And thus much touching the causes and effect of the troubles of Richard Woodman. Now let us see his examinations, which follow in this order.

THE FIRST EXAMINATION OF RICHARD WOODMAN, BEFORE DR.

CHRISTOPHER-SON BISHOP OF CHICHESTER, DR. STORY, DR.

COOKE, AND OTHERS; THE 14TH DAY OF APRIL, 1557.

First, you shall understand, that I was sent from the sheriffs to London, the 12th day of April, in the year of our Lord 1557; and afterward, upon the 14th day of the same month, I was brought before the bishop of Chichester, and Dr. Story, and Dr. Cooke. So the sheriff’s men delivered my warrant and me to the bishop. Then the bishop asked me what my name was.” “My name,” quoth I, “is Richard Woodman.” Chichester: — “I am sorry for you, and so are all the worshipful men of your country; for it hath been reported to me, that you have been a man of good estimation in all the country, amongst the poor and rich, till now of late. Wherefore look well upon yourself, your wife and children, your father, and other of your friends, and be ruled. Think not yourself wiser than all the realm. Be informed, and you shall have their favors all, as much as ever you had.” Woodman: — “You have charged me with many things wherein I have never offended; and, if you will give me leave, I will show you.” Chichester: — “Yes, I pray you, say your mind.” Woodman: — “If it please you, you have charged me as though I made myself wiser than all the realm: God doth know, I stand to learn of every man that will or can teach me the truth. And whereas you say, I have been well esteemed both of the poor and rich, God doth know, I know not that I have given any just offense, either to rich or poor. And as for my wife and children, God doth know how I love them in him, and my life also. My life, my wife, and my children, are all in God’s hands; and I have them all as I had them not, I trust, according to St.

Paul’s words. But if I had ten thousand pounds of gold, I had rather forego it all, than them, if I might be in choice, and not displease God.” Chichester: — “The sheriff took pains to come to me of love, he said,, which,, he bare to you, as to himself; and said you were desirous to speak with me. Woodman: — “I thought it meet to appeal to mine ordinary; for they go about to shed my blood unrighteously: for they have laid many unjust things to my charge. Wherefore I thought it meet to appeal to you, that if you can find any fault in me meet to be reformed by God’s word, I stand to be reformed; and likewise if my blood shall be shed unrighteously, that it might be required at your hands, because you have taken upon you to be the physician of our country.” Story: — “Is not this a perverse fellow, to lay to your charge, that his blood shall be required at your hands? Thinkest thou that thou shalt be put to death unjustly, that thy blood should be required?

No, if he should condemn a hundred such heretics as thou art. I helped to rid a good sort of you; and I promise thee, I will help to rid thee too, the best that I can.”

Then I would have answered him, but the bishop desired us both to give him place. Chichester: — “Well, neighbor Woodman; I call you neighbor, because ye be one of my diocese; and you are sent to me, that I should give you spiritual counsel: for I am your spiritual pastor. Therefore hear what I shall say to you.” Woodman: — “First, I desire you to hear me a few words. You have said, you will give me spiritual counsel. Be you sure, that you have the Spirit of God?” Chichester: — “No, I am not sure of that.” Woodman: — “No! be you not sure of that?” Chichester: — “No, by St. Mary, I dare not be so bold to say so; I doubt of that.” Woodman: — “Then you be like the waves of the sea, as saith St.

James, that be tossed about with the wind, and be unstable in all your ways, and can look for no good thing at the Lord’s hand: yea, ye are neither hot nor cold, and therefore God will spew you out of his mouth, as saith St. John.”

Then they were in a great fury, especially Dr. Story, saying, “What a perverse fellow is this! He hath the devil within him, and is mad.

He is worse than the devil. Now I perceive that it is true that is reported by thee, and it is the pride of all such heretics to boast themselves.” Chichester: — “Yea surely, he is sent to me to learn, and taketh upon him to teach me.”

I seeing their blindness and blasphemy, it made my heart melt, and mine eyes gush out with tears, saying, “The Jews said to Christ, he had the devil, and was mad; as you have said here by me. But I know the servant is not above his Master. And God forbid that I should learn of him, that confesseth that he hath not the Spirit of God.” f314 Chichester: — “Why, do you think that you have the Spirit of God?” Woodman: — “I believe verily that I have the Spirit of God.” Chichester: — “You boast more than ever Paul did, or any of the apostles, the which is great presumption.” Woodman: — “I boast not in myself, but in the gift of God, as Paul did; for he said, he believed verily that he had the Spirit of God, (making thereof no doubts), in 1 Corinthians 7.” Chichester: — “It is not so; you belie the text.” Woodman: - “If it be not so, let me be burned tomorrow.” Story: — “Thou shalt not be burned to-morrow; but thou shalt be burned within these six days, I promise thee.” Chichester: — “If it be so, it is wrong translated, as it is in a thousand places more.”

Then one looked in a Latin Testament, and another in a Greek Testament, and they said, it was in them both, that Paul supposed a176 that he had the Spirit of God, but he was not sure. Chichester: — “Even so I hope and suppose that I have the Spirit of God, but I am not sure.” Woodman: — “If that place be wrong translated, and so many places of the Bible as you say, then I may say with Christ, It cannot be avoided, but offences must be given; but woe unto them by whom they come. I may say, Woe unto false translators: for cursed are they that add or take away. But take you heed that you belie not the translators.

I believe they had the fear of God more before their eyes than you report of them. And yet if that place be wrong translated, I can prove by places enough, that Paul had the Spirit of God; as I myself, and all God’s elect have.” Chichester: — “How prove you that?” Woodman: — “‘No man can believe that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.’(1 Corinthians 7.) I do believe that Jesus Christ is my Redeemer; and that I shall be saved from all my sins by his death and bloodshedding, as Paul and all the apostles did, and as all faithful people ought to do; which no man can do without the Spirit of God.

And as there is no damnation to them that are in Christ Jesus; so is there no salvation to them that are not in Christ Jesus. ‘For he that hath not the Spirit of Christ, is none of his,’(Romans 8.) but is a castaway, as he saith in the same text. And again, ‘We have not received the spirit of bondage, to fear any more, but we have received the spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The same Spirit certifieth our spirits, that we are the sons of God.’(Romans 8.) Here are proofs enough, that Paul was Sure that he had the Spirit of God.

Also St. John saith, ‘He that believeth not that Christ is come in the flesh, is an antichrist, and denieth both the Father and the Son:’ f315 which is sin against the Holy Ghost, which shall never be forgiven in this world, nor in the world to come. Beside all this, ‘He that believeth in God, dwelleth in God, and God in him.’(1 John 4.) So is it impossible to believe in God, unless God dwell in us. O good God!

What more injury can be done unto thee, than to mistrust that we have received thy Holy Spirit by thy gift? Thus may all men see their blindness, and whose servants they be, as they do declare themselves, both by their words and deeds.” Story: — “O, my lord, what a heretic is this same! Why hear you him Send him to prison, to his fellows in the Marshalsea, and they shall be despatched within, these twelve days.

When I heard him say so, I rejoiced greatly in my heart, desiring God, if it were his will, to keep him in that mind. For I looked surely to have gone to the bishop of London’s coalhouse, or Lollards’ tower, yea, I thought myself happy, if I might have gone to Lollards’ tower: but it pleased God to put in the hearts of them to send me to the Marshalsea amongst our brethren, and my old prison-fellows: so mercifully hath God dealt with me, in easing of my burden that I looked for. So when they perceived that I feared not imprisonment, but rather rejoiced, as they well perceived, then said the bishop, “Methinks he is not afraid of the prison.” Woodman: — “No, I praise the living God.” Story: — “This is a heretic indeed! He hath the right terms of all heretics; ‘the living God:’ I pray you be there dead gods, that you say the living God?” f316 Woodman: — “Be you angry with me, because I speak the words which are written in the Bible?” a177 Story: — “Bible-babble, bible-babble! What speakest thou of the Bible? There is no such word written in all the Bible.” Woodman: — “Then I am much to blame, if it be not so written: ‘Behold, for the offences that you have done, you shall be carried away captive by Nebuchadnezzar to Babylon, and there ye shall be seven generations. And when you be there, you shall see gods of gold, of silver, of wood, and of stone, borne before you and behind you upon men’s shoulders, to cast out a fear among the heathen. When you shall see all these abominations, then say you in your heart, It is the living God, that ought to be worshipped.’ Here I prove my saying true, both that there is a living God, and that there he dead gods. Also David saith in the Psalms, ‘My soul hath a desire and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord: my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God;’ f317 with divers other places that I could recite. Wherefore I marvel that you rebuke me for speaking the truth.” Chichester: — “I do not deny but it is written, and is the truth, and I know it as well as you; but such is the speech of all heretics.” Story: — “My lord, I will tell you how you shall know a heretic by his words, because I have been more used to them than you have been; that is, they will say; ‘the Lord,’ and ‘we praise God,’ and ‘the living God:’ by these words you shall know a heretic.” Woodman: — “All these words are written for our learning, and we are commanded of the prophets to use them daily, as this: ‘the Lord’s name be praised from the rising up of the sun, unto the going down of the same.’ Also, ‘As many as fear the Lord, say always, The Lord be praised.’” Story: — “My lord, send him to prison; you shall do no good with him. I will go to church, and leave you here. This is an old heretic.

