The Story, Life, and Martyrdom of Master John Hooper, Bishop of Worcester and
Gloucester John Hooper, student and graduate in the University of Oxford,
after the study of the sciences wherein he had abundantly profited through God's
secret vocation, was stirred with fervent desire to the love and knowledge of the
Scriptures.
In the reading and searching whereof, as there lacked in him no diligence,
joined with earnest prayer, so neither wanted unto him the grace of the Holy
Ghost to satisfy his desire and to open unto him the light of true divinity.
Thus Master Hooper, growing more and more by God's grace in ripeness of spiritual
understanding, and showing withal some sparkles of his fervent spirit,
fell, effsoons, into displeasure and hatred of certain rabbins in Oxford,
who began to stir coals against him, whereby, and especially by the procurement
of Dr. Smith, he was compelled to avoid the university, and removing from thence,
was retained in the house of Sir Thomas Arundel.
And there was his steward, until the time that Sir Thomas Arundel, having
intelligence of his opinions and religion, which he in no case did favour,
and yet exceedingly favouring the person of the man, found the means to send him in
a message to the Bishop of Winchester, writing his letter privily to the Bishop
by conference of learning to do some good upon him, but in any case requiring him to
send home his servant to him again.
Winchester, after conference with Master Hooper four or five days together,
when he perceived that neither he could do that good which he thought to him,
nor that he would take any good at his hand, according to Master Arundel's
request, sent home his servant again, right well commending his learning and
wit, but yet bearing in his breast a grudging stomach against Master Hooper
still.
It followed not long after this, as malice is always working mischief,
that intelligence was given to Master Hooper to provide for himself for danger
that was working against him, whereupon Master Hooper, leaving Master Arundel's
house and borrowing a horse of a certain friend, whose life he had saved a little
before from the gallows, took his journey to the seaside to go to France,
sending back the horse again.
Master Hooper, being at Paris, tarried there not long, but in short time
returned into England and was retained of Master Sentlow till the time that he was
again molested, whereby he was compelled, under the pretense of being captain of a
ship going to Ireland, to take the seas.
And so escaped he, although not without extreme peril of drowning, through France
to the higher parts of Germany, where he, entering acquaintance with the
learned men, was of them friendly and lovingly entertained at Basel,
and especially at Zurich, of Master Bullinger being his singular friend.
There also he married his wife, who was a Burgonian, and applied very
studiously to the Hebrew tongue.
When God saw good to give us King Edward to reign over this realm, with some peace
and rest unto His gospel, amongst many other English exiles who repaired
homeward, Master Hooper also moved in conscience, though not to absent himself,
but seeing such a time and occasion, offered to help forward the Lord's work to
the uttermost of his ability.
And so, coming to Master Bullinger and other of his acquaintance, as duty
required, to give them thanks for their singular kindness and humanity toward him
manifold ways declared, with like humanity purposed to take his leave of them.
Unto whom Master Bullinger spake on this wise.
Master Hooper, said he, although we are sorry to part with your company for our
own cause, yet much greater causes we have to rejoice, both for your sake,
and especially for the cause of Christ's true religion, that you shall now return,
out of long banishment, into your native country again, where not only you may
enjoy your own private liberty, but also the cause and state of Christ's
church by you may fare the better, as we doubt not, but it shall.
Another cause, moreover, why we rejoice with you and for you, is this,
that you shall remove not only out of exile into liberty, but you shall leave
here a barren and an unpleasant country, rude and savage, and shall go into a land
flowing with milk and honey, replenished with all pleasure and fertility.
Notwithstanding, with this our rejoicing, one fear and care we have, lest you,
being absent and so far distant from us, or else coming to such abundance of wealth
and felicity in your new welfare and plenty of all things, and in your
flourishing honors, where ye shall come, peradventure, to be a bishop, and where ye
shall find so many new friends, you will forget us, your old acquaintance
and well-willers.
Nevertheless, howsoever you shall forget and shake us off, yet this persuade
yourself, that we will not forget our old friend and fellow, Master Hooper.
And if you please not to forget us again, then I pray you let us hear from you."
Whereunto Master Hooper answered again that neither the nature of country,
nor pleasure of commodities, nor newness of friends, shall ever induce him to the
oblivion of such friends and benefactors.
