BX 5197 ·T24 PASSA A 555847 ܚܐ ܡܐ ܕܝ ܘܕܘܚܐ ܘܫܡܐ HE Di? AM 25+77243 Egy Ri $305) *** SPA **AR Mak Presented to Miiversity of м Bely Печи- н.вет Олеандач Class-of-21 www Robert Ransome, Ipswich. Ab ? LALIBETH PALACE. *S!.. 177' 5 #111 Memorials of the English Martyrs. 91978 has. BY THE REV, C. B. TAYLER, M.A., RECTOR OF OTLEY, SUffolk. Sad I MDCCCLIII. Seeleys, FLEET STREET AND HANOVER STREET, LONDON, IN I BX لها 5197 ·T24 • THE Author begs to offer an apology to his readers for some trifling repetitions, which may be found in the follow- ing pages. They are owing to the circumstances under which the book was written. He was not aware of them, till it was too late to remedy the oversight. He begs also to repeat, what he has said elsewhere in the volume, that he should be truly grateful to any of his readers, who would kindly furnish him with any additional information about the godly martyrs and confessors of the faith in the days to which he refers. He is particularly desirous to obtain facts, which would enable him to give a biographical account of those ladies who were the ministering women of the Reform- ation in England. Otley Rectory, Ipswich, January 20, 1853. CONTENTS. SMITHFIELD. William Sautre- Badley- Bayfield Bainham- Lambert-Anne Askew LUTTERWORTII. Wycliffe HADLEIGH. Taylor-Yeoman NORWICH. Bilney + · MANCHESTER, CAMBRIDGE, LONDON. Bradford CAERMARTHEN, CARDIFF. Ferrar-White . • ADISHAM, CANTERBURY. Bland GLOUCESTER. Hooper THURCASTON, CAMBRIDGE, LONDON, OXFORD. Latimer NORTHUMBERLAND, LONDON, OXFORD. Ridley. CHESTER, LANCASTER, DEANE. Marsh LAMBETH, OXFORD. Cranmer ESSEX, SUFFOLK, &c. Hunter-Lawrence-Rose Allen L'Envoy • • • · • • · · PAGE 1 21 42 75 102 122 139 164 185 243 289 316 366 385 + MENDENZAT CHU 英國 ​JAKN THERE SMITHFIELD IN 15-6. BURNING OF ANN ASKEW AND THREE OTHERS. MEMORIALS OF THE ENGLISH MARTYRS. Smithfield. "BE THOU FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH, AND I WILL GIVE THEE A CROWN OF LIFE."-REV. II. 10. IN former ages, it was a common custom for pilgrims to go forth on pilgrimage to those places that were hallowed by the associations connected with them. Places which had been the scenes of marvellous events, where wonders had been wrought, where men had lived in high repute for sanctity, or died as victims to unjust and cruel persecutions. Such places are still to be found, and are visited to this day. Alas! to many of them legends at once fabulous and absurd, are attached: and those who visit them are led to do so in the blindness of an ill-directed faith, and the credulity of a dark superstition. I might instance as one of these places that spot in Germany, which has lately attracted much atten- tion, where the highest and holiest name has been out- rageously profaned, and whither thousands and tens of thou- sands have flocked, to behold and to touch the pretended coat B MA 2 SMITHFIELD. of our blessed Lord, the seamless coat at Trêves, which was pronounced to be an authentic relic by the late Pope. The account given of these poor deluded pilgrims, is that the pavement at the Cathedral at Trêves was covered by prostrate forms, crying out to the ancient garment, exhibited to their adoring eyes;- holy coat, we pray to thee; holy coat, pray for us!" When we remind our readers, that there are nineteen places, each claiming to itself the honor of possessing the seamless coat of our Lord, and that the late Pope had authenticated not only that at Trêves, but another at Argenteuil, we leave them to judge, as to the character of that system, which dares to impose such absurd and lying legends upon the weak-minded and the credulous. I call upon my reader to accompany me upon a pilgrimage of a very different character. I have determined to go, as it were, on pilgrimage to those places where the martyrs to the truth as it is in Jesus, have left the record of their sufferings or of their death. I desire to interest my readers in the history of those meek and holy saints who, in times of terror and persecution, have loved truth better than life in the body, and have been enabled in that divine strength which is made perfect in weakness, willingly and cheerfully, to lay down their lives for His sake who loved them, and gave Himself for them. We will seek out, and visit together spots which, in these days of error, must not, and shall not be forgotten! Many of the following papers, though not intended for a periodical work, have already, by my permission, appeared before the public; and I have been thus encouraged, by the reception. which they met with, to follow up the plan originally laid down. I have been astonished to find, taking for instance the SMITHFIELD. 3 city of Chester where I then resided, that there were many persons sincerely attached to the protestant faith long resident in Chester, entirely ignorant of the fact, that the martyr George Marsh suffered at the stake for the faith of Christ, in their own city; and that the very spots hallowed by his courageous testimony to the truth, and his sad and dreadful sufferings, can be pointed out to them. CC I am well aware, that by calling the attention of the public to the frightful persecutions of popery, I lay myself open to the accusation that I am as one that stirreth up strife, and that I may be told it would be far better to let such mournful events lie hidden beneath the cloud of oblivion, which has, in many places, gathered over them. God knows, I say it with reverence, that I have no wish to stir up strife; but I feel that every one, who would obey that inspired command, Earnestly contend for the faith, once delivered to the saints" ; and who stands upon his watch-tower and looks abroad over the wide-spread wilderness around him, will find good cause to sound aloud the trumpet of alarm, when he per- ceives the dangers that are threatening the Church of Christ on every side. He will find that errors, which