The Fires of Smithfield
AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE MARTYRS THAT WITH THEIR LIVES SEALED THEIR TESTIMONY THERE FOR THE PROTESTANT FAITH
ABOUT the third year of King Henry I the hospital of St Bartholomew in Smithfield was founded, by means of a minstrel belonging unto the King, named Rayer, and it was afterwards finished by Richard Whittington, alderman and mayor of London. This place of Smithfield was at that day the place where the felons and other transgressors of the King’s laws were put to execution.
JOHN BADBY, ARTIFICER
In the year of our Lord 1410, on Saturday, being the first day of March, the examination of one John Badby, tailor, was made in a certain house or hall within the precinct of the preaching friars of London, before Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury. Which John Badby did answer, that it was impossible that any priest should make the body of Christ, by words sacramentally spoken.
The archbishop considering that he would in no wise be altered, and seeing, moreover, his countenance stout, and heart confirmed, so that he began to persuade others as it appeared, pronounced the said John Badby an open and public heretic and delivered him to the secular powers.
These things concluded by the bishops in the forenoon, in the afternoon the King’s writ was not far behind. John Badby was brought into Smithfield, and there, being put in an empty barrel, was bound with iron chains fastened to a stake, having dry wood put about him. And as he was thus standing it happened that the Prince, the King’s eldest son, was there present, who, showing some part of the good Samaritan, began to essay how to save his life.
In the mean season the prior of St Bartholomew’s in Smithfield brought, with all solemnity, the sacrament of God’s body, with twelve torches borne before, and so showed the sacrament to the poor man being at the stake. And then they demanding of him how he believed in it, he answered, that he knew well it was hallowed bread, and not God’s body. And then was the fire put unto him. When the innocent soul felt the fire, he cried ‘Mercy!’ calling belike upon the Lord; with which horrible cry the Prince being moved, commanded them to quench the fire. This commandment being done, he asked him if he would forsake heresy, which thing, if he would do, he should have goods enough; promising also unto him a yearly stipend out of the King’s treasury, so much as should suffice for his sustentation.
But this valiant champion of Christ, neglecting the Prince’s fair words, as also contemning all men’s devices, being fully determined rather to suffer any kind of torment, were it never so grievous, than so great idolatry and wickedness, refused the offer. Wherefore the Prince commanded him straight to be put again into the fire. Even so was he nothing at all abashed at their torments, but persevered invincibly to the end.
WILLIAM SWEETING AND JOHN BREWSTER
William Sweeting, and John Brewster were both burned together, the 18th day of October, A.D. 1511.
The chief case alleged against them was their faith concerning the sacrament of Christ’s body and blood. There were other things besides objected, as the reading of certain forbidden books, and accompanying with such persons as were suspected of heresy. But one great and heinous offence counted amongst the rest, was their leaving off the painted faggots, which they were at their first abjuring enjoined to wear as badges during their lives, or so long as it should please their ordinary to appoint.
JOHN STILMAN
John Stilman was charged for speaking against the worshipping, praying, and offering unto images; as also for denying the carnal and corporal presence in the sacrament of Christ’s memorial: and further, for that he had highly commended and praised John Wickliff, affirming that he was a saint in heaven.
He was delivered unto the sheriffs of London, to be openly burned, 1518.
THOMAS MAN
Thomas Man was apprehended for the profession of Christ’s Gospel. He had spoken against auricular confession, and denied the corporal presence of Christ’s body in the sacrament of the altar; he believed that images ought not to be worshipped, and neither believed in the crucifix, nor yet would worship it. For such like matters was he a long time imprisoned, and, at last, through fear of death, was content to abjure and yield himself unto the judgment of the Romish church. Thereupon he was enjoined, not only to make open recantation, but from thenceforth to remain as prisoner within the monastery of Osney beside Oxford, and to bear a faggot before the first cross, at the next general procession within the University. Howbeit not long after, the bishop having need of the poor man’s help in his household business, took him out of the monastery, and placed him within his own house. All which notwithstanding, he fled, seeking abroad in other counties for work, thereby to sustain his poor life; he most commonly abode, sometimes in Essex, sometimes in Suffolk; where also he joined himself unto such godly professors of Christ’s Gospel, as he there could hear of. But within few years after, he was accused of relapse, apprehended and brought before the Bishop of London. But because he would seem to do all things by order of justice, and nothing against law, he therefore appointed unto the said Thomas Man certain doctors and advocates of the Arches, as his counsellors to plead in his behalf. He was condemned as a heretic, and delivered to the sheriff of London sitting on horseback in Paternoster-row, before the bishop’s door (A.D. 1518). The sheriff immediately carried him to Smithfield, and there, the same day in the forenoon, caused him to be ‘put into God’s angel,’ 1518.
John Frith, a young man, had so profited in all kind of learning and knowledge, that there was scarcely his equal amongst his companions. He had such a godliness of life joined with his doctrine, that it was hard to judge in which of them he was more commendable. At last he fell into knowledge and acquaintance with William Tyndale, through whose instructions he first received into his heart the seed of the Gospel and sincere godliness.
At that time Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal of York, prepared to build a college in Oxford, marvellously sumptuous, which had the name and title of Frideswide, but is now named Christ’s-church. This ambitious Cardinal gathered together into that college whatsoever excellent thing there were in the whole realm, either vestments, vessels, or other ornaments, beside provision of all kind of precious things. He also appointed unto that company all such men as were found to excel in any kind of learning and knowledge; among the which was John Frith.
These most picked young men, of grave judgment and sharp wits, conferring together upon the abuses of religion, were therefore accused of heresy, and cast into a prison, within a deep cave under the ground of the same college, where their salt fish was laid; so that, through the filthy stench thereof, they were all infected, and certain of them, being taken out of the prison into their chambers, deceased.
John Frith with others, by the cardinal’s letter, who sent word that he would not have them so straitly handled, were dismissed out of prison, upon condition not to pass above ten miles out of Oxford. Albeit this, his safety continued not long, through the great hatred and deadly pursuit of Sir Thomas More, who, at that time being Chancellor of England, persecuted him both by land and sea, besetting all the ways and havens, yea, and promisng great rewards, if any man could bring him any news or tidings of him.