Wast thou never before me ere now?” Woodman: — “Yes, forsooth, that I have.” Story: — “Yea, I trow so; and I sent thee to the bishop of London, and he released thee; and thou promisedst him to be an honest man, and that thou wouldst be of the true catholic church; which thou hast not fulfilled.” Woodman: — “I promised him nothing but I have fulfilled it. No man shall be able to prove the contrary.” Story: — “Well, it will be tried well enough. My lord, I will take my leave, I fear me you shall do this man no good.” Chichester: — “I would not have you to use such speeches as you do, as ‘the Lord be praised,’ and ‘the living God,’ with such like words. Can you not say as well, ‘our Lord,’ or ‘our God,’ as otherwise?” Woodman: — “I marvel why you should reprove me there-for, seeing they be the words of God. I do not refuse to say ‘our God,’ or ‘our Lord,’ when I talk of the scripture where it is written. If I should, it must follow, that I denied the words of God, and must needs be a heretic; but I do not. Wherefore, I marvel what you mean to find fault therein. It seemeth to me, that you mistrust that; I believe not as you do.” Chichester: — “Yea, that is my meaning indeed.” Woodman: — “I believe in the living God: if you do not so, then our beliefs be not alike indeed. But if it please you to examine me upon any particular matter, now, or at any other time, I will make you answer thereto, by God’s help.” Chichester: — “Though you believe in God, I can prove you believe not as you ought to do, as I can show you by your hand-writing. You have denied the catholic church; wherefore he that erreth from the church, it cannot be said that his faith is good. Wherefore be ruled by the church, from the which ye have erred. I can show you perilous things of your writing, if it should be known; but ye shall not be hurt for me, if you will come to any good order. But I promise you I would not for three thousand pounds some had so much against me, as I can show against you of your own hand-writing, which you cannot deny.” Woodman: — “I will not deny my hand, by God’s help; for I know well, I have written nothing at any time but the truth. There may be things written against me, reporting it to be mine, and yet be not; but my hand cannot well be counterfeited’ there be enough that know my hand.” Chichester: — “Do you know it yourself, if you see it?” Woodman: — “Yea, that I do.”

Then he arose and fetched a great bundle of writings, and opened them, and bade me come see. I looked on them, and it was my hand indeed. Chichester: — “How say you? Is it not your own writing?” Woodman: — “Yes, surely it is.” Chichester: — “How say you to this, is not this your hand also?”

I looked, and it was. And I said, “Yes, verily is it.” Chichester: — “Well, you know what it meaneth, I dare say.” Woodman: — “Yea, I know it very well. Here is a great deal, the which I had thought had been in my house, but I thank God that it is here; for in this you shall try whether it be true or not. For in this is contained all the talk that was betwixt the commissioners and me, when I was before them five times, and also before the bishop of London divers times: and I am sure, neither you nor they shall find any words false therein written. And I think the sheriff’s men, when they searched my house for me, when I was taken, found this, and carried it with them: but I never knew it before now. But I am not sorry for it, but am rather glad: for herein you may see all the wrong that I have received at their hands; and how long I was in prison; and how I was tossed up and down; and how I was delivered at length; and by this you may try whether it be so or not. I dare say they that found it, and they that brought it to you, had thought it would have turned me to displeasure; but in very deed all things work for the best, to them that fear God.” Chichester: — “Indeed, I find no great fault in this; but here is perilous gear, here is sedition. This was set up upon the church door; you know it well enough.” Woodman: — “Indeed I wrote it to the priest, and to others that took upon them to fetch my child out of my house without my leave, and used it at their pleasure, when they knew it was baptized already, as they were well certified before. Wherefore my conscience compelled me to show them my mind in writing, wherein is contained nothing but the Scriptures of God, rebuking them for their folly.” Chichester: — “Yea, but it is terribly meant, and uncharitably. It is such gear coupled together, I promise you, as I never saw the like. But I promise you, I will make the best of it. And I protest before God, I would you should do as well as mine own soul and body. Be contented: *be enformed . a178 * God hath done his part on you. Cast not yourself away. Remember your wife and children, and the poor that lack your occupying. Mean to follow your vocation. Remember you are not called to be a teacher nor a preacher. St. Paul saith, ‘Let every man walk wherein he is called, and therein abide.’ Remember you are called to another vocation; for God’s sake, walk therein. It is not your office, to do as you have done. You might do as much good (by the report of worshipful men) as any man might do in all the country, by your example; and if you would follow the laws of the catholic church, it would be an occasion to bring a great many into the true church, that are out, as you are.” Woodman: — “I would not that you should say, that I am out of the church of God; for I am not, but do allow the church of God according to his word. Yea, if I were abroad, if I could win any into the true church, that be out, by any means that I could use, I would be very glad. For God knoweth I love all people as myself. And whereas you say I have been a preacher, it is not so. I never took any such thing upon me, as it is well known. But as for teaching I cannot deny; for it becometh every man to teach and instruct his household in the fear of God, and all others, as far as he can, that desire it of him. And whereas you have blamed me for reading the Scripture, and leaving my vocation (as you say), I left not my vocation in reading the Scripture: for I trust I followed my vocation the better there-for. And the greatest cause that I was compelled to read the Scriptures, was, because the preachers and teachers were so changeable.” f322 Chichester: — “No? Did you not preach at a fair?” Woodman: — “No, surely; but it was so reported. I was at a fair, indeed. Whilst I was in prison, I had leave of the council to go home to pay my debts; and then I went to a fair to sell cattle, and there met with me divers poor men that I had set awork, and of love asked me how I did, and how I could away with imprisonment. And I showed them how God had dealt with me, and how he would deal with all them that put their trust in him; and this they called preaching. And, since that, it hath been reported that I have baptized children, and married folks, the which I never did; for I was never minister. Wherefore if I had so done, I had done contrary to the order of the apostles, as God forbid I should.” Chichester: — “ I am well apaid , a179 if you be faultless in those things; for I have heard say the contrary.” Woodman: — “I have showed you the truth, and that no man living shall be able to prove the contrary.” Chichester: — “You said, you do not disallow the true catholic church?” Woodman: — “No, that I do not.” Chichester: — “Why do you not then go to the church? You come not there, it is informed me.” Woodman: — “I trust I am in the true church every day. But to tell you the truth, I come not at the church where the most do resort: for if I should, I should offend, and be offended. For at the last time that I was there, I offended many, and was offended myself. Wherefore, for conscience’ sake, I would not come there. For I was sent to prison for my coming there, and now I am sent to you for biding thence. So they will not be pleased any way with me, for they seek my life. Wherefore look you to it, for I am now in your hands, and you ought to be a house of defense against mine enemies. For if you suffer them to kill me, my blood shall be required at your hands. If you can find any just cause in me worthy of death by God’s word, you may condemn me yourself, and not offend God. Wherefore look to it; the matter is weighty; deliver me :not into their hands, and think so to be discharged.” Chichester: — “I tell you truth, I can do little in the matter; for I have not full authority as yet of mine office; but I will send for you and talk with you, if I wist I :should do you any good.” Woodman: — “I would be glad to talk with you, and to show you my mind in any thing that you shall demand of me, now or at any other time.”

So then he desired the sheriff’s men to tarry dinner with him; “that this man,” said he, “may dine with me also: for it is possible that he may have no great store of meat whither he shall go.”

So we tarried dinner with him, and had no further talk, neither how to prove where the true church of God is, nor of the sacraments, nor of any other thing pertaining to me-ward, not for the space of two hours or more: but he entered in talk with me, how I understood many scriptures; and for bishops’ and priests’ marriages; and whether Paul had a wife or not. To whom I answered, “It is a thing that I have little to do with, as concerning marriages; but I am very well content to talk with you in the matter, as far as my poor learning will serve.” So when he had talked with me of divers scriptures, he liked my talk well. He asked me how I said by St. Paul, whether he were married or not? To whom I answered, “I can prove by the Scriptures that he was never married.” Chichester: — “How prove you that?” Woodman: — “I will prove it well enough, by God’s help. But yet I will prove that Paul might have had a wife, as well as the other apostles had.” Chichester: — “Why, had the * other * apostles a180 wives?” Woodman: — “Yes, all, saving Paul and Barnabas, as I understand it.

For these are Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9: ‘Am I not an apostle?

Am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ? are not ye my work in the Lord? And if I be not an apostle to others, yet to you I am an apostle: for you are the seal of my apostleship :in the Lord. Mine answer to them that ask me, is this: ‘Have we not power to eat and to drink? either have we not power to lead about a sister to wife, as well as the other apostles have, and as the brethren of the Lord? Either have not Barnabas and I power thus to do?’ So this text proveth that Paul and Barnabas were unmarried. But Paul declareth that the rest had wives, and that they had power likewise so to have, but they found no need thereof. But Paul declareth in 1 Corinthians 7, that he that hath no power over his own flesh, may marry: ‘for it is better to marry than to burn. Wherefore to avoid,’ saith he, ‘let every man have his wife.’ He saith, ‘Let every man have his wife, and every woman her husband.’