have long been regarded as exploded, are, as it were, cunningly repaired, and brought forward again in opposition to the truth; and that the Protestant Church, with the Bible in her hand and in her heart, is called upon to receive as her mother and her friend, that idolatrous church, whose claims are as ill-founded, but as daringly presumptuous, as they ever were. I wish to shew what Rome once was, and to prove to my readers that she is, and ever will be, the same; and, therefore, I would set before the ignorant and the forgetful, the facts of by-gone days, and shew them, from what we know of popery as it has come be- B 2 4 SMITHFIELD. fore us in the present day, that it has improved in nothing but in the arts of deceit and speciousness, that the monster is still the same, though in former times it might be compared to the wolf in all its ferocity, and at the present time it comes forth as the wolf in sheep's clothing. This language may seem strong, but those who are best acquainted with the facts of the subject, will not think my assertion unjust; and let those who are ignorant on these points, bear in mind that I do not here speak of individuals, but of the system— not of Romanists, but of Romanism. My pilgrim visits will be now paid to the different places in this country, which have been distinguished by the sufferings of English martyrs; and, in future volumes, it is my intention. to visit those places in foreign lands, which are likewise marked by the persecutions of this fearful religion. It is, alas! well known that France, Italy, and Spain, have reckoned their thousands of martyrs to the cause of pure scriptural truth. I commence these memorials of the English Martyrs by a visit to that spot which has, alas! within its narrow boundary, borne witness to more of the sufferings of innocent and holy martyrs, than any spot in England. I speak of SMITHFIELD. 60 Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them." * This was the question of an ignorant and misguided zeal, utterly unlike the spirit of Him, to whom the fierce and angry question was addressed.—The two disciples received at once their answer, an answer which must stand recorded in the word of truth, while the world endures ; "He turned and rebuked them, and said, know ye not what spirit ye are of; for the Son of man is not come to * Luke ix. 54-56. SMITHFIELD. 5 destroy men's lives, but to save." Thus also the great preacher and apostle to the Gentiles gives, under the inspiration of God, this character of the Minister of Christ-" The servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose them- selves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth, that they may recover them- selves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at his will." * Here plain directions are written, as to the mode of treatment to be pursued by the minister of the gospel of love and peace, not only towards heretics or those holding errors in doctrine, but to the determined opposer of the truth as it is in Jesus. Where then, but in the violence of the natural heart, which in every unregenerate man, is not only desperately wicked, but deceitful above all things, can we find any authority or any excuse for a spirit of persecution towards those who differ from us, nay, towards those who differ from and oppose the truth. Alas! the apostle Paul was as far-sighted as he was clear-sighted when he wrote; “I know that after my departing, shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock." And thus it has too often happened, that men have called themselves the ministers of Christ, and taken upon them the awful commission of a herald of life and peace, who instead of being ensamples to the flock, have not only been "lords," but tyrants over God's heri- tage." cr CC Such thoughts as these, would naturally arise in my heart, when standing at night in the large open area of Smithfield, and looking upon the dark and dimly-defined objects which surrounded me. The mysterious gloom of the hour almost. * 2 Tim. ii. 24-26. 6 SMITHFIELD. enabled me to suppose, that I was gazing round upon the same buildings, which had encompassed that memorable spot some hundred years ago. And as I stood there, quiet and alone, I thought of the various and conflicting feelings to which that spot must have borne witness, when it was made the scene of the horrible persecutions, and fiendlike cruelties of Romish superstition. Surely a walk through Smithfield ought to awaken thought in every Englishman's mind, sad and serious thought, when he considers to what an excess of savage bigotry, even his own manly countrymen have been degraded by "the deceivableness of unrighteousness" in that system which the godly Cecil has termed, not without having good reason for the strong expression, "the masterpiece of Satan; " which has never sprung up and grown to any height in this free soil, or indeed in any land upon the broad earth which we inhabit, without bringing forth its bitter and deadly fruit. Notwithstanding the lapse of nearly three hundred years, a silent thoughtful walk at night across the great square of Smithfield, made me shudder as I felt that it was almost impossible to stand upon that common causeway of the busiest city in the world, without dark and dreadful associations, rising like hideous phantoms from the fatal spot. And why? There is blood upon the earth,—a foul, and horrible stain of blood. The soil has been drunk with the blood of martyred saints: and at that awful but approaching day, when “the Lord shall come out of His place, to punish the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity, when the earth shall disclose her blood, and shall no more cover her slain," O, what a sad, sad, tale shall the soil of Smithfield tell! How many a meck and pallid form shall arise, to bear witness against the ungodly deeds, which ungodly sinners have committed against them, SMITHFIELD. 