Thus Frith, being on every part beset with troubles, not knowing which way to turn him, seeketh for some place to hide him in. Thus fleeting from one place to another, and often changing both his garments and place, yet could he be in safety in no place; no not long amongst his friends; so that at last he was taken.
When no reason would prevail against the force and cruelty of these furious foes, he was brought before the Bishops of London, Winchester, and Lincoln, who, sitting in St Paul’s, ministered certain interrogatories upon the sacrament of the supper and purgatory. When Frith by no means could be persuaded to recant, he was condemned by the Bishop of London to be burned. When the faggots were put unto him, he embraced the same; thereby declaring with what uprightness of mind he suffered his death for Christ’s sake, 1533.
ANDREW HEWET BURNED WITH JOHN FRITH
Andrew Hewet, born in Feversham, a young man of the age of four and twenty years, went upon a holy-day into Fleet-street, towards St Dunstan’s. He met with one William Holt, who was foreman with the King’s tailor, and being suspected by the same Holt, who was a dissembling wretch, to be one that favoured the Gospel, after a little talk had with him, he went into an honest house about Fleet-bridge, which was a bookseller’s house. Then Holt, thinking he had found good occasion to show forth some fruit of his wickedness, sent for certain officers, who searched the house, and finding the same Andrew, apprehended him.
Andrew Hewet was brought before the Chancellor of the Bishop of London. When it was demanded of him what he thought as touching the sacrament of the last supper; he answered, ‘Even as John Frith doth.’ Then certain of the bishops smiled at him; and Stokesley, the Bishop of London, said, ‘Why, Frith is a heretic, and already judged to be burned; and except thou revoke thine opinion, thou shalt be burned also with him.’ ‘Truly,’ saith he, ‘I am content therewithal.’ Whereupon he was sent unto the prison to Frith, and afterwards they were carried together to the fire, 1533.
JOHN LAMBERT
This Lambert, being born and brought up in Norfolk, studied in the University of Cambridge. After he had sufficiently profited both in Latin and Greek, and had translated out of both tongues sundry things into the English tongue, being forced at last by violence of the time, he departed beyond the seas, to Tyndale and Frith. There he remained the space of a year and more, being chaplain to the English House at Antwerp, till he was disturbed by Sir Thomas More, and by the accusation of one Barlow carried from Antwerp to England; where he was brought to examination before Warham, the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Within short space after, the archbishop died; whereby it seemeth that Lambert for that time was delivered. He returned unto London, and there exercised himself about the Stocks, in teaching children both in the Greek and Latin tongue.
After that John Lambert had continued in this vocation, with great commendation, and no less commodity to the youth, it happened (1538) that he was present at a sermon in St Peter’s Church at London. He that preached was named Dr Taylor.
When the sermon was done, Lambert went gently unto the preacher to talk with him. All the whole matter or controversy was concerning the sacrament of the body and blood of Christ. But Taylor desiring, as is supposed, of a good mind to satisfy Lambert, took counsel with Dr Barnes; which Barnes seemed not greatly to favour this cause.
Upon these originals Lambert’s quarrel began of a private talk to be a public matter: for he was sent for by Archbishop Cranmer, and forced to defend his cause openly. For the archbishop had not yet favoured the doctrine of the sacrament, whereof afterwards he was an earnest professor. In that disputation, it is said that Lambert did appeal from the bishops to the King’s majesty.
At last the King himself, all in white, did come as judge of that great controversy. On his right hand sat the bishops, and behind them the famous lawyers, clothed all in purple. On the left hand sat the peers of the realm, justices, and other nobles in their order; behind whom sat the gentlemen of the King’s privy chamber. The manner and form of judgment was terrible enough of itself to abash any innocent; the King’s look, his cruel countenance, and his brows bent into severity, did not a little augment this terror; plainly declaring a mind full of indignation. He beheld Lambert with a stern countenance; and then, turning himself unto his councillors, he called forth Dr Sampson, Bishop of Chichester, commanding him to declare unto the people the causes of this present assembly.
When he had made an end of his oration, the King, standing upon his feet, leaning upon a cushion of white cloth of tissue, turning himself toward Lambert with his brows bent, as it were threatening some grievous thing to him, said these words: ‘Ho! good fellow; what is thy name?’
Then the humble lamb of Christ, humbly kneeling down upon his knee, said, ‘My name is John Nicholson, although of many I be called Lambert.’
‘What,’ said the King, ‘have you two names? I would not trust you, having two names, although you were my brother.’
‘O most noble prince!’ replied Lambert, ‘your bishops forced me of necessity to change my name.’
And after much talk had in this manner, the King commanded him to declare what he thought as touching the sacrament of the altar.
Then Lambert, beginning to speak for himself, gave God thanks, Who had so inclined the heart of the King, that he himself would not disdain to hear and understand the controversies of religion.
Then the King with an angry voice, interrupting his oration: ‘I came not hither,’ said he, ‘to hear mine own praises thus painted out in my presence; but briefly go to the matter, without any more circumstance. Answer as touching the sacrament of the altar, whether dost thou say, that it is the body of Christ, or wilt deny it?’ And with that word the King lifted up his cap.
Lambert: ‘I answer, with St Augustine, that it is the body of Christ, after a certain manner.’
The King: ‘Answer me neither out of St Augustine, nor by the authority of any other; but tell me plainly, whether thou sayest it is the body of Christ, or no.’
Lambert: ‘Then I deny it to be the body of Christ.’
The King: ‘Mark well! for now thou shalt be condemned even by Christ’s own words, “This is my body.”’
Then the King commanded Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, to refute his assertion.
It were too long to repeat the arguments of every bishop; and no less superfluous were it so to do, especially forasmuch as they were nothing forcible.
At last, when the day was passed, and torches began to be lighted, the King, minding to break up this disputation, said unto Lambert in this wise: ‘What sayest thou now, after all these great labours which thou hast taken upon thee, and all the reasons and instructions of these learned men? art thou not yet satisfied? Wilt thou live or die? what sayest thou? thou hast yet free choice.’
Lambert answered, ‘I yield and submit myself wholly unto the will of your majesty.’
Then said the King, ‘Commit thyself unto the hands of God, and not unto mine.’
Lambert: ‘I commend my soul unto the hands of God, but my body I wholly yield and submit unto your clemency.’