By this place of Scripture I understand, that bishops and priests may have wives, because they are men; rather than burn, or commit fornication. But I think verily, he that can abstain, having power of his own will, doth best; but if he marry, he sinneth not.”

So then he debated the Scriptures with me divers ways, that a bishop or a priest ought not to have a wife. But I proved by divers scriptures, both in the old law (Genesis 2.) and in the new, that women were at first made for the help of men, the which was spoken generally to all men. “Wherefore,” said I, “every man may have a woman, and sin not, in honest matrimony; as well bishops and deacons, as other men, which you call priests, if they be true ministers of Jesus Christ, and of that order that bishops and deacons were, in Paul’s time. For Paul declareth to Timothy, Timothy 3., ‘that a bishop should be the husband of one wife,’ and how they should be honestly appareled, and how they should bring up their children; and likewise the deacons. “This,” said I, “proveth most plainly, that both bishops and deacons had wives in the apostles’ time;” the which he could not deny. But then he alleged, that no bishop nor priest might take a wife, after he had taken upon him that office, but if he had a wife before he took the office, tried meet for the purpose, for his life and for his learning he might keep his wife, and bring up his children according to St. Paul’s meaning to Timothy; or else might they have no wives.

Then said I, “I think Paul’s meaning in that place was, that a man that hath had two wives, might not be made a bishop nor a deacon, if he had never so much learning. But that place maketh not that a bishop or a deacon may not marry after they be made bishops and deacons: for I am sure that Paul was in the state of a bishop, when he said, ‘He had power to lead about a sister to wife, as well as the other apostles had.’ Here Paul declareth that it was in his power to have a wife, after he had the office of a bishop; which was not in his power, if he had been forbidden of God. Thus have I showed you my mind in this behalf, both of Paul, and also for the marriages of bishops and priests, as I understand the Scriptures. Howbeit, it is a thing the which I have little to do withal; but as you required me to say my mind in that matter, so I have done.” Chichester: — “Marry, I am glad that you have said as you have done. Many do affirm boldly, that Paul trod a wife, and yet cannot prove whether he had or had not, by the Scriptures; but you have said very well. I am glad that ye are contented to be ruled by God’s word; and if you will be contented likewise in other matters, no doubt you shall do well: therefore, gentle goodman Woodman, be ruled. God hath given you a good wit. I protest before God, I would you should do as well as mine own soul and my body, and so would (I dare say) all the worshipful men in the country, as they have reported to me.” Woodman: — “Why, my lord, I take God to record (whom I trust to serve) ; that I would be as glad to live in rest and peace, as any man in all the world, if I might. And [stand to learn, and am contented to be reformed of any thing that I hold, if it can be proved that it be not agreeable to God’s word. And the truth is so, I have talked with a dozen priests at the least, since I was , delivered out of prison, of certain matters, and they have not been able to certify me in any thing that I have asked them: and therefore they have complained on me to the sheriff and justices; making tales and lies on me, to turn me to displeasure, as much as in them lieth. I promise you, there be as many unlearned priests in your diocese, as in any one diocese in England, I think; the more it is to be lamented.” Chichester: — “I promise you, I do much lament it myself: for I hear say no less but it is true, that you say. I would I could remedy it, but! cannot; but I will do the best that I can, when I come into the country, and I will be glad to talk with you some other time, when I am somewhat better at ease. You see, I am very tender now, as I have been this half year and more. Come to dinner; our dinner is ready. I caused you not to tarry for any great cheer that you shall have, nor would I you should think that I go about to win you with my meat: but you be welcome with all my heart. Come, sit down.”

I thanked him, and went to dinner; and there dined with him a merchantman, one of the sheriff’s men, and I, and no more; and we had good cheer, God be praised there-for. We had no talk of the Scriptures all the dinner while; but, when dinner was done, the bishop said, “Now call master Story’s man. For the commissioners have committed you to prison; but I will send for you or ever it be long; and I pray God I may do you good. I would be very glad of it.” Woodman: — “If it please you to send for me, I would be very glad to talk with you, for I like your talk well. And then if it please your lordship to examine me upon any particular matter, I will show you my mind therein, by God’s grace, without dissimulation. But I pray you, let me have nothing to do with master Story, for he is a man without reason, methinketh.” Chichester: — “Well, or ever you go, how say you to the seven sacraments? Let me hear what you say to them, that I may be the willinger to send for you again.” Woodman: — “I know not seven sacraments.” Chichester: — “Then what shall I talk with you? How many do you know?” Woodman: — “I know but two; one the sacrament of baptism, and the other the supper of the Lord. But if you can justly prove by God’s word, that there be more than two, I stand to be reformed.” Chichester: — “If I prove not seven by God’s word, then believe me not.” And so he bade me farewell.

Then the sheriff’s two men, and one of Dr. Story’s men, carried me to Dr. Cooke’s house, which Dr. Cooke commanded them to carry me to the sheriffs prison in Southwark, saying, “He shall be called before us again shortly, and all his fellows; and we shall despatch them from troubling the country any more.”

And so I was brought to the Marshalsea, where I now am merry (God be praised therefor), looking for judgment of my flesh’, for they intend to despatch me shortly, if God will give them leave; but God hath their hearts in his hands, and they can do nothing to me, but as God will give them leave. Wherefore I commit my cause to God only, and I am sure there shall not one hair of my head perish without my heavenly Father’s will, (Matthew 10.) although I bide never so much trouble. Job perished not for all his trouble, although God gave the devil leave to trouble and try him divers and many ways, as God hath suffered his members to trouble and try me divers and many ways, I praise God. They shall as little prevail against my faith. (I have no mistrust) as the devil prevailed against Job, whatsoever they do with my goods, life, or body. For he that kept Job in all his trouble, neither slumbereth nor sleepeth, (Psalm 121.) but keepeth me, and all his elect; that whether we live or die, it shall be to the praise and glory of God. For if we live, we live at the Lord’s will, and if we die, we die to the Lord’s will: so, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s, (Romans 14.) blessed be his name there-for.

Wherefore, dear brethren and sisters, to whom this my writing shall come, be of good cheer, and fear not what man can do unto you; for they can but kill the body: but fear him that hath power to kill both body and soul. And: yet once again I bid you be of good cheer; for the sheriff, with divers other gentlemen and priests, whilst I was at the sheriff’s house, said to me, that all the heretics in the country hung on me, as the people did in times past upon St. Augustine or St. Ambrose, or such like. Wherefore said they, “Look well on it; you have a great thing to answer for.” To the which I answered; “I pray God lay nothing more to my charge, than he will do for heresy;” as I am sure he will not. For he hath set my sins as far from me, as it is from the east to the west (Psalm 103.) so that I am sure they shall never come near to me any more. Yea, and that they call heresy, we serve God withal. And I am sure there is no man nor woman that hangeth on me, but on God. But yet that is their imaginations and thoughts, that if they might win me to them, they should win a great many likewise; and thinking to kill me, if they cannot win me, as I trust in God, and am sure they never shall, by God’s grace, if it were possible for them to kill me ten times. For I am so linked to Christ in a chain by faith, that it is impossible for men to loose us asunder, neither for life nor death, I praise my Lord God there-for. And no doubt their full intent and purpose is to kill me, thinking thereby to make others afraid; which death of my body were best of all for me, if God were so pleased.

But if I may live for the comfort of others, his name be praised there-for. I know what he can do; but what he will do, I know not.

But if death be offered me, so that I cannot refuse it without displeasing of God, I trust in God I shall not offend my brethren in receiving of death, but shall be rather an occasion of the strengthening of their faith, by choosing and receiving of it, and that with joy. For as Christ hath given his life for us, so ought we to give our lives for the defense of the gospel, and comfort of our brethren. And whereas the bishop saith, he will prove seven sacraments, be you out of doubt he shall never be able to do it, no more than he hath proved other arguments with me already.

Thus fare ye well, from the Marshalsea, where I now am, as a sheep appointed to be slain, God be praised there-for.

THE SECOND EXAMINATION OF RICHARD WOODMAN, Before the Bishop of Chichester, and two of his Chaplains; and Dr. Story at the last came to us, the 27th day of April.

First, I was sent for to the Marshalsea by Dr. Story, and was carried to his house besides St. Nicholas Shambles; and when I had spoken to him, he sent me to the bishop of Chichester, and said he would come to him himself straightway. And when we were in the bishop’s hall, we had not tarried long but the bishop sent for me: and when I came before him, I did my duty to him as much as I could.