7 رو and against the ungodly speeches which they have spoken against them; for the Master, in whose cause they suffered, counts every act of violence and cruelty committed against his little ones, as done unto Himself. Oh, should I not rather say, how many a blessed martyr shall come forth "clothed in white robes, and palms in their hands," belonging to the blessed number of those who "were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held," "having come out of great tribulation, and washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." Long indeed, is the list that might be given of those who have suffered for the truth in the horrid fires of Smithfield. There it was, that WILLIAṀ SAUTRE stood first and foremost in that glorious band. There he suffered, after having been degraded from his holy office, to the rank of a layman, and given over to the secular power, with a frightful mockery of justice. We are told, that the civil powers were besought "to receive favourably the said Sir William Sautre, thus unto them recommended." And then Henry the IVth was persuaded by the Bishop of Nor- wich, and the Archbishop of Canterbury to make out a terri- ble decree against him, and send it to the Mayor and Sheriffs of London to be put in execution, according to these words: -that in some public and open space, within the liberties of their city of London, the said William should be put into the fire, really to be burned, to the great horror of his offence, and the manifest example of other Christians. "Fail not in the execution therefore," are the last words of the cruel de- cree," upon the peril that will fall thereupon." And what was this offence? "That in the sacrament of the altar, after the consecration of the priest, Sautre declared, there remain- eth material bread! 8 SMITHFIELD. Another martyr who suffered at Smithfield in this reign, was JOHN BADBY, for an offence almost alike to that of William Sautre. The king's writ for his execution was sent down in the afternoon of the very day, on which sentence was passed upon him in the morning, and he was forthwith led to Smith- field. The profligate and thoughtless Prince Henry seems to have been led by curiosity, to witness the execution of this poor, honest-hearted man, and touched with compassion, he entreated him to recant, but in vain. The faggots were kin- dled, and as the flames arose, the sufferer cried mercy, "call- ing belike upon the Lord, and not upon man." The generous- hearted Prince was moved, and commanded them to take away the tun which had been placed over him, and to quench the fire; and the Prince renewed his entreaties, that he would forsake his heresy, offering him, as a bribe, a yearly stipend out of the king's treasury. The servant of Christ was of an immoveable spirit, and chose rather to die, than to give up his pure and scriptural faith; and then it was, that the choler of the Prince was stirred up, and to his disgrace, he commanded him to be put again into the pipe or tun, and the wood being again kindled, the meek, but undaunted victim expired in the flames. We may turn next to the account given of RICHARD BAYFIELD.—" Blessed Bayfield," as Foxe calls him, was one of the martyrs of Henry the Eighth's reign.-I single out but here and there one from that noble band of martyrs, who sealed the testimony of their faith with their blood in this same Smithfield.—The offence of Bayfield, who was a Benedictine monk at Bury St. Edmund's, began with his having the New Testament in his possession. Though I pass over his interest- ing story, I should wish my readers to be well read in this • SMITHFIELD. 9 portion of the ecclesiastical history of their own country; and in spite of the arguments and the cavils of modern ob- jectors, I would refer them to "the Acts and Monuments" of the godly and honest John Foxe. Surely they will feel their spirit stirred within them with an honest and burning indignation at the account of this poor persecuted monk. He was brought before Tonstal, Bishop of London, in St. Paul's church, and there degraded as Sautre had been, from holy orders. After they had taken from him, one by one, the vestments or other various badges of his offices as priest, deacon, acolyte, and reader, and while he was kneel- ing on the high step of the altar, the savage prelate Tonstal struck him so violent a blow on the chest with his crosier staff, that he fell backwards, in a swoon, and with his head broken from the violence of his fall. He was then led back to Newgate, and there he passed the hour which was granted him, in prayer. The stake had been in the mean time prepared for him in Smithfield; and he went to the fire manfully and joy- fully. There for lack of a speedy fire, he was two quarters of an hour alive, and when his left arm was on fire and burned, he rubbed it with his right hand, and it fell from his body; but he continued in prayer to the end without moving. Alas, we read that Sir Thomas More was one of the chief persecutors of this good man, 'He not only brought him to his end,' says Foxe, but ceased not to rave after his death in his ashes, to pry and spy out what sparks he could find of reproach and contumely, whereby to rase out all good memory of his name and fame.' The few words added by Foxe, on More, are very striking. He says of him, ' He was a man so blinded in the zeal of popery, so deadly set against the one side, and so par- tially affectionate unto the other, that in them whom he favor- 10 SMITHFIELD. eth he can see nothing but all fair roses and sweet virtue: in the other which he hateth, there is never a thing that can please his fantasy, but all is as black as pitch.' JAMES BAINHAM, was another of the Smithfield martyrs, and his dying words bare a strong testimony to the spirit of Christian love which was in him to the last. The Lord for- give Sir Thomas