Then said the King, ‘If you do commit yourself unto my judgment, you must die, for I will not be a patron unto heretics.’ And, turning himself unto Cromwell, he said, ‘Cromwell! read the sentence of condemnation against him.’
Of all other who have been burned at Smithfield, there was yet none so cruelly and piteously handled as this blessed martyr. For, after that his legs were burned up to the stumps, and that the wretched tormentors and enemies of God had withdrawn the fire from him, so that but a small fire were left under him, two that stood on each side of him with their halberts pitched him upon their pikes. Then he, lifting up such hands as he had, and his fingers’ ends flaming with fire, cried unto the people in these words, ‘None but Christ, none but Christ’; and so, being let down again from their halberts, fell into the fire, and there gave up his life, 1538.
STILE.
In the fellowship of these blessed saints and martyrs of Christ who innocently suffered within the time of King Henry’s reign for the testimony of God’s Word and truth, another good man cometh to my mind, not to be excluded out of this number, who was with like cruelty oppressed, and was burned in Smithfield about the latter end of the time of Cuthbert Tonstall, Bishop of London. His name was called Stile, as is credibly reported unto us by a worthy and ancient knight, named Sir Robert Outred, who was the same time present himself at his burning. With him there was burned a book of the Apocalypse, which he was wont to read upon. This book when he saw fastened unto the stake, to be burned with him, lifting up his voice, ‘O blessed Apocalypse,’ said he ‘how happy am I, that shall be burned with thee!’ And so this good man, and the blessed Apocalypse, were both together in the fire consumed, 1539.
ROBERT BARNES, THOMAS GARRET, AND WILLIAM JEROME.
When the valiant standard-bearer and stay of the Church of England, Thomas Cromwell, was made away, pity it was to behold what miserable slaughter of good men and good women ensued. For Winchester, having now gotten free swing to exercise his cruelty, wonder it was to see what troubles he raised in the Lord’s vineyard. He made his first assaults upon Robert Barnes, Thomas Garret, and William Jerome, whom within two days after Cromwell’s death he caused to be put to execution.
Robert Barnes was prior and master of the house of the Augustines, Cambridge. He did read openly in the house Paul’s Epistles; because he would have Christ there taught and His Holy Word, he, in short space, made divers good divines. Thus Barnes, what with his reading, disputation, and preaching, became famous and mighty in the Scriptures. Suddenly was sent down to Cambridge a serjeant-at-arms who arrested Dr Barnes openly in the convocation-house, to make all others afraid. In the morning he was carried to Cardinal Wolsey at Westminster. Then, by reason of Dr Gardiner, secretary to the Cardinal, and Master Foxe, Master of the Wards, he spake the same night to the cardinal in his chamber of estate, kneeling on his knees.
Then said the cardinal to them, ‘Is this Dr Barnes your man that is accused of heresy?’
‘Yea, and please your grace; we trust you shall find him reformable, for he is both well learned and wise.’
‘What! master doctor,’ said the cardinal; ‘had you not a sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my pole-axes, my pillars, my golden cushions, my crosses did so sore offend you, that you must make us ridiculous amongst the people? We were jollily that day laughed to scorn. Verily it was a sermon more fit to be preached on a stage, than in a pulpit; for at the last you said, I wear a pair of red gloves (I should say bloody gloves, quoth you), that I should not be cold in the midst of my ceremonies.’
And Barnes answered, ‘I spake nothing but the truth out of the Scriptures, according to my conscience, and according to the old doctors.’ And then did Barnes deliver him six sheets of paper written, to confirm his sayings.
The cardinal received them smiling on him, and saying, ‘We perceive then that you intend to stand to your articles, and to show your learning.’
‘Yea,’ said Barnes, ‘that I do intend, by God’s grace, with your lordship’s favour.’
The cardinal answered, ‘Such as you are do bear us and the catholic church little favour. I will ask you a question: “Whether do you think it more necessary that I should have all this royalty, because I represent the King’s majesty’s person in all the high courts of this realm, to the terror and keeping down of all the wicked and corrupt members of this commonwealth; or to be as simple as you would have us? to sell all these things, and give them to the poor, who shortly will cast it against the walls? and to pull away this majesty of a princely dignity, which is a terror to all the wicked, and to follow your counsel in this behalf?”’
Barnes answered, ‘I think it necessary to be sold and given to the poor. For this is not comely for your calling.’
Then answered the cardinal, ‘Lo, Master Doctors! here is the learned wise man, that you told me of.’
Then they kneeled down and said, ‘We desire your grace to be good unto him, for he will be reformable.’
Then said the cardinal, ‘Stand you up! for your sakes, and the University, we will be good unto him. How say you, Master Doctor; do you not know that I am able to dispense in all matters concerning religion within this realm, as much as the Pope may?’
He said, ‘I know it to be so.’
‘Will you then be ruled by us, and we will do all things for your honesty, and for the honesty of the University.’
Barnes answered, ‘I thank your grace for your good will; I will stick to the holy Scripture, and to God’s Book, according to the simple talent that God hath lent me.’
‘Well,’ said the cardinal, ‘thou shalt have thy learning tried to the uttermost, and thou shalt have the law.’
After Barnes had continued in the Fleet the space of half a year, at length being delivered, he was committed to be a free prisoner at the Austin Friars in London; whence he was removed to Northampton, there to be burned. One Master Home, having intelligence of the writ which should shortly be sent down to burn him, gave him counsel to feign himself to be desperate; and that he should write a letter to the cardinal, and leave it on his table, to declare whither he was gone to drown himself; and to leave his clothes in the same place; and another letter to the mayor of the town, to search for him in the water, because he had a letter written in parchment about his neck, closed in wax, for the cardinal, which should teach all men to beware by him. Upon this, they were seven days in searching for him, but he was conveyed to London in poor man’s apparel; took shipping to Antwerp, and so to Luther.
The said Dr Barnes returned in the beginning of the reign of Queen Anne, as others did, and continued a faithful preacher, being all her time well entertained and promoted. After that, he was sent ambassador by King Henry VIII. to the Duke of Cleves, for the marriage of the Lady Anne of Cleves between the King and her, and well accepted in the ambassade, and in all his doings until the time that Stephen Gardiner came out of France.