And therefore, said he, from time to time I will write unto you how it goeth with
me.
But the last news of all I shall not be able to write.
For there, said he, taking Master Bullinger by the hand, where I shall take
most pains, there shall you hear of me to be burned to ashes.
Master Hooper, coming to London, used continually to preach, most times
twice at least once every day, and never failed.
The people in great flocks daily came to hear his voice, as the most melodious
sound and tune of Orpheus's harp, as the proverb saith, insomuch that
oftentimes when he was preaching the church would be so full that none could
enter further than the doors thereof.
In his doctrine he was earnest, in tongue eloquent, in the Scriptures
perfect, in pains indefatigable.
Even as he began, so he continued unto his life's end, for neither could his labor
and painstaking break him, neither promotion change him, neither dainty fare
corrupt him.
His life was so pure and good that no kind of slander could fasten any fault upon
him.
He was of body strong, his health whole and sound, his wit very pregnant,
his invisible patience able to sustain whatsoever sinister fortune and adversity
could do.
He was constant of judgment, a good justicer, sparer of diet, sparer of words,
and sparest of time, in housekeeping very liberal, and sometimes more free than his
living would extend unto.
He bare in countenance and talk always a certain severe grace which might,
peradventure, be wished sometimes to have been a little more popular in him,
but he knew what he had to do best himself.
This, by the way, I thought to note, for that there was once an honest citizen,
and to me not unknown, who having in himself a certain grudge of conscience,
came to Master Hooper's door for counsel.
But being abashed at his austere look, durst not come in, but departed,
seeking remedy of his troubled mind at other men's hands.
In my judgment, such as are made governors over the flock of Christ, to teach and
instruct them, ought so to frame their life, manners, countenance, and external
behavior, as neither they show themselves too familiar and light, whereby to be
brought into contempt, nor, on the other side, that they appear more lofty and
austere than appertaineth to the edifying of the simple flock of Christ.
At length, and that not without the great profit of many, Master Hooper was called
to preach before the King's Majesty, and soon after made Bishop of Gloucester.
In that office he continued two years, and behaved himself so well, that his very
enemies, except it were for his good doing and sharp correcting of sin, could find no
fault with him.
After that, he was made Bishop of Worcester.
But I cannot tell what sinister and unlucky contention concerning the ordering
and consecration of bishops, and of their apparel, with such other like trifles,
began to disturb the good and lucky beginning of the godly bishop.
For notwithstanding that godly reformation of religion then begun in the Church of
England, besides other ceremonies more ambitious than profitable, or tending to
edification, they used to wear such garments and apparel as the popish bishops
will want to do.
First a chimere, and under that a white rochette, then a mathematical cap with
four angles, dividing the whole world into four parts.
These trifles, tending more to superstition than otherwise, as he could
never abide, so in no wise could he be persuaded to wear them.
For this cause he made supplication to the king's majesty, most humbly desiring his
highness either to discharge him of the bishopric, or else to dispense with him
for such ceremonial orders, whose petition the king granted immediately.
Notwithstanding the bishops still stood earnestly in the defense of the aforesaid
ceremonies, saying it was but a small matter, and that the fault was in the
abuse of the things, and not in the things themselves, adding moreover that he ought
not to be so stubborn in so light a matter, and that his willfulness therein
was not to be suffered.
Whilst both parties thus contended more than reason would, occasion was given to
the true Christians to lament, to the adversaries to rejoice.
This theological contention came to this end, that the bishops having the upper
hand, Master Hooper was fain to agree to this condition, that sometimes he should
in his sermon show himself apparelled as the other bishops were.
Wherefore appointed to preach before the king, as a new player in a strange
apparel, he cometh forth on the stage.
His upper garment was a long scarlet chimere down to the foot, and under that a
white linen rochette that covered all his shoulders.
Upon his head he had a geometrical, that is, a four-squared cap, albeit that
his head was round.
What cause of shame the strangeness hereof was, that day, to that good preacher,
every man may easily judge.
Master Hooper, entering into his diocese, was so careful in his cure, that he left
neither pains untaken, nor ways unsought, how to train up the flock of Christ in the
true word of salvation.