More,' was the prayer he uttered in the flames, and pray for me all good people,' he added, and so prayed he till the fire took his bowels and his head. When the fire had half consumed his arms and legs, he cried out: Oh, ye papists, behold ye look for miracles, and here now ye see a miracle: for in this fire I feel no more pain than if I were in a bed of down; but it is to me as a bed of roses.' C Few seem to have been more cruelly treated than the noble and learned Lambert. He was chained to the stake; and when the wretches who conducted his execution, saw that his legs were consumed in the fire and burned up to the stumps, they withdrew the fire from him, leaving only a small fire and coals under him, and with their halberts pitched him upon their pikes as far as the chain would reach. But strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might, the dying martyr lifted 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." Little did he think, perhaps, that those lovely words would be afterwards echoed by the lips of so many faithful followers of his blessed Lord; that “ none but Christ, none but Christ," would be the watchword of the soldiers of Christ to cheer them in the conflict, and lead them forward in the same path; stedfastly setting their faces to- wards the heavenly city, through evil report and good report, SMITHFIELD. 11 ་ 1 till they were called to enter into their rest, to be with Christ for ever. But perhaps the most interesting victim of the fires of Smithfield was the celebrated ANNE ASKEW. I would dwell a little longer upon the sad story of this gentle and delicate lady. She had been singled out by the crafty and ambitious enemies of Queen Catherine Parr and the godly ladies of her court, to be the instrument through whom they might find an accusation against the Queen, for holding the faith and the principles of the Reformation. Anne Askew was the youngest daughter of Sir William Askew, of Kelsey, in Lin- colnshire; her eldest sister had been engaged to marry a gen- tleman of the name of Kyme, a harsh and bigotted papist ; but the sister died, and she was compelled by her father to take her sister's place, and become the wife of Mr. Kyme. It had turned out a most unhappy marriage for poor Anne Askew. Her education had been superior to that usually given to her sex in those days, and she was a woman of en- lightened mind, unlike in character and disposition to her morose and narrow-minded husband. She seems to have been a child of God from her earliest years, and to have searched and prized the Holy Scriptures, which had made her wise unto salvation. Her love of truth as it is found in its purity and freshness in the word of inspiration, had given great displeasure to her husband, and she was cruelly driven from her home. Being compelled to come up to London to sue for a divorce, the persecution of her husband and the Popish priests followed her, and she fell into the toils which they had laid for her. Anne Askew, for she had resumed her maiden name,—was evidently one of those lovely children of God, who have been fitted by him to adorn the doctrine they pro- B 12 SMITHFIELD. T fess with those holy graces which are the peculiar fruits of the Spirit of God in the heart. Her thorough knowledge of holy Scripture, the hold which it had obtained upon her mind, the influence which it had exercised upon her conduct, the sweetness which it had breathed over her manners, seem to have won for her the affections of those noble and pious ladies who formed the circle of the Queen's society, and Catherine Parr herself is said to have been her friend, and to have re- ceived books from her, and to have returned many a kind message. There was probably a more unguarded and fearless spirit in this meek and gentle lady, than in any other of the followers of Christ belonging to her sex and rank. But how- ever that might be, she soon found that all the sweet familiar intercourse she had held on various occasions with the godly ladies of the court must cease; and that her attachment to the writings and memory of them must be locked up, as inviolate secrets in her own bosom; for she was apprehended on the charge of holding heretical opinions against the six articles, with especial reference to the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and sent to prison. Her conduct from that time presents a remarkable combination of lofty self-possession, and touching simplicity and sweetness-of firmness, constancy, and a ready wit (according to the ancient meaning of that word), and all these qualities seem to have been in perfect keeping in her character and conduct, and to have made her at the same time one of the most feminine and courageous of her sex. Two objects were plainly manifest in all the examinations which she underwent-the first was to make her criminate herself, the second to lead her to criminate the Queen and those of her ladies who were suspected of holding the new MAS ** 10 1000 AAAAANAANNAA W "DETIN FERTILIUSDEM AD CAT S.WILLIAMS, kanikaluru Trampomnilihim inter ip har AAAA OLD GUILDHALL, LONDON. SMITHFIELD. 