Then said the bishop, “You be welcome: how do you now?” Woodman: — “Well, I praise God, thanking your lordship for the gentle talk that you had with me at my last departing from you.” Chichester: — “Well goodman Woodman, I have sent for you of love and good will that I bear to you, to talk with you; and I would have you tell me your mind in few words. For indeed the last time that I talked with you, our talk was so long, that I fell into a great drieth thereby, and have been the worse in my body ever since. Wherefore I pray you show me your mind briefly in those particular matters that I shall demand of you, according to your promise that you made when you were with me the last time. How say you, will you?” Woodman: — “Yea forsooth; I will answer to any thing that you shall demand of me (by God’s help) as well as I can.” Chichester: — “How say you by the seven sacraments? for there we left off, and there we will begin again. You said then there were but two. How say you now to it? will you deny all saving two?” Woodman: — “I say now, as I said then. You said, there be seven sacraments; and I said, I knew but two; but if you could approve seven by God’s word, when I came before you again, I must needs grant them. And you said, if you could not prove them by God’s word, I should not believe them. And now I am come to see how well you can prove them.” Herewith he was moved and all his chaplains. Chichester: — “By God and my troth, I ween he thinketh I cannot prove them. How say you to the sacrament of matrimony?” Woodman: — “Why, my lord, St. Paul saith to Timothy, a bishop should be faultless, and you use much swearing, which is a great fault in a bishop of all others, that should be an example to the flock.” Then he and his prelates were in a great rage with me, because I reproved him for his swearing. Chichester: — “What! I perceive this man is worse than he was the last day: what! he taketh upon him to teach me to speak, as though I could not tell what I had to do?” Priest: — “So methinketh, my lord; he is a stout fellow indeed, as we have seen.” Woodman: — “Yea, I am stout, because I do that I am commanded. I dare not for my life hold my peace: for I should bear your sin, the which I will not do for any of you all, I tell you plainly.” Chichester: — “Where find you, that you are commanded to reprove me.” Woodman: — “‘If thou see thy brother sin, reprove him: if he repent, thou hast won thy brother.’ But you repent it not, methinketh, but rather go about to maintain the same. Christ saith, ‘He that breaketh one of the least of my commandments, and teacheth men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven;’ and you go about to teach men so, so far as I see.” Priest: — “Why, my lord, this man is past cure. I see no hope in him.” Chichester: — “No, so methinketh. I will never talk with him more.

Go call master Story: let him do with him what he will. He hath been with his fellows in the Marshalsea, and now he is worse than he was before. I had some hope in him the other day; but now I see none.” Woodman: — “No, I praise God, my faith hangeth upon no men, but upon God.” Priest: — “Nay, my lord, I think he is not the worse for them; but I fear me they be the worse for him. I know this man of old, before mine old lord.” Woodman: — “Well, my lord, look well to it: will you deliver me to other men to shed my blood, and so think to wash your hands of me, as Pilate did by Christ? Nay, you cannot be so discharged.” Chichester: — “I have nothing to do with you; but of my gentleness I have sent for you, because you said, you would declare your mind in any particular matter I would demand of you.” Woodman: — “Why, I do not deny but I will do so, if you do demand it of me. But you go about to deliver me to others to kill me; and I know that there is none that hath to do with me but you.” Chichester: — “I am not consecrated yet: wherefore my lord cardinal may examine you, and condemn you, or my lord of London: for you are now in his diocese.” Woodman: — “Yea, my lord, is the matter even so? Then I perceive whereabout you go. Nay, I will talk no more with you then, if you be at that point. Ask me what you will, but I will show you nothing of my mind. I promise you I will not answer in particular matters, and so you to accuse me to others, and they to kill me.” Chichester: — “I go not about to kill you, but would be glad to hear your mind in the sacraments; and if you understand them not aright, I would be glad with all my heart to show you my mind, how I understand them. For I would you should do as well as mine own self.” Woodman: — “If you would talk with me to do me good, I would be content to hear you, and show you my mind; otherwise I would be loth.” Chichester: — “Nay, I will promise you, if I can do you no good, I will do you no harm; for if I meant to do you harm, I could lay your own handwriting against you; but I will not: wherefore be in no doubt of me. How say you to the sacrament of matrimony? is it a sacrament or no? How think you by it?” Woodman: — “I think it is a holy institution, ordained of God in paradise, and so to continue to the world’s end.” Chichester: — “Lo, now you shall see how you be deceived in that, as you be in all the rest. Come hither. You can read Latin, I am sure.” Woodman: — “Yea, I can read Latin, but I understand very little.” Chichester: — “Come to me; you shall see that Paul calleth it a holy sacrament: for these be the words, ‘For this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and shall be joined to his wife; and two shall be made one flesh. This is a great sacrament.’” (Ephesians 5.) Woodman: — “I remember such a saying, but St. Paul calleth it not a sacrament; but he saith, ‘It is a great mystery.’” Chichester: — “Where saith he so?” Woodman: — “I am not sure in what text it is, but I am sure these be St. Paul’s words; and that he calleth it not a sacrament in all his writings.” Chichester: — “What! the last day ye were full of Scriptures; ‘here it is written,’ and ‘there it is written.’ What! we can rehearse the Scriptures as well as you. Wherefore, if we be sure it is written, it is no great matter for the place. Come hither; I will show you the place, I think, that you mean.”

I looked, and it was written “Sacramentum:” a181 “I know,” said I, “it is ‘a great mystery,’ in the English translation.” f325 Chichester: — “I permit it to be ‘a mystery.’ What is a mystery?” Woodman: — “A mystery is (I take it) unseen; for he saith, he speaketh betwixt Christ and the congregation. So the great mystery that he speaketh of, I take to be the faith of them that be married, which is hid in Christ; the which we see not, but Christ. But the deed which is in the congregation, which is the outward marriage, we see; but the inward marriage of the heart we see not. Wherefore Paul calleth it a mystery. And therefore if it be a sacrament, it is invisible to us: it is not seen, as other sacraments be.” Chichester: — “Nay, I tell you it is a visible sacrament, seen as the others be: for is not the marriage seen? is not the man and woman seen?” Woodman: — “My lord, I pray you, what is a sacrament?” Chichester: — “It is the sign of a holy thing.” Woodman: — “Methinks you have certified me very well. There need not be a sign of a holy thing, where the holy thing is, itself.” Then his chaplains would have interrupted me, but I desired my lord I might say out my mind in the matter. So, with much ado, he bade me say what I could. “There need not to be a sign of a thing, where the thing is itself.

Matrimony is a holy thing itself, and is ended outwardly, and such need no more signs but themselves: wherefore it cannot be a sacrament, as others be.” f326 Chichester: — “Lo, how much you speak against yourself. And for an example, I come by a hosier, and there hangeth a pair of hose, the which be hose, and be a sign of hose that be to sell within.” f327 Priest: — “How say you to this? Now my lord hath hit you home indeed.” Woodman: — “He hath bit me perilously, I tell you, with sophistry, to blind mine eyes withal. I marvel you be not all ashamed of it. I can answer that to all your shames, if I might be justly heard, I tell you plainly.” Priest: — “What, you be angry methinks.” Woodman: — “I am not angry; but I am earnest, I tell you, to see your blindness and folly. I talked of the scriptures that be written, and it is God’s word, to prove my matter true by; and you will prove your matter true by a pair of hose. And as well can you prove it by that, as by God’s word?” Priest: — “Why, is there nothing true, but that is written in the Bible?” Woodman: — “St. Paul saith to the Galatians, (Galatians 1.) ‘If an angel come from heaven, and preach any other doctrine than may be proved by God’s word, hold him accursed:’ and so do I, I tell you plainly.” Priest: — “Here is a Testament in my hand: if I hurl him in the fire and burn him, have I burned God’s word, or not? I will buy a new one for sixteen-pence.” Woodman: — “I say, you have burned God’s word, and I believe, he that will burn a Testament willingly, would burn God himself, if he were here, if he could: for he and his word are all one.”

Then they made a great laughing at it. Woodman: — “Laugh on,” quoth I. “Your laughing will be turned to weeping, and all such joy will be turned to mourning, if you repent it not with speed.” Then the bishop began to cloak the priest’s folly, saying, “Why, if my counting-house were full of books, and if my house should be on fire by chance, and be so burned, were God’s word burned?” Woodman: — “No, my lord, because they were burned against your will; but yet if you should burn them willingly, or think it well, and not be sorry for it, you burn God’s word, as well as he. For he that is not sorry for a shrewd turn, doth allow it to be good.” Chichester: — “Follow your vocation; you have a little learning. ‘ We have an altar, whereof you may not eat.’ (Hebrews 13.) What meaneth St. Paul thereby?” a182 Woodman: — “There is no .man so foolish to eat stones, I trow.” Chichester: — “What mockers and scorners be you, to say no man will be so foolish to eat stones! it is a plain mock.” Woodman: — “Why, my lord, you said I had no learning, nor knowledge, nor understanding. Wherefore it becometh you to make things more plain to me, and not to ask me such dark questions, and yet blame me too; methinks it is too much.” Chichester: — “I dare say, you know what it meaneth well enough.

The most fool in my house will understand my meaning better than you do.”

There stood some of his men not far off, talking together beside a window. He called one of them by his name. Chichester: — “Come hither. I say to thee, thou shalt not eat of this table. What do I mean thereby?” The Man: — “Forsooth, my lord, you would not have me eat of this table;” laying his hand thereupon.