No father in his household, no gardener in his garden, nor husbandman in his
vineyard, was more or better occupied than he in his diocese amongst his flock,
going about his towns and villages in teaching and preaching to the people.
The time that he had to spare from preaching he bestowed either in hearing
public causes, or else in private study, prayer, and visiting of schools.
With his continual doctrine he adjoined due and discreet correction, not so much
severe to any, as to them which for abundance of riches and wealthy state
thought they might do what they listed.
He spared no kind of people, but was indifferent to all men, as well rich as
poor.
His life in fine was such, that to the church and all churchmen it might be a
light and example, to the rest a perpetual lesson and sermon.
Though he bestowed the most part of his care upon the flock of Christ,
for the which he spent his blood, yet nevertheless there lacked no provision
in him to bring up his own children in learning and good manners, insomuch that
ye could not discern whether he deserved more praise for his fatherly usage at
home, or for his bishoplike doings abroad, for everywhere he kept one religion in one
uniform doctrine and integrity.
So that if you entered into the bishop's palace, you would suppose yourself to have
entered into some church or temple.
In every corner thereof there was some smell of virtue, good example,
honest conversation, and reading of holy Scriptures.
There was not to be seen in his house any courtly roisting or idleness, no pomp at
all, no dishonest word, no swearing could there be heard.
As for the revenues of both his bishoprics, he pursed nothing,
but bestowed it in hospitality.
Twice I was, as I remember, in his house in Worcester, where, in his common hall,
I saw a table spread with good store of meat and beset full of beggars and poor
folk.
And I, asking his servants what this meant, they told me that every day their
lord and master's manner was to have to dinner a certain number of poor folk of
the said city by course, who were served by four at a mess, with hot and wholesome
meats.
And when they were served, being before examined by him or his deputies of the
lord's prayer, the articles of their faith and the ten commandments, then he himself
sat down to dinner, and not before.
King Edward being dead, and Mary being crowned Queen of England, this good bishop
was one of the first that was sent for to be at London.
And although the said master Hooper was not ignorant of the evils that should
happen towards him, for he was admonished by certain of his friends to get him away
and shift for himself, yet he would not prevent them, but tarried still,
saying, Once I did flee, and take me to my feet, but now, because I am called to this
place in vocation, I am thoroughly persuaded to tarry, and to live and die
with my sheep.
And when, at the day of his appearance, which was the first of September 1553,
he was come to London, he was received very appropriately.
He freely and boldly told his tale, and purged himself, but in fine it came to
this conclusion, that by them he was commanded to ward, it being declared unto
him at his departure, that the cause of his imprisonment was only for certain sums
of money, for which he was indebted to the Queen, and not for religion.
The next year, being 1554, the 19th of March, he was called again to appear
before Winchester and other Queen's commissioners.
The Lord Chancellor asked whether he was married.
Yea, my lord, replied Master Hooper, and will not be unmarried till death
unmarry me.
The commissioners began to make such outcries, and laughed, and used such
gesture as was unseemly for the place.
The Bishop of Chichester, Dr. Day, called Master Hooper hypocrite,
with vehement words and scornful countenance.
Bishop Tonstall called him beast, so did Smith, one of the clerks of the
council, and divers others that stood by.
Tonstall, Bishop of Durham, asked Master Hooper whether he believed the corporal
presence in the sacrament.
Master Hooper said plainly that there was none such, neither did he believe any such
thing.
Then asked Winchester what authority moved him not to believe the corporal presence.
He said the authority of God's word, whereupon they bad the notaries write that
he was married, and said that he would not go from his wife, and that he believed not
the corporal presence in the sacrament.
Wherefore he was worthy to be deprived of his bishopric.
The true report of Master Hooper's entertainment in the fleet.
Written with his own hand, the 7th of January, 1555.
The 1st of September, 1553, I was committed unto the fleet from Richmond,
to have the liberty of the prison, and within six days after I paid for my
liberty five pounds sterling to the warden for fees, who immediately upon the payment
thereof complained unto Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester.
And so was I committed to close prison one quarter of a year in the tower chamber of
the fleet, and used very extremely.
Then by the means of a good gentlewoman I had liberty to come down to dinner and
supper, not suffered to speak with any of my friends, but as soon as dinner and
supper was done to repair to my chamber again.