Not long after, Dr Barnes, with his brethren, were apprehended and carried before the King’s majesty to Hampton Court, and examined. The King with many high words rebuked his doings in his privy closet. Unto whom when Barnes had submitted himself, ‘Nay,’ said the King, ‘yield thee not to me; I am a mortal man;’ and therewith rising up and turning to the sacrament, and putting off his bonnet, said, ‘Yonder is the Master of us all, Author of truth; yield in truth to Him and the truth will I defend; and otherwise yield not unto me.’ The King, seeking the means of his safety, at Winchester’s request granted him leave to go home with the bishop, to confer with him. But, as it happened, they not agreeing, Gardiner sought, by all subtle means, how to entrap Barnes and his brethren. They were enjoined to preach three sermons the next Easter following; at which sermons Stephen Gardiner was present, either to bear record of their recantation, or trip them in their talk. Shortly after they were sent for to Hampton Court; from thence they were carried to the Tower, and never came out till they came to their death.
Now let us consider the story of Thomas Garret.
In the year of our Lord 1526, or thereabout, Master Garret, curate of Honey-lane in London, came unto Oxford, and brought with him Tyndale’s first translation of the New Testament in English, the which he sold to divers scholars. News came from London that he was searched for as an heretic, and so he was apprehended and committed to ward. Afterwards he was compelled to carry a faggot in open procession from St Mary’s church to Friswide’s, and then sent to Osney, there to be kept in prison till further order was taken.
The third companion who suffered with Barnes and Garret, was William Jerome, vicar of Stepney. He was charged before the King at Westminster for erroneous doctrine.
One Dr Wilson entered into disputation with him, and defended, that good works justified before God. To whom Jerome answered, that all works, whatsoever they were, were nothing worth, nor any part of salvation of themselves, but only referred to the mercy and love of God, which direct the workers thereof.
Thus then Barnes, Jerome, and Garret, being committed to the Tower after Easter, there remained till the thirtieth day of July, which was two days after the death of the Lord Cromwell. Then ensued process against them. Whereupon all those three good saints of God were brought together from the Tower to Smithfield, where they, preparing themselves to the fire, had there at the stake sundry exhortations.
‘Take me not here,’ said Dr Barnes, ‘that I speak against good works, for they are to be done; and verily they that do them not shall never come into the Kingdom of God. We must do them, because they are commanded us of God, to show and set forth our profession, not to deserve or merit; for that is only the death of Christ.’
One asked him his opinion of praying to saints. Then said Dr Barnes: ‘Throughout all Scripture we are not commanded to pray to any saints. Therefore I cannot preach to you that saints ought to be prayed unto; for then should I preach unto you a doctrine of mine own head. If saints do pray for us, then I trust to pray for you within this half hour, Master Sheriff.’
Then desired Dr Barnes all men to bear him witness that he abhorred all doctrines against the Word of God, and that he died in the faith of Jesu Christ. The like confession made also Jerome and Garret. They, taking themselves by the hands, and kissing one another, quietly and humbly offered themselves to the hands of the tormentors; and so took their death with such patience as might well testify the goodness of their cause, and quiet of their conscience.—1540.
MISTRESS ANNE ASKEW, DAUGHTER OF SIR WILLIAM ASKEW, KNIGHT OF LINCOLNSHIRE
Here follow the examinations of Anne Askew, according as she wrote them with her own hand, at the instant desire of certain faithful men and women.
The First Examinaton before the Inquisitors, A.D. 1545.
Christopher Dare examined me at Sadler’s Hall, and asked me, wherefore I said, I had rather to read five lines in the Bible, than to hear five masses in the temple. I confessed that I said no less; not for the dispraise of either the epistle or the Gospel, but because the one did greatly edify me, and the other nothing at all. He laid unto my charge, that I should say, If an ill priest ministered, it was the devil and not God. My answer was, that I never spake any such thing. But this was my saying: that whosoever he were that ministered unto me, his ill conditions could not hurt my faith, but in spirit I received, nevertheless, the body and blood of Christ. He asked me what I said concerning confession. I answered him my meaning, which was, as St James saith, that every man ought to acknowledge his faults to other, and the one to pray for the other. Then he sent for a priest who asked me, if I did not think that private masses did help the souls departed. I said, it was great idolatry to believe more in them, than in the death which Christ died for us.
Then they had me unto my Lord Mayor, who laid one thing to my charge, which was never spoken of me, but by them; whether a mouse, eating the host, received God or no? I made them no answer, but smiled.
Then the bishop’s chancellor rebuked me, and said that I was much to blame for uttering the Scriptures. For St Paul, he said, forbade women to speak or to talk of the Word of God. I answered him that I knew Paul’s meaning as well as he, which is, in 1 Cor. xiv., that a woman ought not to speak in the congregation by the way of teaching: and then I asked him how many women he had seen go into the pulpit and preach? He said he never saw any. Then I said, he ought to find no fault in poor women, except they had offended the law.
Then was I had to the Compter, and there remained eleven days, no friend admitted to speak with me.
The sum of my Examination before the King’s Council at Greenwich.
They said it was the King’s pleasure that I should open the matter unto them. I answered them plainly, I would not so do; but if it were the King’s pleasure to hear me, I would show him the truth. They said, it was not meet for the King to be troubled with me. I answered, that Solomon was reckoned the wisest King that ever lived, yet misliked he not to hear two poor common women, much more his grace a simple woman and his faithful subject.
Then my Lord Chancellor asked my opinion in the sacrament. My answer was this, ‘I believe that so oft as I, in a Christian congregation, do receive the bread in remembrance of Christ’s death, and with thanksgiving, according to His holy institution, I receive therewith the fruits, also, of His most glorious passion. The Bishop of Winchester bade me make a direct answer; I said, I would not sing a new song of the Lord in a strange land. Then the bishop said, I spake in parables. I answered, it was best for him, ‘for if I show the open truth,’ quoth I, ‘ye will not accept it.’ I told him I was ready to suffer all things at his hands, not only his rebukes, but all that should follow besides, yea, and all that gladly.
My Lord Lisle, my Lord of Essex, and the Bishop of Winchester required me earnestly that I should confess the sacrament to be flesh, blood, and bone. Then, said I, that it was a great shame for them to counsel contrary to their knowledge.