13 learning,' as the eternal truths of the Gospel, were termed by the papists. - Surely, few women have so dearly and so truly won the title of heroine in the highest sense of the word, as the poor per- secuted martyr, Anne Askew. Few have possessed a presence of mind so unsupported by human strength, or even so un- countenanced by human friends as this young and delicate lady. The wisdom and discreetness which she exhibited in answering the insidious questions, and baffling the crafty de- signs of her enemies, were no less remarkable than her clear and accurate knowledge of the word of God, and her resolute spirit in cleaving to that word. And thus she met and sur- mounted all the difficulties, to which she was exposed, in one conference after another with the most skilful and subtle of the popish party, and every one who encountered with her was completely foiled by her truth, her simplicity of wisdom, her patience, and her calm trust in God. Her piteous story is enough to melt the sternest man to tears, were it not that the heart must throb, and the cheek burn at the disgraceful consciousness that Englishmen, and English prelates could be found bad and base enough to make that gentle lady the vic- tim of their diabolical malice. We read that she was examined and questioned concerning her opinions by Christopher Dare, and Sir Martin Bowes, the then Lord Mayor, and their brother commissioners. With what inimitable simplicity did she reply in that conversation, which is recorded to have taken place between the Lord Mayor and herself: "What if a mouse eat the sacramental bread, after it is consecrated?" was the absurd question, "What shall become of the mouse, what sayest thou, thou foolish woman ?” Nay, what say you, my Lord, will be- CC 14 SMITHFIELD. come of it?" she answered. Thus urged, the blundering Lord Mayor replied; "I say, that mouse is damned ! " Alack, poor mouse," was her quiet reply; and so at once all his divinity was discomfited. She herself in the most artless language, gives the account of her various examinations. In her interview with a priest she likewise called upon him to answer his own questions, on which he told her that it was against the order of the schools, that he who asked the question, should be required to answer it;" she at once tells him, that "she is but a woman and knows not the course of schools." She then recounts her conference with his Archdeacon, when sent for by Bonner, and afterwards with Bonner himself, when he endeavoured to gain her confidence by a pretended interest in her welfare, and so to put her off her guard, " He brought forth this unsavory similitude," she said, "that if a man had a wound, no wise surgeon could minister help unto it, before he had seen it un- covered: in like case said he, can I give you no good counsel, unless I know wherewith your conscience is burdened." I answered, said Anne Askew, that my conscience was clear, and that to lay a plaster upon a whole skin was much folly. But we pass over these examinations, in which the patience of those adversaries who could not overcome her patience, was at length exhausted. These bold and crafty men were deter- mined to spare neither threat nor violence by which they might extort from her some word or other, as a ground of accusation against the Lady Herbert, who was the Queen's sister, or the Duchess of Suffolk, and so at last Queen Katherine herself. As yet they had discovered nothing. Rich and another of the Council came to her in the tower where she was then confined, and demanded that she should make the disclosures which CC r 1 SMITHFIELD. 15 they required concerning her party, and her friends. She told them nothing. "Then they did put me on the rack," she relates, "because I confessed no ladies or gentlemen to be of my opinion; and thereon they kept me a long time, and be- cause I lay still and did not cry, my Lord Chancellor and Mr. Rich took pains to rack me with their own hands till I was nigh dead." These two wretches, it is recorded, provoked by her saint-like endurance, ordered the lieutenant of the tower to rack her again. He, Sir Anthony Knevett, "tendering the weakness of the woman," positively refused to do so. Then Wriothesly and Rich threw off their gowns, and threatening the lieutenant that they would complain of his disobedience to the king, "they worked the rack themselves, till her bones and joints were almost plucked asunder." When the lieute- nant caused her to be loosed down from the rack, she immedi- ately swooned. "Then" she writes, "they recovered me again." After that, "I sate two long hours reasoning with my Lord Chancellor on 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 very end." And she concludes this account to her friend, by saying, “Farewell dear Friend, and pray, pray, pray." ઃઃ She gives her confession of faith, and concludes it with this beautiful prayer. "O Lord! I have more enemies now, than there be hairs on my head! yet Lord, let them never overcome me with vain words, but fight thou, Lord, in my stead for on Thee cast I my care! With all the spite they can imagine, they fall upon me, who am Thy poor creature. Yet, sweet Lord, let me not set by them that are against me; for in Thee is my whole delight. And, Lord, I heartily : 16 SMITHFIELD. desire of Thee, that Thou wilt of Thy most merciful goodness, forgive them that violence which they do, and have done, unto me; open also Thou their blind hearts, that they may hereafter do that thing in Thy sight, which is only acceptable before Thee, and to set forth Thy verity aright, without all vain fantasies of sinful men. So be it, O Lord, so be it." Unable to walk or stand from the tortures she had suffered, poor Anne Askew was carried in a chair to Smithfield, and when brought to the stake, was fastened to it by a chain which held up her body, and one who beheld her there, describes her as "having an angel's countenance, and a smiling face." The plate annexed is the view of Smithfield as it appeared that day. She had three companions in her last agonies, fellow martyrs with herself, John Lacels, a gentleman of the court and household of King Henry, John Adams a tailor, and Nicholas Belenian, a priest of Shropshire. The apostate Shaxton, preached the Sermon. The three Throckmortons. the near kinsmen of the Queen, and members of her house- hold, had drawn near to comfort Anne Askew and her three companions, but were warned that they were marked men, and entreated to withdraw. As we stand now on the area of Smithfield we can picture to ourselves the scene on that memorable night. There it was, under St. Bartholomew's Church. There sat Wriothesly, Lord Chancellor of England, the old Duke of Norfolk, the old Earl of Bedford, the Lord Mayor, with divers others. At the very last, a written pardon from the King was offered to Anne Askew, upon condition that she would recant. The fearless lady turned away her eyes, and would not look upon it. She told them that she came not thither to deny her Lord and Master. The fire was ordered to be put under SMITHFIELD. 