Notwithstanding, while I came down thus to dinner and supper, the warden and his wife
picked quarrels with me, and complained untruly of me to their great friend the
Bishop of Winchester.
After one quarter of a year and somewhat more, Babington the warden and his wife
fell out with me for the wicked mass.
And thereupon the warden resorted to the Bishop of Winchester, and obtained to put
me into the wards, where I have continued a long time, having nothing appointed to
me for my bed but a little pad of straw and a rotten covering, with a tick and a
few feathers therein, the chamber being vile and stinking, until by God's means
good people sent me bedding to lie in.
On the one side of which prison is the sink and filth of all the house,
and on the other side the town ditch, so that the stench of the house hath
infected me with sundry diseases, during which time I have been sick,
and the doors, bars, hasps, and chains being all closed and made fast upon me,
I have mourned, called, and cried for help.
But the warden, when he hath known me many times ready to die, and when the poor men
of the wards have called to help me, hath commanded the doors to be kept fast,
and charged that none of his men should come at me, saying, Let him alone,
it were a good riddance of him.
I paid always like a baron to the said warden, as well as in fees, as for my
board, which was twenty shillings a week, besides my man's table, until I was
wrongfully deprived of my bishopric.
And since that time I have paid him as the best gentleman doth in his house,
yet hath he used me worse and more vilely than the veriest slave that ever came to
the hall commons.
The said warden hath also imprisoned my man William Downton, and stripped him out
of his clothes to search for letters, and could find none, but only a little
remembrance of good people's names, that gave me their arms to relieve me in
prison.
And to undo them also, the warden delivered the same bill unto the said
Stephen Gardner, God's enemy and mine.
I have suffered imprisonment almost eighteen months, my goods, living,
friends, and comfort taken from me, the queen owing me by just account
fourscore pounds or more.
She hath put me in prison, and giveth nothing to find me, neither is there
suffered any to come at me whereby I might have relief.
I am with a wicked man and woman, so that I see no remedy saving God's help,
but I shall be cast away in prison before I come to judgment.
But I commit my cause to God, whose will be done, whether it be by life or death.
The twenty-second of January following, 1555, Babington, the warden of the fleet,
was commanded to bring Master Hooper before the Bishop of Winchester,
with other bishops and commissioners, at the said Winchester's house at St. Mary
Overy's.
The Bishop of Winchester moved Master Hooper earnestly to forsake the evil and
corrupt doctrine, as he termed it, preached in the days of King Edward VI,
and to return to the unity of the Catholic Church, and to acknowledge the Pope's
holiness to be head of the same Church, according to the determination of the
whole Parliament, promising that as he himself, with other his brethren,
had received the Pope's blessing and the Queen's mercy, even so mercy was ready to
be showed to him and others if he would condescend to the Pope's holiness.
Master Hooper answered that, for as much as the Pope taught doctrine altogether
contrary to the doctrine of Christ, he was not worthy to be head thereof,
wherefore he would in no wise condescend to any such usurped jurisdiction.
Neither esteemed he the Church, whereof they call him head, to be the
Catholic Church of Christ, for the Church only heareth the voice of her spouse,
Christ, and flyeth the strangers.
Howbeit, saith he, if in any point to me unknown I have offended the Queen's
majesty, I shall most humbly submit myself to her mercy, if mercy may be had with
safety of conscience and without the displeasure of God.
Answer was made that the Queen would show no mercy to the Pope's enemies,
whereupon Bavington was commanded to bring him to the fleet again.
The 28th of January, Winchester and the Commissioners sat in judgment at St.
Mary's Ovaries, where Master Hooper appeared before them at afternoon again.
And there, after much reasoning and disputation to and fro, he was commanded
aside, till Master Rogers, who was then come, had been likewise examined.
Examinations being ended, the two sheriffs of London were commanded, about four o
'clock, to carry them to the compter in Southwark, there to remain till the morrow
at nine o'clock, to see whether they would relent and come home again to the Catholic
Church.
So Master Hooper went before with one of the sheriffs, and Master Rogers came after
with the other, and being out of church door, Master Hooper looked back and stayed
a little, till Master Rogers drew near, unto whom he said, Come, Brother Rogers,
must we too take this matter first in hand, and begin to fry these faggots?