With this answer he made all them in the house to fall on laughing; and I could not hold it in, but hurst out with laughter, and said, “He hath expounded the matter almost as well as I.” Chichester: — “He meaneth well enough, if you would understand him. — Answer me again, to make it more plain. I say to thee, Thou shalt not eat of this table. What mean I thereby?” The Man: — “Forsooth you would not have me eat this table.”

These words made them all laugh: wherewith the bishop was almost angry, because the answer proved no better, and said, “He meaneth that I would not have him eat any of the meat that is set upon this table. How sayest thou? dost thou not mean so?” The Man: — “Yes forsooth, my lord, that was my meaning indeed.” Woodman: — “Yea, my lord, now you have told him what you mean, he can say so too; and so could I have done (as little wit as I have), if you had said, Paul meant that no man might eat of that which was offered upon the altar, but the priests.” Chichester: — “Yea, I perceive you understand the meaning of Paul well enough, but that you list to cavil with me.” Woodman: — “Why my lord, do you think I understand such dark places of the Scripture, without learning? You said even now, I had no knowledge nor learning; wherefore I answered you, as you judged of me.” Chichester: — “Well, let this matter pass, and let us turn to the principal again. How say you by the sacrament of the altar?” Woodman: — “You mean the sacrament of the body and blood of Jesus Christ.” Chichester: — “I mean the sacrament of the altar, and so I say.” Woodman: — “You mean Christ to be the altar, do you not?” Chichester: — “I mean the sacrament of the altar in the church.

What! is it so strange to you?” Woodman: — “It is strange to me indeed, if you mean the altar of stone.” Chichester: “It is that altar that I mean.” Woodman: — “I understand not the altar so.” Chichester: — “No, I think so indeed; and that is the cause that you be deceived. I pray you, how do you understand the altar then?” Woodman: — “If you will give me leave till I have done, I will show you how I understand the altar, and where it is.” Chichester: — “Yes, you shall have leave to say your mind, as much as you will.” Woodman: — “It is written in Matthew 18: “That wheresoever two or three be gathered together in Christ’s name, there is he in the midst among them: and whatsoever they ask the Father upon earth, it shall be granted them in heaven.’ Agreeing to the fifth of Matthew, saying, ‘When thou comest to offer thy gift at the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy offering, and go first and be reconciled to thy brother, and then offer thy gift.’” The priests would have interrupted me, but the bishop ]bade them let me alone. Chichester: — “You shall hear a pretty conclusion anon.” Woodman: — “I pray you let me make an end, and then find fault with me, if you can. Now to the matter. In these two places of Scripture, I prove that Christ is the true altar, whereon every christian man and woman ought to come and offer their gifts. First, wheresoever the people are gathered together in. Christ’s name, there is he in the midst; and where he is, there is the altar: so that we may be bold to come and offer our gift, if we be in love and charity. If we be not, we must leave there our offering, and go first and be reconciled to our brother, and agree with him quickly, and so forth; and then come and offer the gift. Some will say, How shall I agree with my adversary, when he is not nigh by a hundred miles? may I not pray till I have spoken with him? To all such I answered, If thou presume to pray among the faithful, wishing any evil to any man, woman, or child, thou askest vengeance upon thyself; for no such asketh any thing else of the Lord in his prayer. Wherefore agree with thy adversary, that is, make thy life agreeable to God’s word. Say in thy heart without dissimulation, that thou askest God and all the world forgiveness from the bottom of thy heart, intending never to offend them any more.

Then all such may be bold to come and offer their gift, their prayer on the altar, where the people of God be gathered together. Thus have! showed you my mind, both of the altar, and of the offering, as I understand it.” Chichester: — “Do you understand the offering and the altar so?

I never heard any man understand it so; no not Luther the great heretic, that was condemned by a general council, and his picture burned.” Woodman: — “If he were a heretic, I think he understood it not so indeed; but I am sure all Christians ought to understand it so.” Chichester: — “Oh! what vain glory is in you, as though you understood all things, and other men nothing. Hear me: I will show you the true understanding, both of the altar, and the offering on the altar. ‘We have an altar,’ said Paul, ‘that ye may not eat of:’ (Hebrews 13.) meaning thereby, that no man might eat of that which was offered on the altar, but the priest. For in Paul’s time, all the living that the priest had, the people came and offered it on the altar, money, or other things: and when the people came to offer it, and then remembered that they had any thing against their brother, then they left their offering upon the altar, and went and were reconciled to their brother; and. they came again and offered their gift, and the priest had it. This is the true understanding of the place that you have rehearsed: wherefore you be deceived.” Woodman: — “My lord, that was the use in the old law. Christ was the end of that. But indeed I perceive by Paul’s words, the sacrifice was offered in Paul’s time; yet that maketh not that it was well done, but he rebuked it. Wherefore it seemeth to me, that you be deceived.” Chichester: — “Who shall be judges betwixt us in this matter?” Woodman: — “The twelfth of John declareth who shall be judge in the last day.” Chichester: — “You mean the word shall judge the word. How can that be?” Woodman: — “St. Peter saith, ‘The scripture hath no private interpretation:’ but one scripture must be understood by another.” Chichester: — “You will understand it one way, and I will understand it another way; and who shall be judges betwixt us then?” Woodman: — “The true church of God is able to discuss all doubts; to whom I refer it.” Chichester: — “I am glad you say so, if you will say so indeed.” Woodman: — “My lord, I never meant otherwise.” Chichester: — “The church of God doth allow the sacrament of the altar.” Woodman: — “What do you offer now upon the altar?” Chichester: — “We offer up, in the blessed sacrament of the altar, the body of Christ, to pacify the wrath of God the Father;” and therewith they all put off their caps to the abominable idol. Woodman: — “St. Paul saith to the Hebrews, ‘We are sanctified by offering of the body of Jesus Christ upon the cross once for all:’ (Hebrews 10.) and every priest is daily ministering, and oftentimes offereth one manner of offering, which can never take away sins;’ and that is the offering that you use to offer. As far as I can see, you be priests after the order of Aaron, that offered up sacrifice for their own sins, and the sins of the people.” Chichester: — “Nay, Aaron’s sacrifice was with blood, which signifieth the death of Christ, the which was ended upon the cross by his bloodshedding: but we are priests after the order of Melchizedech, the which offereth bread to the king in remembrance, and signifieth the giving of Christ’s body in bread and wine at the last Supper, the which he gave to his disciples, and commanded it to be used to the end of the world. This is the sacrifice that we offer, according to his word.” Woodman: — “Methinketh you have made the matter very plain to me, that as Christ was the end of all sacrifices, so was he the beginning of the sacraments, willing them to be used in the remembrance of him, to the world’s end.” Chichester: — “What, in remembrance of him, and not himself, as his word saith, ‘Take, eat, this is my body!’ It is not the sign only, but the thing itself. How say you? Is it not his body, after the words be spoken by the priest? How say you? Go briefly to work, for I cannot long tarry with you.” f330 Woodman: — “My lord, if you will answer me to one sacrament, I will answer you to another.” Chichester: — “Yes, I am very well contented with that.” Woodman: — “If you say the words of baptism over the water, and there be no child there, is there true baptism?” Chichester: — “No, there must be the water, the word, and the child; and then it is baptism.” Woodman: — “Very well. Then if a child be baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, it is not truly baptized.” Chichester: — “No: the child must be baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Ghost; or else it is not truly baptized.” Woodman: — “Then there may be nothing added nor taken away from the sacraments: may there?” Chichester: — “No,” said the bishop. Woodman: — “Now, my lord, I will answer to you, if it please you.” Chichester: — “Well, how say you, ‘Take, eat; this is my body:’ is it not Christ’s body, as soon as the words be said?” Woodman: — “My lord, I will answer you by your own words, that you answered me, which is true: the water, the word, and the child, all these together make baptism; the bread, wine, and the word make the sacrament; and the eater, eating in true faith, maketh it his body. Here I prove it is not Christ’s body, but to the faithful receiver: for he said, ‘Take, eat, this is my body.’ He called it not his body before eating, but after eating. And St. Augustine saith, ‘Believe, and thou hast eaten.’ And St. John saith, ‘He that believeth in God, dwelleth in God, and God in him:’ wherefore it is impossible to dwell in God, and to eat his body, without a true faith.” Priest: — “Then the faith of the receiver maketh it his body, and not his word, by your saying. I pray you what did Judas eat?” Woodman: — “Judas did eat the sacrament of Christ, and the devil withal.” Priest: — “He eat the body of Christ unworthily, as St. Paul saith.” Woodman: — “Nay, St. Paul saith no such thing. He speaketh not of eating of his body unworthily, but of the sacrament unworthily. For he saith, ‘Whosoever eateth of this bread, and drinketh of this cup unworthily, eateth and drinketh his own damnation, because he maketh no difference of the Lord’s body,’ and not because he eateth the Lord’s body. If Judas had ate Christ’s body, it must needs follow, that Judas is saved. For Christ saith in John vi., ‘Whosoever eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life, and I will raise him up again at the last day.’” Priest: — “My lord, this man is an interpreter after his own mind.” Chichester: — “I see it is but folly to talk with you: it is but lost labor. How say you? do you not believe that after the words be said, there remaineth neither bread nor wine, but the very body of Christ really? Make me a plain answer, for I will talk no more with you.” Woodman: — “I will make you a direct answer, how I believe of the true sacrament. I do believe that if I come to receive the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ truly ministered, believing that Christ was born for me, and that he suffered death for me, and that I shall be saved from my sins by his blood-shedding, and so receive the sacrament in that remembrance, then I believe I do receive wholly Christ, God and man, mystically by faith: this is my belief.” Chichester: — “Why, then it is no body without faith! God’s word is of no force, as you count it.” Woodman: — “My lord, I have told you my mind without dissimulation, and more you get not of me, without you will talk with me by the Scriptures; and if you will do so, I will begin anew with you, and prove it more plainly three or four manner of ways, that you shall not say nay, to that I have said, yourself.”