17 her," and thus," to use the words of John Foxe, "the good Anne Askew with these blessed martyrs, having passed through so many torments, having now ended the long course of her agonies, being compassed in with flames of fire as a blessed sacrifice unto God, she slept in the Lord, A. D. 1546, leaving behind her a singular example of Christian constancy for all men to follow." Her crime was, the denial of the Mass. "Lo, this," she wrote, "is the heresy that I hold, and for it must suffer death." She kept the faith to her God, she kept the faith to her friends, for she betrayed no one, enduring shame and agony with meek unshaken constancy. O none but Christ, none but Christ could have made the weakness of a delicate woman so strong, the feebleness of a mortal creature so tri- umphant ! And thus the Square of Smithfield, which was made in the reign of Henry the First, " a lay stall of all ordure or filth," and the place of execution for felons and other transgressors, has become not only drenched with the blood of martyrs, but hallowed by the faith and patience of the saints, by the witness. of their good confessions, and by the breath of their dying prayers and praises. But why bring these horrible details forward? Because, I re- peat, if ever there was a time when it was right to shew the real character of popery, it is now. The principles of popery are beginning to spring up throughout the length and breadth of the land, openly in some parts, covertly in others; and men whose bibles might have taught them other things, are begin- ning to be enamoured with the delusions and ensnaring allure- ments of a system which can appear to be anything or every- thing in order to suit all times and all circumstances: system which, in the doctrine of tradition opens the door to a C 18 SMITHFIELD. the most unbridled license, and finds a cloak for every enor- mity. Are we to be told that those deadly superstitions, those savage persecutions, those inhuman tortures were rather the fruit of those dark ages than peculiar to Popery. I cannot agree to this. Popery contains in itself the germ of all the deadly errors and dreadful practices which have ever been inseparable from bigotry and superstition. The opinion of one of the most profound and acute observ- ers that ever lived,-we speak of Lord Bacon, is to be noted on this point. In his Essay on Superstition, he speaks of the causes of superstition, and one would almost think that he were describing the characteristics of popery, when he enume- rates, what he terms the causes of superstition; these are, he says, "pleasing and sensual rites and ceremonies,—excess of outward and pharisaical holiness,—over-great reverence of tra- ditions, which cannot but load the Church,-the stratagems of prelates for their own ambition and lucre,-the favouring too much of good intentions, which openeth the gate to con- ceits and novelties, the taking an aim at divine matters by human, which cannot but breed a mixture of incoherent ima- ginations; and lastly, barbarous times, especially joined with calamities and disasters." Here we find, that what many of shallow and modern reasoners put first, laying the blame rather on the times than on the system, he places last among his causes. - I have met with this objection also, that men of other churches holding a pure faith have also been persecutors. I reply that the pure churches to which they belonged, never taught them to persecute as part of their system. When this bad spirit is found in any man, it is to be attributed to his own corrupt heart, perverting that which is in itself good and SMITHFIELD. 19 holy but with regard to that man, his Bible and his Church unequivocally condemn him. The Popish Church, on the contrary, in this and in many other ways, sides with the worst corruptions of the human heart,—with the Romanist, persecu- tion even unto death, is not the perversion of his system, but part of the system itself. I copy word for word, from the notes of "the Douay Bible and Rhemish Testament, extracted from the quarto editions of 1816 and 1818, published under the patronage of the Roman Catholic Bishops and Priests of Ireland, as the authorized interpretation of the Church, and the infallible guide to everlasting life." And there, in the note appended to the sixth verse of the seventeenth chapter of the Revelations, it is written: "The protestants foolishly ex- pound," drunk with blood" of Rome, for that they put heretics to death, and allow of their punishment in other countries; but their blood is not called the blood of saints, no more than the blood of thieves, man-killers, and other malefactors: for the shedding of which, by order of justice, no commonwealth shall answer." And as a practical commentary on this, we may pass from the fires of Smithfield, to the later carnage of St. Bartholomew, when at a low calculation 30,000 of the unof- fending professors of a pure faith, were put to death; or to the dreadful slaughter at the revocation of the edict of Nantes. Up to the present day, the same doctrine has been secretly taught. In confirmation of the note above cited in the Douay Bible, we have but to turn to another well-known book, the Theology of Peter Dens, a work which has been industriously circulated of late years, among the Romish priests of Ireland, in which this same doctrine, of the lawfulness of putting here- tics to death, is expressly taught. These facts are not brought before you, my reader, to in- C 2 20 SMITHFIELD. flame you