Yea, sir, said Master Rogers, by God's grace.
Doubt not, said Master Hooper, but God will give us strength.
So going forwards, there was such a press of people in the streets who rejoiced at
their constancy, that they had much ado to pass.
Upon the next day they were brought again by the sheriffs before the said bishop and
commissioners.
After long and earnest talk, when they perceived that Master Hooper would by no
means condescend unto them, they condemned him to be degraded, and read unto him his
condemnation.
That done, Master Rogers was brought before them, and in like manner entreated,
and so they delivered both of them to the secular power, the two sheriffs of London,
who were willed to carry them to the clink, a prison not far from the bishop of
Winchester's house, and there to remain till night.
When it was dark, Master Hooper was led by one of the sheriffs, with many bills and
weapons, first through the bishop of Winchester's house, and so over London
Bridge, through the city to Newgate.
And by the way, some of the sergeants were willed to go before, and put out the
castamonger's candles, who used to sit with lights in the streets, either fearing
of likelihood that the people would have made some attempt to have him taken away
from them by force, if they had seen him go to that prison, or else being burdened
with an evil conscience, they thought darkness to be a most fit season for such
a business.
But notwithstanding this device, the people, having some foreknowledge of
his coming, many of them came forth of their doors with lights, and saluted him,
praising God for his constancy in the true doctrine which he had taught them,
and desiring God to strengthen him in the same to the end.
Master Hooper passed by, and required the people to make their earnest prayers to
God for him, and so went through Cheapside to the place appointed, and was delivered
as close prisoner to the keeper of Newgate, where he remained six days,
nobody being permitted to come to him or talk with him, saving his keepers,
and such as should be appointed thereto.
During this time, Barner, Bishop of London, and others at his appointment,
resorted divers times unto him to a say, if by any means they could persuade him to
relent, and become a member of their anti-Christian church, all the ways they
could devise they attempted.
For besides the allegations of testimonies of the Scriptures, and of ancient writers
rested to a wrong sense, according to their accustomed manner, they also used
all outward gentleness and significations of friendship, with many great proffers
and promises of worldly commodities, not omitting also most grievous
threatenings, if with gentleness they could not prevail.
But they found him always the same man, steadfast and immovable.
When they perceived that they could by no means reclaim him to their purpose with
such persuasions and offers as they used for his conversion, they went they about
by false rumors and report of recantations, to bring him and the
doctrine of Christ which he professed, out of credit with the people.
So the brute, being spread abroad, and believed of some of the weaker sort,
by reason of the often resort of the Bishop of London and others, it at last
came to Master Hooper's ears, wherewith he was not a little grieved that the people
should give credit unto false rumors.
The report abroad, as I am credibly informed, is that I, John Hooper,
a condemned man for the cause of Christ, should now, after sentence of death,
being in Newgate prisoner, and looking daily for execution, recant and abjure
that which heretofore I have preached.
And this talk arises of this, that the Bishop of London and his chaplains resort
unto me.
I have spoken and do speak with them when they come, for I fear not their arguments,
neither is death terrible unto me, and I am more confirmed in the truth which
I have preached heretofore by their coming.
I have left all things of the world, and suffered great pains and imprisonment,
and I thank God I am as ready to suffer death as a mortal man may be.
I have taught the truth with my tongue and with my pen heretofore, and hereafter
shortly shall confirm the same by God's grace with my blood.
Monday, the fourth of February, his keeper gave him an inkling that he
should be sent to Gloucester to suffer death, whereat he rejoiced very much,
lifting up his eyes and hands unto heaven, and praising God that he saw it good to
send him amongst the people over whom he was pastor, there to confirm with his
death the truth which he had before taught them, not doubting but the strength to
perform the same to his glory.
And immediately he sent to his servant's house for his boots, spurs, and cloak,
that he might be in a readiness to ride when he should be called.
The next day following, about four o'clock in the morning before day, the keeper with
others came to him and searched him, and the bed wherein he lay, to see if he
had written anything.
And then he was led by the sheriffs of London and their officers, fourth of
Nougat, to a place appointed not far from St. Gunston's Church in Fleet Street,
where six of the Queen's guards were appointed to receive him, and to carry him
to Gloucester, there to be delivered unto the sheriff, who, with the Lord Shandus,
Master Wicks, and other commissioners, were appointed to see execution done.