Then the bishop said he would speak with me familiarly. I said, ‘So did Judas, when he betrayed Christ.’ Then desired the bishop to speak with me alone. But that I refused. He asked me, why. I said, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every matter should stand.
Then the bishop said I should be burned. I answered, that I had searched all the Scriptures, yet could I never find that either Christ, or His apostles, put any creature to death. ‘Well, well,’ said I, ‘God will laugh your threatenings to scorn.’
Then was I sent to Newgate.
My Handling since my Departure from Newgate.
I was sent from Newgate to the sign of the Crown, where Master Rich, and the Bishop of London, with all their power and flattering words went about to persuade me from God: but I did not esteem their glosing pretences.
Then came there to me Nicholas Shaxton, and counselled me to recant as he had done. I said to him, that it had been good for him never to have been born.
Then Master Rich sent me to the Tower, where I remained till three o’clock.
Then came Rich and one of the council, charging me upon my obedience, to show unto them, if I knew any manor woman of my sect. My answer was, that I knew none. Then said they unto me, that the King was informed that I could name, if I would, a great number of my sect. I answered, that the King was as well deceived in that behalf, as dissembled with in other matters.
Then commanded they me to show how I was maintained in the Compter, and who willed me to stick to my opinion. I said, that there was no creature that therein did strengthen me: and as for the help that I had in the Compter, it was by means of my maid. For as she went abroad in the streets, she made moan to the prentices, and they, by her, did send me money; but who they were I never knew.
They said that there were divers gentlewomen that gave me money: but I knew not their names. Then they said that there were divers ladies that had sent me money. I answered, that there was a man in a blue coat who delivered me ten shillings, and said that my Lady of Hertford sent it me; and another in a violet coat gave me eight shillings, and said my Lady Denny sent it me: whether it were true or no, I cannot tell.
Then they did put me on the rack, because I confessed no ladies or gentlewomen to be of my opinion, and thereon they kept me a long time; and because I lay still, and did not cry, my Lord Chancellor and Master Rich took pains to rack me with their own hands, till I was nigh dead.
Then the Lieutenant caused me to be loosed from the rack. Incontinently I swooned, and then they recovered me again. After that I sat two long hours reasoning with my Lord Chancellor upon the bare floor; where he, with many flattering words, persuaded me to leave my opinion. But my Lord God (I thank His everlasting goodness) gave me grace to persevere, and will do, I hope, to the end.
Then was I brought to a house, and laid in a bed, with as weary and painful bones as ever had patient Job; I thank my Lord God therefor. Then my Lord Chancellor sent me word, if I would leave my opinion, I should want nothing; if I would not, I should forthwith to Newgate, and so be burned. I sent him again word, that I would rather die than break my faith.
The day of her execution being appointed, this good woman was brought into Smithfield in a chair, because she could not go on her feet, by means of her great torments. When she was brought unto the stake, she was tied with a chain, that held up her body. The multitude of the people was exceeding; the place where they stood being railed about to keep out the press. Upon the bench under St Bartholomew’s Church sat Wriothesley, Chancellor of England; the old Duke of Norfolk, the old Earl of Bedford, the Lord Mayor, with divers others. Before the fire should be set unto them, one of the bench, hearing that they had gunpowder about them, and being alarmed lest the faggots, by strength of the gunpowder, would come flying about their ears, began to be afraid: but the Earl of Bedford declared unto him how the gunpowder was not laid under the faggots, but only about their bodies, to rid them out of their pains.
Then Wriothesley, Lord Chancellor, offered Anne Askew the King’s pardon if she would recant; who made this answer, that she came not thither to deny her Lord and Master. And thus the good Anne Askew, being compassed in with flames of fire, as a blessed sacrifice unto God, slept in the Lord A.D. 1546, leaving behind her a singular example of Christian constancy for all men to follow.
JOHN LACELS, JOHN ADAMS, AND NICHOLAS BELENIAN
There was, at the same time, burned with her, one Nicholas Belenian, priest of Shropshire; John Adams, a tailor; and John Lacels, gentleman of the court and household of King Henry. It happened well for them, that they died together with Anne Askew: for, albeit that of themselves they were strong and stout men, yet, through the example and exhortation of her, they, being the more boldened, received occasion of greater comfort in that so painful and doleful kind of death: who, beholding her invincible constancy, and also stirred up through her persuasions, did set apart all kind of fear.
MASTER JOHN BRADFORD
John Bradford was born at Manchester in Lancashire. His parents did bring him up in learning from his infancy, until he attained such knowledge in the Latin tongue, and skill in writing, that he was able to gain his own living in some honest condition. Then he became servant to Sir John Harrington, knight, who, in the great affairs of King Henry the Eighth, and King Edward the Sixth, when he was treasurer of the King’s camps and buildings, had such experience of Bradford’s activity, expertness, and faithful trustiness, that above all others he used his service.
But the Lord had elected him unto a better function, to preach the Gospel of Christ. Then did Bradford forsake his worldly affairs and forwardness in worldly wealth, and give himself wholly to the study of the Scriptures. To accomplish his purpose the better, he departed from the Temple at London, where the temporal law is studied, and went to the University of Cambridge, to learn by God’s law how to further the building of the Lord’s temple. Within one whole year the University did give him the degree of a Master of Arts, and immediately after, the Master and Fellows of Pembroke Hall did give him a fellowship; yea that man of God, Martin Bucer, oftentimes exhorted him to bestow his talent in preaching. Unto which Bradford answered always, that he was unable to serve in that office through want of learning. To the which Bucer was wont to reply, saying, ‘If thou have not fine manchet bread, yet give the poor people barley bread, or whatsoever else the Lord hath committed unto thee.’ And while Bradford was thus persuaded to enter into the ministry, Dr Ridley, Bishop of London, called him to take the degree of a deacon, obtained for him a license to preach, and did give him a prebend in his cathedral church of St Paul’s.
In this preaching office by the space of three years, how faithfully Bradford walked, how diligently he laboured, many parts of England can testify. Sharply he opened and reproved sin, sweetly he preached Christ crucified, pithily he impugned heresies and errors, earnestly he persuaded to godly life. When Queen Mary had gotten the crown, still continued Bradford diligent in preaching, until he was unjustly deprived both of his office and liberty by the Queen and her council.