Then they made a great laughing, and said, “This is a heretic indeed; it is time he were burned:” which words moved my spirit, and I said to them, “Judge not, lest you be judged:” for as you judge me, you shall be judged yourselves. For that you call heresy, I serve God truly with, as you all shall well know, when you shall be in hell, and have blood to drink, and shall be compelled to say for pain, ‘This was the man that we jested on, and whose talk we thought foolishness, and his end to be without honor: but now we may see how he is counted among the saints of God, and we are punished.’ These words shall you say, being in hell, if you repent not with speed, if you consent to the shedding of my blood: wherefore look to it, I give you counsel.” Priest: — “What! you be angry, methinks. Now I will say more to you than I thought to have done. You were at Bexhill a twelvemonth agone, and sent for the parson and talked with him in the churchyard, and would not go into the church; for you said, it was the idol’s temple. Yea, I was with mine old lord, when he came to the King’s Bench to you; and you said many stout words to him.” Woodman: — “That I said, I said; and whereas you said, I was angry, I take God to my record, I am not, but am zealous in the truth, and speak out of the Spirit of God, with cheerfulness.” Priest: — “The Spirit of God? hough, hough, hough! think you that you have the Spirit of God?” Woodman: — “I believe surely that I have the Spirit of God, I praise God there-for: and you be deceivers, mockers, and scorners before God, and be the children of hell, all the sort of you, as far I can see.”

And therewith cam in Dr. Story, pointing at me with his finger, speaking to the bishop, in Latin, saying at the length, “I can say nothing to him, but he is a heretic. I have heard you talk this hour and a half, and can hear no reasonableness in him.” Woodman: — “Judge not, lest you be judged: for as you judge, you shall be judged yourself.” Story: — “What! be you a preaching? you shall preach at a stake shortly with your fellows. My lord, trouble yourself no more with him.”

With these words, one brought word that the abbot of Westminster was come to dine with the bishop, and many other gentlemen and women. Then there was rushing away with speed to meet him.

Then said Dr. Story to my keeper, “Carry him to the Marshalsea again, and let him keep close; and let nobody come to speak with him.” And so they departed.

Then one of the priests began to flatter with me, and said, “For God’s sake remember yourself. God hath given you a good wit: you have read the Scriptures well, and have borne them well in memory. It were great pity you should do amiss.” Woodman: — “What a flatterer be you, to say my wit is good, and that I have read the Scriptures well; and but even now you said I was a heretic and despised me. If I be a heretic, I can have no good wit as you have confessed. But I think your own conscience doth accuse you.

God give you grace to repent, if it be his will.” Priest: — “I call it a good wit, because you are expert in all questions.” Woodman: — “You may call it a wicked wit, if it agree not with God’s word.” Then one cried, “Away, away, here come strangers!” So we departed, and I came again to the Marshalsea, with my keeper.

THE THIRD EXAMINATION OF RICHARD WOODMAN (COPIED WITH HIS OWN HAND) Before Dr. Langdale, Parson of Buxsted, in Sussex, and Chaplain to my Lord Montague, and Master James Gage, at my Lord Montague’s House, beside St. Mary Overy’s, in Southwark, the 12th day of May.

The 12th day of May the marshal came to the Marshalsea, and sent for me to speak with him. When I came before him, and had done my duty, he asked my name, and what countryman I was. I showed him both. Then he asked me, when I was abroad in the city. To whom I answered, “If it shall please your mastership, I was abroad in the city on Monday was sevennight.” Marshal: — “What made you abroad?” Woodman: — “The bishop of Chichester sent for me, to talk with me at home, at his house beside St. Nicholas’s Shambles.” Marshal: — “Were you abroad no otherwise than so?” Woodman: — “No forsooth; I was never abroad since I was sent hither, but then; for I have nothing to do abroad, unless they send for me.” Marshal: — “This is a marvelous matter. I promise you I was not so rebuked these seven years, as I was for you within these three days. It is reported that you were abroad in the city at certain taverns, and spake seditious words both in the taverns and streets, as you went.” Woodman: — “Sir, the truth is, I was in never a house nor tavern, whiles I was abroad, but in the bishop’s house, as my keeper can, and will (I am sure) testify: nor did I ever talk with any man in the streets as I came, but with my keeper, saving with one man, indeed, of the parish of Framfield, in Sussex, where master James Gage dwelleth. His name is Robert Smith, being one of my worst enemies; who stood in a wain as we came by, and was unlading of cheese (methought) but a little way from the Marshalsea. Indeed I bade him God speed, and asked him how he did: and he said, Well, he thanked me. And he asked me, how I did: and I said, Well, I praise God; and that was all the talk that we had. And these words were spoken as I came by him. I promise you, sir, I stood ‘not still while I spake them, as my keeper can tell: and I think these words were not seditious words, but might be spoken well enough (I think), or else it were very strait.” Marshal: — “Then is it to be thought, that that man reported otherwise than it was. I am glad it is as you say. Well, make you ready: for you must go forth straightway, where you shall be examined of that and of other things, where you shall answer for yourself. Go make haste, for I will tarry till you be ready.”

So I departed from him, and went to my prison-fellows, and took my leave of them, desliking them to pray for me; for I thought verily to come no more to them: for I supposed I should have gone before the council, because the marshal said, he would tarry for me himself. And especially because he said, it was reported that I had spoken seditious words, it made me think it is possible that there may be some false things imagined upon me, to bring me to my end. I remember what Christ said, “The servant is not above his lord.” Seeing the Jews brought false witness against Christ, I thought they would do much more, or at the least do so to me, if God would suffer them; which made me east the worst. But I was, and am sure (I praise my Lord God), that all the world is not able to accuse me justly of any such thing. Which thing considered, made me merry and joyful; and I was surely certified, that they could do no more against me, than God would give them leave. And so I bade my prison-fellows farewell, and went into the porter’s lodge to the marshal; and he delivered me to one of his own men, and to one of my lord Montague’s men, and bade me go with them: and they carried me to my lord Montague’s place in Southwark, not far from St. Mary Overy’s; and brought me into a chamber in lord Montague’s house; and there was one Dr. Langdale, chaplain to my lord. My keepers said to the doctor, “This is the man that we went for.” Langdale: — “Is your name Woodman?” Woodman: — “Yea, forsooth, that is my name.”

Then he began with a great circumstance, and said, “I am sorrow for you, that you will not be ruled, but stand so much in your own conceit, displeasing our father and others, judging that all the realm doth evil, save a few that do as you do:” with many such words, which be too long to rehearse, but I will declare the substance of them. Langdale: — “What think you of them that died long agone — your grandfathers, with their fathers before them? You judge them to be damned, and all others that use the same that they did throughout all Christendom, unless it be in Germany, and here in England a few years, and in Denmark; and yet they are returned again. Thus we are sure this is the truth; and I would you should do well. Your father is an honest man, and one of my parish, and hath wept to me, divers times, because you would not be ruled; and he loveth you well, and so doth all the country, both rich and poor, if it were not for those evil opinions that you hold;” with many such like tales of Robin Hood. f332 Woodman: I pray you give me leave to speak a few words to you.” Langdale: — “Yes, say your mind.” Woodman: — “You have told a great tale, and a long, as it were against me (as you think), saying, I hold this and that; I judge my father and my grand- father, and almost all the world, without it be a few that be of our sect. But I judge no man. But the twelfth of John declareth who it is that judgeth, and shall judge in the last day. The father shall not bear the son’s offences, nor the son the father’s offences: but ‘ that soul that sinneth shall die,’ as saith the prophet.