The witch-guard brought him to the Angel, where he break his fast with them,
eating his meat at that time more liberally than he had used to do a good
while before.
About the break of the day he went to horse, and leapt cheerfully on horseback
without help, having a hood upon his head under his hat, that he should not be
known.
And so he took his journey joyfully towards Gloucester, and always by the way
the guards learned of him where he was accustomed to bait or lodge, and ever
carried him to another inn.
On the Thursday following, he came to a town in his diocese called Syrenster,
fifteen miles from Gloucester, about eleven o'clock, and there dined at a
woman's house, who had always hated the truth, and spoken all evil she could of
Master Hooper.
This woman, perceiving the cause of his coming, showed him all the friendship she
could, and lamented his case with tears, confessing that she before had often
reported that if he were put to trial, he would not stand to his doctrine.
After dinner he rode forwards and came to Gloucester about five o'clock,
and a mile without the town was much people assembled which cried and lamented
his estate, insomuch that one of the guard rode post into the town to require aid of
the mayor and sheriffs, fearing lest he should be taken from them.
The officers and their retinue repaired to the gate with weapons, and commanded the
people to keep their houses, but there was no man that once gave any signification of
any such rescue or violence.
So as he lodged at one Ingram's house in Gloucester, and that night, as he had done
all the way, he did eat his meat quietly, and slept his first sleep soundly,
as it was reported by them of the guard and others.
After his first sleep he continued all that night in prayer until the morning,
and then he desired that he might go into the next chamber, for the guard were also
in the chamber where he lay, that there, being solitary, he might pray and talk
with God, so that all the day, saving a little at meat, and when he
talked at any time with such as the guard licensed to speak with him, he bestowed in
prayer.
Amongst others that spake with him, Sir Antony Kingston, knight, was one,
who seeming in time past his very friend, was then appointed by the Queen's Letters
to be one of the commissioners, to see execution done upon him.
Master Kingston, being brought into the chamber, found him at his prayer,
and as soon as he saw Master Hooper he burst forth in tears.
Master Hooper at the first blush knew him not.
Then said Master Kingston, Why, my lord, do you not know me, an old friend
of yours, Antony Kingston?
Hooper, Yes, Master Kingston, I do now know you well, and am glad to see you in
health, and do praise God for the same.
Kingston, But I am sorry to see you in this case, for as I understand you,
become hither to die.
But, alas, consider that life is sweet, and death is bitter.
Therefore seeing life may be had, desire to live, for life hereafter may do
good.
Hooper, Indeed it is true, Master Kingston, I am come hither to end this
life, and to suffer death here, because I will not gainsay the former
truth that I have heretofore taught amongst you in this diocese and elsewhere.
And I thank you for your friendly counsel, although it be not so friendly as I could
have wished it.
True it is, Master Kingston, that death is bitter, and life is sweet.
But, alas, consider that the death to come is more bitter, and the life to come is
more sweet.
Therefore, for the desire and love I have to the one, and the terror and fear of the
other, I do not so much regard this death, nor esteem this life, but have settled
myself through the strength of God's Holy Spirit patiently to pass through the
torments and extremities of the fire now prepared for me, rather than to deny the
truth of His word, desiring you and others in the meantime to commend me to God's
mercy in your prayers.
Kingston.
Well, my lord, then I perceive there is no remedy, and therefore I will take my leave
of you, and I thank God that ever I knew you, for God did appoint you to call me
being a lost child.
Hooper.
I do highly praise God for it, and I pray God you may continually live in
His fear.
After these and many other words, the one took leave of the other.
Master Kingston with bitter tears, Master Hooper with tears also trickling
down his cheeks.
At which departure Master Hooper told him that all the troubles he had sustained in
prison had not caused him to utter so much sorrow.
The same day in the afternoon, a blind boy, after long intercession made
to the guard, obtained license to be brought unto Master Hooper's speech.
The same boy, not long afore, had suffered imprisonment at Gloucester for confessing
of the truth.
Master Hooper, after he had examined him of his faith and the cause of his
imprisonment, beheld him steadfastly, and, the water appearing in his eyes,
said unto him, Ah, poor boy, God hath taken from thee thy outward sight,
for what reason he best knoweth.