The fact was this: the 13th of August, in the first year of the reign of Queen Mary, Master Bourn, then Bishop of Bath, made a sermon at Paul’s Cross, to set popery abroad, in such sort that it moved the people to no small indignation, being almost ready to pull him out of the pulpit. Neither could the reverence of the place, nor the presence of Bishop Bonner, who then was his master, nor yet the commandment of the Lord Mayor of London, whom the people ought to have obeyed, stay their rage; but the more they spake, the more the people were incensed. At length Bourn, seeing the people in such a mood, and himself in such peril (whereof he was sufficiently warned by the hurling of a drawn dagger at him), desired Bradford, who stood in the pulpit behind him, to come forth, and to stand in his place and speak to the people. Good Bradford, at his request, was content, and spake to the people of godly and quiet obedience: whom as soon as the people saw, they cried with a great shout,—‘Bradford, Bradford; God save thy life, Bradford!’ Eftsoons all the raging ceased, and quietly departed each man to his house. Bourn desired Bradford not to go from him till he were in safety: which Bradford, according to his promise, performed. For while the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs did lead Bourn to the schoolmaster’s house, which is next to the pulpit, Bradford went at his back, shadowing him from the people with his gown.
The same Sunday in the afternoon, Bradford preached at the Bow Church in Cheapside, and reproved the people sharply for their seditious misdemeanour. Within three days, he was sent for to the Tower of London, where the Queen then was, to appear before the council. From the Tower he came to the King’s Bench in Southwark: and after his condemnation, he was sent to the Compter in the Poultry in London: in which two places, for the time he did remain prisoner, he preached twice a day continually, unless sickness hindered him: such resort of good folks was daily to his lecture, that commonly his chamber was well nigh filled. Preaching, reading, and praying was his whole life. He did not eat above one meal a day; which was but very little when he took it; and his continual study was upon his knees. In the midst of dinner he used often to muse with himself, having his hat over his eyes, from whence came commonly plenty of tears dropping on his trencher. Very gentle he was to man and child.
Of personage he was somewhat tall and slender, spare of body, of a faint sanguine colour, with an auburn beard. He slept not commonly above four hours in the night; and in his bed, till sleep came, his book went not out of his hand. His chief recreation was in honest company, and comely talk, wherein he would spend a little time after dinner at the board; and so to prayer and his book again. He counted that hour not well spent, wherein he did not some good, either with his pen, study, or in exhorting of others. He was no niggard of his purse, but would liberally participate that he had, to his fellow-prisoners. And commonly once a week he visited the thieves, pick-purses, and such others that were with him in prison, unto whom he would give godly exhortation, and distribute among them some portion of money to their comfort. Neither was there ever any prisoner with him but by his company he greatly profited.
Walking in the keeper’s chamber, suddenly the keeper’s wife came up, as one half amazed, and seeming much troubled, being almost windless, said, ‘O Master Bradford, I come to bring you heavy news.’ ‘What is that?’ said he. ‘Marry,’ quoth she, ‘to-morrow you must be burned; and your chain is now a buying, and soon you must go to Newgate.’ With that Master Bradford put off his cap, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, said, ‘I thank God for it; I have looked for the same a long time, and therefore it cometh not now to me suddenly, but as a thing waited for every day and hour; the Lord make me worthy thereof!’
They carried him to Newgate, about eleven or twelve o’clock in the night, when it was thought none would be stirring abroad: and yet, was there in Cheapside and other places (between the Compter and Newgate), a great multitude of people that came to see him, which most gently bade him farewell, praying for him with most lamentable and pitiful tears; and he again as gently bade them farewell, praying most heartily for them and their welfare. The next day at four a clock in the morning, there was in Smithfield a multitude of men and women; but it was nine a clock before Master Bradford was brought into Smithfield, with a great company of weaponed men, as the like was not seen at any man’s burning. Bradford, being come to the place, fell flat to the ground, making his prayers to Almighty God. Then rising he went to the stake, and there suffered with a young man of twenty years of age, joyfully and constantly, whose name was John Leaf.
JOHN LEAF
John Leaf was an apprentice to Humfrey Gawdy, tallow-chandler, of the parish of Christ-Church in London, of the age of nineteen years and above. It is reported of him that two bills were sent unto him in the Compter in Bread Street, the one containing a recantation, the other his confessions, to know to which of them he would put his hand. The bill of recantation he refused. The other he well liked of, and instead of a pen he took a pin, and pricking his hand, sprinkled the blood upon the said bill, willing to show the bishop, that he had sealed it with his blood already.
When these two came to the stake Master Bradford took a faggot in his hand, and kissed it, and so likewise the stake. Holding up his hands, and casting his countenance up to heaven, he said, ‘O England, England, repent thee of thy sins, repent thee of thy sins.’ Turning his head unto the young man that suffered with him, he said, ‘Be of good comfort, brother; for we shall have a merry supper with the Lord this night.’ And thus they ended their mortal lives, without any alteration of their countenance, being void of all fear. 1535.
MASTER JOHN PHILPOT
Master John Philpot was a knight’s son, born in Hampshire, brought up in the New College, Oxford. He was made Archdeacon of Winchester, and during the time of King Edward, continued to no small profit of those parts. When that King was taken away, and Mary his sister came in place, she caused a convocation of the prelates and learned men to be congregated to the accomplishment of her desire. In the which convocation Master Philpot sustained the cause of the Gospel manfully against the mass; for the which cause, he was called to account before Bishop Gardiner, and from thence was removed to Bonner and other commissioners, with whom he had sundry conflicts.
In the end the bishop, seeing his unmovable stedfastness in the truth, did pronounce the sentence of condemnation against him. ‘I thank God’, said Master Philpot, ‘that I am a heretic out of your cursed church; I am no heretic before God. But God bless you, and give you grace to repent your wicked doings, and let all men beware of your bloody church.’
