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 Raya, 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 aforenoon, 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.
Then the fire was 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 as should suffice for his sustenance.
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 to 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 eighteenth 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 objective, 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, so long as it should please their ordinary to appoint.
John Stillman John Stillman 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 Wycliffe, affirming that he
was a saint in heaven.
He was delivered unto the sheriffs of London to be openly burned, 1518.
Thomas Mann Thomas Mann 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 Arsene besides 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 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 Freed's
Wide, 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 piqued 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 straightly 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 promising 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.
This book is continued on Disc.
8.
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.
1533.
Andrew Hewitt burned with John Frith.
Andrew Hewitt, born in Favisham, a young man of the age of twenty and four
years, went upon a holy day into Fleet Street toward 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 Hewitt 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 therewithall.
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
Wharram, 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 counsellors, 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 knees,
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 force 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 halberds 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 halberds, fell into the fire, and there
gave up his life.
1538.
STYLE 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 Style, 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 I am 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 Garrett, 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 Garrett, 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 Augustans, 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 sergeant-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 Fox,
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,
quote 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
favor.
The Cardinal answered, Such as you are, do bear us and the Catholic Church little
favor.
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
men 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 Aston Friars in London,
whence he was removed to Northampton, there to be burned.
One Master Horne, 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 ambassad, and in all his doings until the time that
Stephen Gardner 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 the 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, Gardner 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 Gardner 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 Garrett.
In the year of our Lord, 1526 or thereabout, Master Garrett, curate of
Honey Lane in London, came unto Oxford, and brought with him Tyndale's first
translations 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 Arseney, there to be kept in prison till
further order was taken.
The third companion who suffered with Barnes and Garrett 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 Garrett, being committed to the tower after Easter,
there remained till the thirtieth day of July, which was two days after the death
of 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 Jesus Christ.
The like confession made also Jerome and Jarret.
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, concentrating confession.
I answered him my meaning, which was, as St. James saith, that every man ought
to acknowledge his faults to others, 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, for bad women to speak or talk of
the word of God.
I answered him that I knew Paul's meaning as well as he, which is, in 1 Corinthians
14, 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,
he 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 Lyle, 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 Nugget.
My handling since my departure from Nugget.
I was sent from Nugget 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 glossing pretenses.
Then came there to me Nicholas Shaxton and counseled 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 man or women 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 Hartford sent it to me, and another in a violet coat gave
me eight shillings, and said my lady Denny sent it to 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 God therefore.
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 Nugget 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 reothersly, 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 reothersly 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 Lascelles, John Adams, and Nicholas Bellenian.
There was at the same time burned with her one Nicholas Bellenian, priest of
Shropshire, John Adams a tailor, and John Lascelles 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 VIII and King Edward VI, 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 Busser, 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 Busser 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 pre-bend 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 labored, 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 Bourne,
then Bishop of Bath, made a sermon at St. Paul's Cross, to set popery abroad,
in such thought 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 Barner,
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 Bourne, seeing the people in such a mood, and himself in such peril,
whereof he was sufficiently worn 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.
Bourne 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 Sheriff did lead Bourne 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 misdemeanor.
Within three days he was sent forth 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 Comptor 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 a resort of good folks was daily to his lecture, that commonly his chamber was
wellnigh 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 niggered of his purse, but would liberally participate that he
had to his fellow-prisoners, and commonly once a week he visited the thieves,
pickpurses, 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 Nougat.
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 Nougat, 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 Nougat,
a great multitude of people that came to see him, which most gently bade him
farewell, praying for him with the 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 o'clock in the morning there was in Smithfield a
multitude of men and women, but it was nine o'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 Leif.
John Leif John Leif was an apprentice to Humphrey Gordy, 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 Philpott Master John Philpott 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 Philpott sustained the
cause of the gospel manfully against the mass, for the which cause he was called to
account before Bishop Gardner, and from thence was removed to Bonner and
other commissioners, with whom he had sundry conflicts.
In the end the bishop, seeing his unmovable steadfastness in the truth,
did pronounce the sentence of condemnation against him.
I thank God, said Master Philpott, 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 Philpott turned him about, and said to him, Tomorrow thou shalt speak
with me.
Then the underkeeper said to Master Philpott, Is this your man?
And he said, Yea.
So he did license his man to go in with him, and Master Philpott 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 thou not done well to bring thyself
hither?
Well, said Master Philpott, I must be content, for it is God's appointment,
and I shall desire you to let me have your gentle favor, for you and I have been of
old acquaintance.
Well, said Alexander, I will show thee gentleness and favor, so thou wilt be
ruled by me.
Then said Master Philpott, 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 Philpott, 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 Philpott, Sir, what is your fee?
He said four pounds was his fees.
Ah, said Master Philpott, 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 gauge.
And with that Alexander departed from him, and commanded him to be had into limbo.
Then one witterance, steward of the house, took Master Philpott on his back,
and carried him down, his man knew not whither.
Wherefore Master Philpott 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 Philpott'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 o'clock he went in to Master Philpott, and took off his irons.
Upon Tuesday at supper, being the seventeenth day of December 1555,
there came a messenger from the Sheriffs, and bade Master Philpott make him ready,
for the next day he should suffer.
Master Philpott answered, I am ready, God grant me strength, and a joyful
resurrection.
And so he went in to 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 o'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 you 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 twenty-seventh day of January,
in Anno 1556, were burned these seven persons, Thomas Whittle, priest,
Bartlett Green, gentleman, John Tudson, artificer, John Wendt, artificer,
Thomas Brown, Isabel Foster, wife, Joan Warne, alias Lashford, maid.
What an evil mess of handling Whittle had, and how he was by Bishop Barna 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, 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 Bartlett Green was of a good house, and was sent into 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
thereof, 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 fifteenth day of
January, and afterward burned with the other six martyrs, the twenty-seventh 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, you 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.
John 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-seven, 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 12, Thomas Luseby, Henry Ramsey, Thomas
Thirtle, Margaret Hyde, and Agnes Stanley, who were apprehended for not coming to
their parish churches.
Thomas Thirtle answered unto Bishop Bonner, My lord, if you make me a heretic,
you make Christ and all the twelve apostles heretics.
Margaret Hyde 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, therefore, 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 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 bank 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 witch, six or seven persons, the said constable left a little behind
him in a close place, there to be ready if need be, while he came through them.
Looking what they were doing, he bad 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 bad 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 brew-house 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 meantime some of the women escaped.
In fine they were sent to Newgate twenty and two.
These were in prison seven weeks before they were examined.
Of these four said two and twenty were burnt thirteen, in Smithfield seven,
at Brentford six.
The name of these seven were Henry Pond, Raynald Eastland, Robert Southern,
Matthew Rickerby, John Floyd, John Holliday, 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 sea, 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 over soon 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 furthermore, 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
papestry 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 Diver's 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, goodwill, and the good counsel
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!