But he hath given thee another sight much more precious, for he hath endued thy soul
with the eye of knowledge and faith.
God give thee grace continually to pray unto him, that thou lose not that sight,
for then shouldst thou be blind both in body and soul.
The same night he was committed by the guard, their commission being then
expired, unto the custody of the sheriffs of Gloucester, who, with the mayor and
alderman, repaired to Master Hooper's lodging, and took him by the hand.
Unto whom Hooper spake on this manner, Master Mayor, I give most hearty thanks to
you, and to the rest of your brethren, that you have vouchsafed to take me,
a prisoner and a condemned man, by the hand, whereby to my rejoicing it is
some deal apparent that your old love and friendship towards me is not altogether
extinguished.
And I trust also that all things I have taught you in times past are not utterly
forgotten, when I was here by the godly king that dead is appointed to be your
bishop and pastor.
For the which most true and sincere doctrine, because I will not now account
it falsehood and heresy, as many other men do, I am sent hither, as I am sure you
know, by the Queen's commandment to die, and am come where I taught it to confirm
it with my blood.
And now, Master Sheriffs, I understand by these good men, and my very friends,
meaning the god, at whose hands I have found so much favor and gentleness,
by the way hitherward as a prisoner could reasonably require, for the which also I
most heartily thank them, that I am committed to your custody, as unto them
that must see me brought to-morrow to the place of execution.
My request therefore to you shall be only, that there may be a quick fire shortly to
make an end.
And in the meantime I will be as obedient unto you as yourselves would wish.
If you think I do amiss in anything, hold up your finger, and I have done.
For I am not come hither as one enforced or compelled to die, for it is well known
I might have had my life with worldly gain, but as one willing to offer and give
my life for the truth, rather than consent to the wicked, papistical religion of the
Bishop of Rome, received and set forth by the magistrates in England to God's high
displeasure and dishonor.
And I trust by God's grace to-morrow to die a faithful servant of God,
and a true obedient subject to the Queen.
These words used Master Hooper to the Mayor, Sheriff, and Alderman, whereat many
of them lamented.
Notwithstanding, the two sheriffs were determined to have lodged him in the
common jail of the town called Northgate, if the guard had not made earnest
intercession for him, who declared how quietly, mildly, and patiently he had
behaved himself in the way, adding thereto that any child might keep him well enough,
and that they themselves would rather take pains to watch with him than that he
should be sent to the common prison.
So it was determined he should still remain in Robert Ingram's house,
and the sheriffs and sergeants and other officers did appoint to watch with him
that night themselves.
His desire was that he might go to bed that night betimes, saying that he had
many things to remember, and so he did at five o'clock, and slept one sleep soundly,
and bestowed the rest of the night in prayer.
After he got up in the morning, he desired that no man should be suffered
to come into the chamber, that he might be solitary till the hour of execution.
About eight o'clock came Sir John Bridges, Lord Shandos, with a great band of men,
Sir Anthony Kingston, Sir Edmund Bridges, and other commissioners appointed to see
execution done.
At nine o'clock Master Hooper was willed to prepare himself to be in a readiness,
for the time was at hand.
Immediately he was brought down from his chamber by the sheriffs, who were
accompanied with bills, glaives, and weapons.
When he saw the multitude of weapons, he spake to the sheriffs on this wise.
Master sheriffs, said he, I am no traitor, neither needed you to have made such a
business to bring me to the place where I must suffer.
For if ye had willed me, I would have gone alone to the stake, and have troubled none
of you all.
A multitude of people assembled to the number of seven thousand, for it was
market day, and many came to see his behaviour towards death.
So he went forward, led between the two sheriffs, as it were a lamb to the place
of slaughter, in a gown of his hosts, his hat upon his head, and a staff in his
hand, to stay himself with all.
For the grief of the sciatica which he had taken in prison caused him somewhat to
halt.
He would look very cheerfully upon such as he knew, and he was never known,
during the time of his being amongst them, to look with so cheerful and ruddish
accountance as he did at that present.
When he came to the place appointed where he should die, smilingly he beheld the
stake and preparation made for him, which was near unto the great elm tree,
over which the college of priests where he was wont to preach.