And so the officers delivered him to the keeper of Newgate. Then his man thrust to go in after his master, and one of the officers said unto him, ‘Hence, fellow! what wouldst thou have?’ And he said, ‘I would go speak with my master.’ Master Philpot turned him about, and said to him, ‘To-morrow thou shalt speak with me.’ Then the under-keeper said to Master Philpot, ‘Is this your man?’ and he said, ‘Yea.’ So he did license his man to go in with him; and Master Philpot and his man were turned into a little chamber on the right hand, and there remained a little time, until Alexander the chief keeper did come unto him; who, at his entering, greeted him with these words; ‘Ah!’ said he, ‘hast not thou done well to bring thyself hither?’
‘Well,’ said Master Philpot, ‘I must be content, for it is God’s appointment: and I shall desire you to let me have your gentle favour; for you and I have been of old acquaintance.’
‘Well,’ said Alexander, ‘I will show thee gentleness and favour, so thou wilt be ruled by me.’
Then said Master Philpot, ‘I pray you show me what you would have me to do.’
He said, ‘If you would recant, I will show you any pleasure I can.’
‘Nay,’ said Master Philpot, ‘I will never recant, whilst I have my life, that which I have spoken, for it is most certain truth; and in witness hereof I will seal it with my blood.’
Then Alexander said, ‘This is the saying of the whole pack of you heretics.’ Whereupon he commanded him to be set upon the block, and as many irons upon his legs as he could bear.
‘Good master Alexander, be so much my friend, that these irons may be taken off.’
‘Well,’ said Alexander, ‘give me my fees, and I will take them off: if not, thou shalt wear them still.’ Then said Master Philpot, ‘Sir, what is your fee?’ He said four pound was his fees.
‘Ah,’ said Master Philpot, ‘I have not so much; I am but a poor man, and I have been long in prison.’
‘What wilt thou give me then?’ said Alexander.
‘Sir,’ said he, ‘I will give you twenty shillings, and that I will send my man for; or else I will my gown to gage.’
And with that Alexander departed from him, and commanded him to be had into limbo.
Then one Witterence, steward of the house, took Master Philpot on his back, and carried him down, his man knew not whither. Wherefore Master Philpot said to his man, ‘Go to master sheriff, and show him how I am used, and desire master sheriff to be good unto me.’ And so his servant went straightway, and took an honest man with him.
The sheriff took his ring off from his finger, and delivered it unto that honest man which came with Master Philpot’s man, and bade him go unto Alexander, and command him to take off his irons, and to handle him more gently. And when they came to the said Alexander, and told their message from the sheriff, Alexander took the ring, and said, ‘Ah! I perceive master sheriff is a bearer with him, and all such heretics as he is: therefore to-morrow I will show it to his betters.’ Yet at ten of the clock he went in to Master Philpot, and took off his irons.
Upon Tuesday at supper, being the 17th day of December 1555, there came a messenger from the sheriffs, and bade Master Philpot make him ready, for the next day he should suffer. Master Philpot answered, “I am ready; God grant me strength, and a joyful resurrection.’ And so he went into his chamber, and poured out his spirit unto the Lord God, giving Him most hearty thanks, that He of His mercy had made him worthy to suffer for His truth.
In the morning the sheriffs came, about eight of the clock, and he most joyfully came down unto them. And there his man did meet him, and said, ‘Ah! dear master, farewell.’ His master said unto him, ‘Serve God, and He will help thee.’ When he was entering into Smithfield, the way was foul, and two officers took him up to bear him to the stake. Then he said merrily, ‘What! will ye make me a Pope? I am content to go to my journey’s end on foot.’
When he was come to the place of suffering, he said, ‘Shall I disdain to suffer at this stake, seeing my Redeemer did not refuse to suffer a most vile death upon the cross for me?’ And when he had made an end of his prayers, he said to the officers, ‘What have you done for me?’ and every one of them declared what they had done; and he gave to every of them money. Then in the midst of the fiery flames he yielded his soul into the hands of Almighty God.
SEVEN MARTYRS SUFFERING TOGETHER
About the 27th day of January in anno 1556, were burned these seven persons: Thomas Whittle, priest; Bartlet Green, gentleman; John Tudson, artificer; John Went, artificer; Thomas Browne; Isabel Foster, wife; Joan Warne, alais Lashford, maid.
What an evil mess of handling Whittle had, and how he was by Bishop Bonner beaten and buffeted about the face, by this his own narration sent unto his friend, manifestly may appear:—
‘The bishop sent for me, out of the porter’s lodge, where I had been all night, lying upon the earth, upon a pallet, where I had as painful a night of sickness as ever I had. And when I came before him, he asked me if I would have come to mass that morning, if he had sent for me. Whereunto I answered, that I would have come to him at his commandment, “but to your mass,” said I, “I have small affection.” At which answer he was displeased sore, and said I should be fed with bread and water. And as I followed him through the great hall, he turned back and beat me with his fist, first on the one cheek, and then on the other. And then he led me into a little salt-house, where I had no straw nor bed, but lay two nights on a table, and slept soundly, I thank God.’
Whittle, strengthened with the grace of the Lord, stood strong and immovable. Wherefore he was brought to the fire with the other six.
Master Bartlet Green was of a good house, and was sent unto the University of Oxford. By his often repairing unto the lectures of Peter Martyr he saw the true light of Christ’s Gospel.
As he was going to Newgate there met with him two gentlemen, being his special friends, minding to comfort their persecuted brother: but their loving and friendly hearts were manifested by the abundance of their pitiful tears. To whom Green said, ‘Ah, my friends! is this your comfort you are come to give me, in this my occasion of heaviness? Must I, who needed to have comfort ministered to me, become now a comforter of you?’
When he was scourged with rods by Bishop Bonner he greatly rejoiced, yet his shamefaced modesty was such, that never would he express any mention therof, lest he should seem to glory in himself, save that only he opened the same to one Master Cotton of the Temple, a friend of his, a little before his death.
He was first apprehended, but last of them condemned, which was the 15th day of January, and afterward burned with the other six martyrs, the 27th of January, 1556.
Thomas Brown dwelled in the parish of St Bride’s in Fleet Street, and because he came not to his parish church, was presented by the constable of the parish to Bonner. Being had to Fulham he was required to come into the chapel to hear mass, which, refusing to do, he went into the warren, and there kneeled among the trees. For this he was greatly charged of the bishop, ‘Brown, ye have been before me many times and oft, and I have travailed with thee, to win thee from thine errors; yet thou, and such like, do report, that I go about to seek thy blood.’ To whom the said Thomas Brown answered again; ‘Yea, my lord,’ saith he, ‘indeed ye be a bloodsucker, and I would I had as much blood as is water in the sea, for you to suck.’