against Papists, but to inform you about the real character of Popery. Heedless people who do not read much, and take up popular opinions and argue on them, do not know and do not care about these things; but those who read, or I should say, search and judge for themselves, will perhaps agree with me, that the more we know of this here- tical system, the worse it appears. To turn away from Popery to the pure christianity of the Holy Bible, is like raising the eyes from the gloom of Smithfield, lighted only by the flames of blazing faggots and dying martyrs, and resounding with the shouts of savage persecutors, to the broad expanse of heaven as it appears to me, to-night. Though all is wrapt in partial gloom below, far far above, the moon is rising in her mild and quiet glory, and the stars are sparkling silently in the calm clear depths of the cloudless sky. Blinge A LUTTERWORTH CHURCH. V***. Lutterworth. A MILD spring morning had succeeded to the cold deep gloom of night. Broken clouds were scattered here and there over the clear sky, but the rising sun spread the radiance and the glow of its glorious beams over the whole broad expanse, steeping the nearer clouds in a flood of golden light, and flushing the more distant with rosy lustre; aud pouring down its brilliant rays over a truly English landscape. Pas- tures were there, clothing the sloping hills with lawns of richest verdure, some sprinkled over with cowslips, others yellow with buttercups; hedge-rows of vivid green, whence the milk-white flowers of the hawthorn filled the air with per- fume a little stream winding its silvery way through the meadows of the valley-the tender haze of morning still. hovering over its glassy surface. A soft and genial shower was just over, and the glittering rain-drops trembled upon the leaves and springing grass, while the freshened earth gave forth that balmy smell which rises after gentle rain. All was green, and fresh, and sparkling with the warm and golden sunshine. The last traces of a long winter, seemed on that morning to have passed quite away. There was no touch of the cold cut- ting east, or the sharp north, in the soft playful breeze: no 22 LUTTERWORTH. marks of wintry barrenness upon the ground: the humbler plants on every bank were pushing forth their bright green shoots, or unfolding their leaf-buds, or opening their tinted blossoms to the sun. Even the grey branches of the back- ward ash were hung with foliage. The bees were groping and murmuring in the bells of the cowslips: butterflies in constant motion upon the buttercups of the meadows, and in the branches of the ash tree a goldfinch was fluttering its bright wings, and warbling forth its sweet and merry song. Every sight that met the eye, and every sound that fell upon the ear seemed to speak one language: night is gone, and winter is past. It was a scene, and a season, and a morning such as Chaucer, nature's true poet, would have painted with words breathing of the sweetness and freshness of the morning air. It brought to mind his lovely Fable of the Flower and the Leaf, and his description of the morning hour. • When sweetest showers of rain descending soft Had caused the ground full many a time and oft To breathe around a fresh and wholesome air, And every dewy plain was clothed fair With newest green, and bright and little flowers Sprung here and there in every field and mead; So very good and wholesome be the showers, That they renew whate'er was old and dead In winter time, and out of every seed Bursteth the herb, so that each living wight In this fresh season waxeth glad and light.' - But higher thoughts than those which brought to mind Chaucer's description of a gladsome spring morning were linked with that spot. From the field-path which crossed those soft green pastures, the eye passed onward over the little stream, to the quiet country town upon the slope of the * opposite hill. The mass of houses where the slant sunbeams LUTTERWORTH. 23 glanced upon many a window-pane, was Lutterworth, and the tower of the venerable church which rose above the town and crowned the summit of the hill, standing forth in the full bright sunshine, and in bold relief from a dark mass of purple clouds, that was the Church where Wycliffe preached. The very pastures, and the still waters of the stream were the same where once that godly shepherd looked round upon the sphere which God had made his pastoral charge, and like the Psalmist, beheld in them the lovely types of spiritual comfort and heavenly refreshment to his flock. Alas! the Englishman who stands shame-stricken upon the broad area of Smithfield, may well feel that the night season and its brooding darkness is best suited to the associations of that sad and memorable spot. But morning and the glad spring-season of the year accord with Lutterworth. There the men of England may bless God from the fulness of their grateful hearts, that their own countryman was called forth to take the lead in the great struggle, which then commenced in this most favored land, for God's pure word of truth, and for the faithful preaching, and the free circulation of that blessed word. A spring morning in the quiet pastures of Lutterworth, recalled the language of a higher, holier mind than that of Chaucer. Milton in his glorious words, has given the de- scription of the dawn of heavenly day, from the black night of ignorance and error. "When I recall to mind at last," he writes, "after so many dark ages, wherein the huge, overshadowing train of error had almost swept all the stars out of the firmament of the Church; how the bright and blissful reformation (by divine power) struck through the black and settled night of 24 LUTTERWORTH. ignorance and antichristian tyranny; methinks a sovereign and reviving joy must needs rush into the bosom of him that reads or hears; and the sweet odour of the returning gospel imbathe