The place round about the houses, and the boughs of the trees, were
replenished with people, and in the chamber over the college gate stood the
wolfish bloodsuckers and turnlings, the priests of the college.
Then kneeled he down, for as much as he could not be suffered to speak unto the
people.
After he was somewhat entered into his prayer, a box was brought and laid before
him upon a stool, with his pardon, or at least wise it was feigned to be his
pardon, from the queen if he would turn.
At the sight whereof he cried, If you love my soul, away with it!
Prayer being done, he prepared himself to the stake, and put off his host's gown,
and delivered it to the sheriffs, requiring them to see it restored unto the
owner, and put off the rest of his gear, unto his doublet and hose, wherein he
would have burned.
But the sheriffs would not permit that, such was their greediness, unto whose
pleasures, good man, he very obediently submitted himself.
And his doublet, hose, and petticoat were taken off.
Then, being in his shirt, he took a point from his hose himself, and trussed his
shirt between his legs, where he had a pound of gunpowder in a bladder,
and under each arm the like quantity delivered him by the guard.
So desiring the people to say the Lord's prayer with him, and to pray for him,
who performed it with tears during the time of his pains, he went up to the
stake.
The hoop of iron prepared for his middle was brought, but when they offered to have
bound his neck and legs with the other two hoops of iron, he utterly refused them.
Thus being ready, he looked upon all the people of whom he might be well seen,
for he was both tall and stood also on a high stool, and in every corner there was
nothing to be seen but weeping and sorrowful people.
Then, lifting up his eyes and hands unto heaven, he prayed to himself.
By the by, he that was appointed to make the fire came to him, and did ask him
forgiveness, of whom he asked why he should forgive him, saying that he knew
never any offence he had committed against him.
O Sir, said the man, I am appointed to make the fire.
Therein said Master Hooper, Thou dost nothing offend me.
God forgive thee thy sins, and do thine office, I pray thee.
Then the reeds were cast up, and he received two bundles of them in his own
hands, embraced them, kissed them, and put under either arm one of them,
and showed with his hand how the rest should be bestowed, and pointed to the
place where any did lack.
A non-commandment was given that the fire should be set to.
But because there were put to no fewer green faggots than two horses could carry
upon their backs, it kindled not by and by, and was a pretty while also before it
took the reeds upon the faggots.
At length it burned about him, but the wind having full strength in that
place, it was a lowering and cold morning, it blew the flame from him, so that he was
in a manner nothing but touched by the fire.
Within a space after, a few dry faggots were brought, and a new fire kindled with
faggots, for there were no more reeds, and that burned at the nether parts,
but had small power above, because of the wind, saving that it did burn his hair and
swell his skin a little.
In the time of which fire, even as at the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly and
not very loud, but as one without pains, O Jesus, the Son of David, have mercy upon
me, and receive my soul.
After the second was spent, he did wipe both his eyes with his hands, and
beholding the people, he said with an indifferent loud voice, For God's love,
good people, let me have more fire.
And all this while his nether parts did burn, for the faggots were so few,
that the flame did not burn strongly at his upper parts.
The third fire was kindled within a while after, which was more extreme than the
other two, and then the bladders of gunpowder break, which did him small good,
they were so placed, and the wind had such power.
In the which fire he prayed with somewhat a loud voice, Lord Jesus, have mercy upon
me, Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.
And these were the last words he was heard to utter.
But when he was black in the mouth, and his tongue swollen, that he could not
speak, yet his lips went till they were shrunk to the gums, and he knocked his
breast with his hands, until one of his arms fell off, and then knocked still with
the other, what time the fat water and blood dropped out at his fingers' ends,
until by renewing of the fire his strength was gone, and his hand did cleave fast,
in knocking to the iron upon his breast.
So immediately, bowing forwards, he yielded up his spirit.
Thus was he three quarters of an hour or more in the fire.
Even as a lamb patiently he abode the extremity thereof, neither moving
forwards, backwards, nor to any side.
But he died as quietly as a child in his bed.
And he now reigneth, I doubt not, as a blessed martyr in the joys of heaven,
prepared for the faithful in Christ before the foundations of the world, for whose
constancy all Christians are bound to praise God.