And so he was committed to be burned.
Joan Lashford, was the daughter of one Robert Lashford, cutler, who was persecuted for the Gospel of God to the burning fire; and after him his wife; and after her, this Joan Lashwood, her daughter; who, about the age of twenty years, ministering to her father and mother in prison, was known to be of the same doctrine. Her confession was that she came unto no popish mass service in the church, neither would be confessed.
FIVE OTHER GODLY MARTYRS BURNED AT ONE FIRE
In this story of persecuted martyrs, next in order follow five others burned in the year of the Lord 1557, April the 12th: Thomas Loseby, Henry Ramsey, Thomas Thirtel, Margaret Hide, and Agnes Stanley: who were apprehended for not coming to their parish churches.
Thomas Thirtel answered unto Bishop Bonner, ‘My Lord, if you make me a heretic, you make Christ and all the twelve apostles heretics.’
Margaret Hide said, ‘My lord, 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.’
Agnes Stanley made this answer: ‘My Lord, 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.’
Altogether in one fire most joyfully and constantly these five martyrs ended their temporal lives, receiving there-for the life eternal.
JOHN HALLINGDALE, WILLIAM SPARROW, AND RICHARD GIBSON
These three faithful witnesses of the Lord’s testament were tormented and put to death, 18 th of November 1557.
John Hallingdale said that Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley, Hooper, and generally all that of late had been burnt for heretics, were no heretics at all, because they did preach truly the Gospel: upon whose preaching he grounded his faith and conscience. William Sparrow answered Bishop Bonner, ‘that if every hair of my head were a man, I would burn them all, rather than go from the truth.’
THE MARTYRS OF THE ISLINGTON FIELDS
Secretly, in a back close, in the field by the town of Islington, were assembled together a certain company of godly and innocent persons, to the number of forty, men and women, who there virtuously occupied in prayer and in the meditation of God’s holy Word. Cometh a certain man to them unknown; who, saluted them, saying, that they looked like men that meant no hurt. One of the company asked the man, if he could tell whose close that was, and whether they might be so bold there to sit. ‘Yea,’ said he, ‘for that ye seem unto me such persons as intend no harm,’ and so departed.
Within a quarter of an hour cometh the constable of Islington with six or seven other, one with a bow, another with a bill, and others with weapons; the which six or seven persons the said constable left a little behind him in a close place, there to be ready if need should be, while he, came through them. Looking what they were doing, he bade them deliver their books. They, understanding that he was constable, refused not so to do. With that cometh forth the residue of his fellows who bade them stand, and not depart. They answered that they would be obedient and go whithersoever they would have them; and so were they first carried to a brewhouse but a little way off, while that some of the said soldiers ran to the justice next at hand. But the justice was not at home; whereupon they were had to Sir Roger Cholmley. In the mean time some of the women escaped. In fine, were sent to Newgate twenty-and-two. These were in prison seven weeks before they were examined. Of these foresaid two-and-twenty, were burnt thirteen; in Smithfield seven, at Brentford six.
The names of these seven were Henry Pond, Reinald Eastland, Robert Southam, Matthew Ricarby, John Floyd, John Holiday, Roger Holland; only the examination of Roger Holland came to our hand.
This Roger Holland, a merchant-tailor of London, was first an apprentice with one Master Kempton, at the Black Boy in Watling Street, giving himself to dancing, fencing, gaming, banqueting, and wanton company. He had received for his master certain money, to the sum of thirty pounds; and lost every groat at dice. Therefore he purposed to convey himself away beyond the seas, either into France or into Flanders.
He called betimes in the morning to a servant in the house, a discreet maid, whose name was Elizabeth, which professed the Gospel, with a life agreeing unto the same. To whom he said, ‘Elizabeth, I would I had followed thy gentle persuasions and friendly rebukes; which if I had done, I had never come to this shame and misery which I am now fallen into; for I have lost thirty pounds of my master’s money, which to pay him, and to make up mine accounts, I am not able. But I pray you, desire my mistress, that she would entreat my master to take this bill of my hand, and if I be ever able, I will see him paid: desiring him that the matter may pass with silence, for if it should come unto my father’s ears, it would bring his grey hairs oversoon unto his grave.’ And so was he departing.
The maid considering that it might be his utter undoing, ‘Stay,’ said she; and having a piece of money lying by her, given unto her by the death of a kinsman, she brought unto him thirty pounds, saying, ‘Roger, here is thus much money; I will let thee have it, and I will keep this bill. But thou shalt promise me to refuse all wild company, all swearing and ribaldry talk; and if ever I know thee to play one twelvepence at either dice or cards, then will I show this thy bill unto my master. And futhermore, thou shalt promise me to resort every day to the lecture at All-hallows, and the sermon at Paul’s every Sunday, and to cast away all thy books of papistry and vain ballads, and get thee the Testament and Book of Service, and read the Scriptures with reverence and fear, calling unto God still, for His grace to direct thee in His truth. And pray unto God fervently, desiring Him to pardon thy former offences, and not to remember the sins of thy youth; and ever be afraid to break His laws, or offend His majesty. Then shall God keep thee, and send thee thy heart’s desire.’
Within one half year God had wrought such a change in this man, that he was become an earnest professor of the truth. Then he repaired into Lancashire unto his father, and brought divers good books with him, and bestowed them upon his friends, so that his father and others began to taste of the Gospel, and to detest the mass, idolatry, and superstition; and in the end his father gave him a stock of money to begin the world withal, to the sum of fifty pounds.
Then Roger repaired to London again, and came to the maid that lent him the money to pay his master withal, and said unto her, ‘Elizabeth, here is thy money I borrowed of thee; and for the friendship, good will, and the good connsel I have received at thy hands, to recompense thee I am not able, otherwise than to make thee my wife.’ And soon after they were married, which was in the first year of Queen Mary.
After this he remained in the congregations of the faithful, until, the last year of Queen Mary, he, with the six others aforesaid, were taken.
And after Roger Holland there was none suffered in Smithfield for the testimony of the Gospel, God be thanked.