And again, we may not follow a multitude to do evil, as saith the prophet; for the most go the wrong way. And Christ saith in Luke 12., that his flock is a little flock. Here be places enow to discharge me, although I do not as the most do? But can any man say that do not as I ought to do? Where be my accusers?” Langdale: — “What! you be full of scripture methinks, and call for your accusers, as though you were afraid to utter your mind to me. But I would have you not be afraid to talk with me. For I mean no more hurt to you, than I do to myself, I take God to be my record.” Woodman: — “I cannot tell: it is hard trusting of fair words. When a man cannot trust his father nor brother, nor others that have been his familiar friends, but they deceive him: a man may lawfully follow the example of Christ towards them that he never saw before, saying, ‘Be as wise as serpents, and as innocent as doves:’ ‘Beware of men, for they go about to betray you.’ And it maketh me to suspect you much, because you blame me for answering with the Scriptures. It maketh me to doubt that you would take vantage of me, if I should speak mine own words. Wherefore I will take as good heed as I can, because I have been deceived already by them I trusted most. Wherefore blame me not, though I answer circumspectly. It shall not be said, by God’s help, that I will run willfully into mine enemies’ hands; and yet I praise God, my life is not dear to myself, but it is dear with God: wherefore I will do the uttermost that I can to keep it.” Langdale: — “You be afraid where no fear is; for I was desired of master sheriff and his brother, and of other of your friends, to talk with you; and they told me, that you were desirous to talk with me. And now ye make the matter as though you had nothing to do with me, and as though you were sent to prison for nothing: for you call for your accusers, as though there were no man to accuse you. But if there were no man to accuse you, your own hand-writing did accuse you enough, that you set upon the church-door (if you be remembered), and other letters that you let fall abroad, some at one place and some at another.

Wherefore you need not to call for your accusers. Your own hand will accuse you enough, I warrant you; it is kept safe enough. I would not for two hundred pounds there were so much against me.” Woodman: — “I will not deny mine own hand, by God’s help; for it cannot be lightly counterfeited. I do not deny but I wrote a letter to the priest and others of the parish, declaring to them their folly and presumption to come into my house without my love or leave, and fet out my child and use it at their pleasures; which moved me to write my mind to them: and because I could not tell how to convey it to them, I set it on the church-door. Which letter my lord of Chichester hath, for he showed it me when I was before him: wherein is contained nothing but the very Scriptures, to their reproach. Let it be laid before me when you or he will, I will answer to it by the help of God, to all their shames that I wrote it to. And as for any other letters, I wrote none, as you said I did; neither had I wrote that, if they had done like honest neighbors. Wherefore if they be offended with me for that, I will answer them with Christ’s words, in Matthew 18. ‘Woe unto themselves,’ because they gave me the occasion. “And whereas you said, I was desirous to speak with you; and that master sheriff and his brother, and other of my friends, willed me to talk with you; and that I fare now as though I had nothing to do with you, and as though I were sent to prison for nothing; the truth is, I know no more wherefore I am sent to prison, than the least child in this town knoweth. And as for me, I desired not master sheriff to speak with you; but indeed he desired me that I would speak with you, and utter my faith to you. For he supposed that I did not believe well, and he reported you to be learned. But I refused to talk with you at the first; for I remembered not that you were the parson at Buxted: wherefore I said to him, I would not utter my faith to any but the bishop. I said, ‘He is mine ordinary: wherefore I appeal unto him. I am commanded by St. Peter, (1 Peter 3.) to render account of my hope that I have in God, to him that hath authority: wherefore I will talk with none in that matter, but with him. Wherefore send me to him, if you will; or else there shall no man know my faith, I tell you plainly.’ These words then made the sheriff angry, and he went his way. And when he was gone from me, I remembered that it was you, that he would have me to talk with. And then I remembered that I had made a promise to my father, and goodman Day of Uckfield, not past a fortnight before I was taken, that whensoever you came into the country, I would speak with you by God’s help, because they praised you so much, that ye were learned, and they would fain hear us talk. “So all these things called to remembrance, I desired my keeper, which was the sheriff’s man, to show his master, that I would fain speak with him; for I had remembered things that were not in my mind before, when I spake to him. So he went to his master, and showed him the matter; and he came to me. And then told him my mind, and what promise I had made: and he said, he would send for you on the morrow, as he did. And the messenger brought word, you could not come; you preached before the queen, he said.

Whereupon the sheriff came up himself, and spake to the bishop that he should come down, but he was sick. So when he came home again, he sent me to the bishop, and I have talked with him twice already; and I am sure he can find no fault in me, if he say justly; and yet I know not wherefore I was sent to prison. For I was not guilty of that which was laid to my charge, that I had baptized children, the which I never did, as God knoweth: wherefore I have wrong to be thus handled.” Dr. Langdale: — “Indeed it hath been reported, that you have christened children; and that you christened your own child. But since, I heard say, you would not have the child christened; which is a damnable way, if you deny baptism. And they said your child was not christened in a fortnight or three weeks after it was born, and the chiefest of the parish were fain to fetch it out of your house against your will. Wherefore you wrote railing words against the priest and them for their good will; the which declareth that you allow not baptizing of children. And if the child had died, it had been damned, because it was not christened; and you should have been damned, because you were the let thereof.” Woodman: — “What abominable lies have you told! Be you not ashamed to speak such words as you have done? First you say, I christened mine own child; and by and by you said, I denied baptizing of children, and that my child was a fortnight or three weeks old or it was baptized. What abominable lies be these! I neither baptized my child myself, neither held against the baptizing of it, but did most gladly allow it; for it was baptized as soon as it was born, and I was glad thereof. Therefore you be to blame to report so of me.” Langdale: — “I pray you, who baptized it? some unthrift of your providing?” Woodman: — “Nay surely, the midwife baptized it.” Langdale: — “But it was your mind, that it should be so.” Woodman: — “Nay sure, I was not nigh home by almost twenty miles, nor heard that my wife was brought to bed four days after the child was christened, For it was not like to live; and therefore the midwife baptized it.” Langdale: — “Would you have had it to church to have been christened, if it had not been christened?” f336 Woodman: — “That is no matter, what I would have done. I am sure you cannot deny but it is sufficiently done, if the midwife do it; and I hold not against the doing of it, neither did I it myself, as you said I did.” Langdale: — “Wherefore were you displeased with them that fet it to church?” Woodman: — “First tell me whether the child were not truly baptized by the midwife?” Langdale: — “Yes it was truly baptized, if she baptized it in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” Woodman: — “Yes, that I am sure she did; and you grant that was sufficient. And the cause that I blamed them for, was because they did more to it than need was, by your own saying. Yea, they fet it out of my house without my leave: the which was not well done.” Langdale: — “They had it to church, to confirm that was done.” Woodman: — “Yea, but that was more than needs. But God forgive them, if it be his will. But let that matter pass. But I would you should not say, that I hold against baptizing of children: for I do not, I take God to record; but do allow it to be most necessary, if it be truly used.

But methought you spake words even now, that were uncomely to be spoken: if a child die, and be not baptized, it is damned. How think you? be all damned that receive not the outward sign of baptism?” Langdale: — “Yea, that they be.” Woodman: — “How prove you that?” Langdale: - “Go, saith Christ, and baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: and he that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved; and he that believeth not, shall be damned.

These be the words of Christ, which are my warrant.” Woodman: — “Then by your saying, baptism bringeth faith, and all that be baptized in the water shall be saved, shall they? how say you?” Langdale: — “Yea, that they shall: if they die before they come to discretion, they shall be saved every one of them: and all that be not baptized, shall be damned, every one of them.”

Then my spirit was moved with him to reprove him sharply, because I had manifest scriptures fresh in my mind against his saying. Then said I, “O Lord God! how dare you speak such blasphemy against God and his word, as you do? How dare you for your life take upon you to preach, and teach the people, and understand not what you say? For I protest before God, you understand not the Scriptures, but as far as natural reason can comprehend. For if you did, you would be ashamed to speak as you do.” Langdale: — “Wherein have I spoken amiss? Take heed, you have a toy in your head will make you despair I dare say you cannot tell what you say. Wherefore reprove you me as you do?” Woodman: — “Because you blaspheme God: and as for despairing, take heed to yourself, for 1 cannot see but you be out of your wit already; and as for me, I praise God, I can tell what I say, and what you have said: the which shall turn to your shame, if you will talk the Scriptures with me.”

So when he perceived that I spake earnestly, and challenged him to talk by the word, his color began to change, and his flesh began to tremble and quake And I said, “Prove your sayings true, if you can: for I will prove them false, by God’s help. You said, ‘All children, or others, that be not baptized with water, shall be damned.’ I dare not say so for all the good in the world. And you brought in the saying of Christ for your warrant. In Mark 16. it is written, ‘Whoso believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved;’ which words be very true: ‘and whoso believeth not, shall be damned,’ which words be very true also. He saith, ‘He that believeth not, shall be damned.’ Yea, St. John saith ‘He that believeth not, is condemned already, because he believeth not.’ But neither of these two scriptures, nor any other scripture in all the New Testament, saith that he that is not baptized, shall be damned, or is damned already.

But ‘if he believe not, he shall be damned, and is damned already,’ as is aforesaid.”

Then he would have interrupted me, and would have laid to my charge, that I was an anabaptist. But I would give him no place to speak, but said, “Let me make an end, and then say what you can.

You shall have as much to do, by God’s help, with this matter, as ever you had to answer thing in your life. You know (1 am sure), it is no manners a184 to pluck a tale out of a man’s mouth; nor is it the order of reasoning, as you know that, better titan I can tell you.” Then Dr. Langdale bade me say on. Woodman: — “My saying was, that they that believe not, shall be damned, and be damned already. But I dare not say for all the goods under heaven, that all they that receive no material baptism by the water shall be damned, as you have said: yet I would you should not gather of these words, that I deny baptism, as you were about to lay to my charge, ere ever I had half told out my tale. But I would not have you, nor any man, so rash in judgment to condemn the thing that they are not able to prove by the word, and to make it seem to the simple, that the outward washing of the water were the cause of faith.” Langdale: — “Why, is it not so? will you deny it? How say you? will you deny it? I say, the child hath no faith before it is baptized; and therefore the baptizing bringeth the faith. How say you to it? make me a plain answer to this question.” Woodman: — “Now I perceive you go about nothing else, but to take vantage of my words: but, by God’s help, I will answer you so, that you shall well see your sayings untrue. And yet I will not speak mine own words, but the words of the Holy Ghost, out of the mouth of the prophets and apostles: and then ask them whether they will deny it. You said, that faith cometh by baptism, had by the use of material water. I must be so bold to ask you, whether Jacob was baptized, before he had faith. St. Paul saith in Romans 9: ‘Ere ever the children were born, ere ever they had done either good or bad, that the purpose of God, which is by election, might stand, not by the reason of works, but by the grace of the caller, the elder shall serve the younger: Jacob have I loved, and Esau have I hated.’ How think you, Had this child faith or ever he were born, or no? answer to this, if you can!” Langdale: — “What? you speak of the old law. Jacob was not christened, but circumcised. I speak of baptism, and you are gone from baptizing, to the time of circumcision: answer me to the baptizing. And methinks by your talk, you deny original sin, and free will, by the words that you brought in of St. Paul: for if children can be saved without baptism, then it must needs follow, that children have no original sin, the which is put away in the baptizing. But I think you know not what original sin is, nor free will neither, methinks, by’ your talk.’ Woodman: — “Yes, I praise God, I think, I can tell them all better than you can; methinks even by your words. First, I pray you, what free will hath man to do good of himself? Tell me this first, and then I will answer to all your other questions that you have objected against me.” Langdale: — “I say, that all men have as much free will now, as Adam had before his fall.” Woodman: — “I pray you how prove you that?” Langdale: — “Thus I prove it, that as sin entered into the world, and by the means of one that sinned, all men became sinners, the which was by Adam: so by the obedience of one man, righteousness came upon all men that had sinned, and set them as free as they were before their fall; the which was by Jesus Christ.” (Romans 5.) Woodman: - “O Lord! What an overthrow have you given yourself here in original sin, and yet cannot see it! for in proving that we have freewill, you have denied quite original sin. For here you have declared that we be set as free by the death of Christ, as Adam was before his fall, and I am sure that Adam had no original sin before his fall. If we be as free now as he was then, marvel wherefore Paul complained thrice to God, to take away the sting of it, God making him answer, and saying, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’ These words with divers others, prove original sin in us; but not that it shall hurt God’s elect people, but that his grace is sufficient for all his. But you say in one place, it is not without baptism; and in another place, you put it away quite, by the death of Christ; and in very deed you have spoken truer in the matter than you are aware of. For all that believe in Christ are baptized in the blood of Christ that he shed on the cross, and in the water that he sweat for pain, and putting away of our sins at his death. And yet I say with David in Psalm 51, ‘In sin was I born, and in sin hath my mother conceived me:’ but in no such sin that shall be imputed, because I am born of God by faith, as St. John saith, (John 3.)

Therefore I am blessed, as saith the prophet, ‘Because the Lord imputeth not my sin,’ (Psalm 32.) and not because I have no sin; but because God hath not imputed my sins. Not of our own deserving, but of his free mercy he hath saved us. “Where is now your free will become, that you speak of? If we have free will, then our salvation cometh of our own selves, and not of God; the which is a great blasphemy against God and his word.

For St. James saith, ‘Every good gift and every perfect gift cometh from above, from the Father of light, with whom is no variableness, neither is he changed into darkness. Of his own will he begat us.’ (James 1.) ‘For the wind bloweth where it listeth, and we hear the sound thereof,’ as saith St. John; ‘but we cannot tell from whence it cometh, neither whither it goeth: even so is it with every one that is born of God.’ (John 3.) For St. Paul saith, ‘It is God that worketh in us the will, and also the deed, even of good will.’ (Philippians 2.) Seeing then that every good and perfect gift cometh from above, and lighteth upon whom it pleaseth God, and that he worketh in us both the will and the deed; methinks all the rest of our own will is little worth, or nought at all, unless it be wickedness. So methinks here be places enow, to prove that a man hath no free will to do good of himself; with a hundred places more that I could recite, if time did serve. And as for original sin, I think I have declared my mind therein, how it remaineth in man; which you cannot deny, unless you deny the word of God. Now, if you will suffer me, I will prove my saying of Jacob and Esau, that I brought in to prove that faith was before baptism, and you refused it, because (you said) Jacob was not baptized. If you will give me leave, you shall see what I can say therein: for methinks you think my talk long.” This I said, because I saw he was sore offenden at my sayings. Langdale: — “Say what you can; for it availeth me to say nothing to you. For I was desired to send for you, to teach you, and there will no words of mine take place in you; but you go about to reprove me. Say what you will, for me.” Woodman: — “I take not upon me to teach you, but to answer to such things as you lay to my charge; and I speak not mine own mind, but the mind of the Holy Ghost, written by the prophets and apostles.

Will you give me leave to answer briefly in that matter, that you may report to others what I hold?” And he said he was contented. But I think it was for nothing but to have caught vantage of my words. Woodman: — “First, If you be remembered, you said that if my child had died without baptism, if I had been the cause that it had not been baptized, the child should have been damned, and I too. How say you?” Langdale: — “Yea, that you should.” Woodman: — “That is most untrue; for the prophet saith, ‘The father shall not bear the child’s offences, nor the child the father’s offences: but the soul that sinneth shall die.’ What could the child have done withal, if it had died without baptism? the child could not do withal. How say you unto this? And I am sure, that which I brought in, in the old law, to prove that faith is before baptism, is not disagreeable unto the word; for circumcision was a figure of baptism.

And that I may bring to prove baptism by, as well as St. Peter did; (1 Peter 3.) for he brought in Noah’s flood, which was a long time before Jacob and Esau, to prove baptism, saying, ‘While the ark was a preparing, wherein few (that is to say, eight souls), were saved by water; (Genesis 6.) like as baptism also now sayeth us, not in putting away of the filth of the flesh, but that there is a good conscience consenting to God.’ Here Peter proveth, that water had not saved Noah and the other seven, no more than it saved all the rest, if it had not been for their faith, which faith now sayeth us; not in putting away of the filthy soil of the flesh, by the washing of the water, but by a good conscience consenting unto God. But you said, If they be baptized with the water, if they die before they come to years of discretion, they be all saved; the which St. Peter is clean against, unless you grant that children have faith before they be baptized. Now I ask you, what consent of conscience the children have, being infants? For you say they believe not before they be baptized: ergo then, they consent -not to be baptized, because they believe not. And by this it followeth, that none shall be saved, although they be baptized. I would fain see how you can - answer this.” Langdale: — “You are the most perverse man that ever I knew. You wot not what you say. The children are baptized in their godfathers’ and godmothers’ faith, and that is the good conscience that St. Peter speaketh of; and the christening is the keeping of the law, that St.

Paul speaketh of, saying, ‘Neither is circumcision anything worth, nor uncircumcision anything worth, but keeping of the law is altogether.

Like as the circumcision was the keeping of the old law, so is baptism the keeping of the new law.” Woodman: — “Ah! methought if you would talk with me, you should be fain to bring in the old law to maintain your sayings by; for all that you refused it, when I brought it in. But yet it serveth not for your purpose, so much as you think for. For here you have confessed, that neither circumcision availeth, nor uncircumcision, the which you yourself have coupled with baptism, proving that none of them both prevaileth, but keeping of the law is altogether; the which law is kept (you say) by the outward signs: the which is nothing so; for Abraham believed God, and that was counted to him for righteousness; and this was before he was circumcised. So the children believe before they be either circumcised or baptized, according to my first saying of Jacob and Esau, ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.’ These words declare that Jacob had faith in his mother’s womb; also John Baptist was sanctified in his mother’s womb, and therefore it was counted to them for righteousness. And I am sure, if they had died, before they had either received circumcision or baptism as concerning the outward deed, they should have been saved; for God’s gifts and callings are such, that he cannot repent him of them. But, by your saying, he doth both repent and change; for you say, keeping of the outward law is all together. But a bad excuse, is as good as none at all. And whereas you said the children be baptized in their godfathers’ and godmothers’ faith, they being all unbelievers, in what faith is that child baptized then? In none at all, by your own saying.” Which words made him stamp and stare. Langdale: — “What! then you would count that there were very few believers, if there be not one of three, that believeth. You enter into judgment against the people, Belike you think there be none that believe well, unless they be of your mind. Indeed, then Christ’s flock were a very little flock.” Woodman: — “Indeed these be Christ’s words in Luke 12., the which we may see to be very true. Yea, you said, if there were not one amongst three, that were very few. But there is not one amongst three hundred, for any thing that I can see: for if there were, there would not be so many that would seek their neighbors’ goods and lives as there be.” Langdale: Is the flock of Christ such a little flock as you speak of?