his soul with the fragrancy of heaven. Then was the sacred Bible sought out of the dusty corners, where profane falsehood and neglect had thrown it, the schools opened, divine and human learning raked out of the embers of forgotten tongues, the princes and cities trooping apace to the new erected banner of salvation, the martyrs with the unresistible might of weakness, shaking the powers of darkness, and scorning the fiery rage of the old red dragon * * * * * * * * * * and our Wycliffe's preaching, was the lamp at which all the succeeding reformers lighted their tapers." Lutterworth is a small market town in the neighbourhood of Leicester. There the church may still be seen, where this great and early reformer of the English Church preached the Gospel of Christ crucified in its entireness and its simplicity. The very pulpit is the same from which he held forth the word of life to his people, and in the vestry is preserved the old oak chair in which, according to the tradition of the place, the pastor of Lutterworth died; this with a solid table, which is also said to have been his, came out of the old Rectory, when it was pulled down some fifty years ago. The church tower is a sort of land-mark to the country round, standing on the highest spot in the immediate neighbourhood. At Lutterworth, the name of Wycliffe, is still dear to the hearts of the people. Its pastors are faithful to that great commission, which Wycliffe first opened there. Time was,' said one-then preaching in that hallowed pulpit on the occa- sion of the putting up of a monument to the memory of LUTTERWORTH. 25 I Wycliffe in Lutterworth.-Time was when the name we meet to honour, was the very by-word of scorn; when they who avowed regard for it were hunted for their lives; when the books which are now preserved in libraries, as the most sacred of their treasures, were denounced as containing deadly poison; when the men who retained them after warning were committed to the flames. And now this man takes his place in the very first ranks of the world's benefactors: after the lapse of four centuries and a half, his memory is as fresh as ever; the very children in our cottages are taught to love their native place the better, because it was once his home, and afforded him a grave, and the simple announcement that we desire to thank God for that which he wrought, becomes a rallying cry for a whole neighbourhood.' To all who venerate the great name of Wycliffe, I would recommend that eloquent Sermon,* as a clear and admirable digest of the Life and Doctrines of Wycliffe, well worthy of the cause of which the reformer was the meek but dauntless champion, and of the man whose memory the hearers of that Sermon met to honour! A few years ago,' the Rev. J. Hampden Gurney writes to me, we erected a monument to the Memory of Wycliffe, with the assistance of many persons, bishops, judges, and others elsewhere, consisting of a bold relief, representing Wycliffe preaching from the open Bible to a group of attentive listeners, while on the opposite side two friars are looking fearful things at the plain speaking parson. It was executed by Westmacott, * A Sermon preached in Lutterworth Church, on Wednesday, Dec. 20, 1837, upon occasion of the erection of a monument to the Memory of Wycliffe. By the Rev. J. H. Gurney, M. A., Curate of Lutterworth.-Published by Hamilton and Adams, London. 26 LUTTERWORTH. Jun. The inscription is from the pen of the Rev. M. Le Bas: Sacred TO THE MEMORY OF JOHN WICLIF, THE EARLIEST CHAMPION OF ECCLESIASTICAL REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. HE WAS BORN, A. D. 1324; PRESENTED TO THE RECTORY OF LUTTERWORTH. A.D. 1375, WHERE HE DIED ON THE 31st of decemBER, 1384. At Oxford, he acquired not only the fame of a consummate Schoolman, but the far more glorious title of Evangelic Doc- tor.' His life was one impetuous struggle against the en- croachments and corruptions of the Papal Court, and the impostures of its devoted Auxiliaries, the mendicant fraterni- ties. His labours in the cause of Scriptural truth were crowned with one immortal achievement, his translation of the Bible into the English tongue. This mighty work drew on him, indeed, the bitter hatred of all who were making merchandize of the popular credulity and ignorance; but he found an abun- dant reward in the blessings of his countrymen of every rank and age, to whom he unfolded the words of eternal life. His mortal remains were buried near this spot; but they were not allowed to rest in peace. After the lapse of many years, they were dragged from the grave, and committed to the flames; and his ashes were cast into the waters of the adjoining stream.* Most heartily do I respond to the recommendation, of one * In speaking of the Pastors of Lutterworth I must not forget to mention that this parish was the sphere of the ministry of that truly "Gospel Doc- tor," Bishop Ryder, almost from the time of his taking holy orders, till he was made Bishop of Gloucester. LUTTERWORTH. 27 I whose venerated name must be loved by all who love the pure scriptural faith of the Church of England, the Rev. Edward Bickersteth,* Let EACH PLACE WHERE THE MARTYRS SUFFERED RAISE A LASTING MEMORIAL, to shew their children, and lead them to inquire into the principles and actions of those to whom under God, we are so deeply indebted for our present privileges and blessings,-an Ebenezer of help which may strengthen us in holding fast the lively truths of God's word.' Here then it was, in this quiet fold, that that faithful ser- vant of Christ, John Wycliffe proved so good a shepherd to the flock which his master had committed to his charge. Those who had seen him only in this retired country town, meekly adorning in his daily practice, the heavenly doctrine which he set forth in such good old Saxon English on the Sun- day, so that he might be understanded' of the plain people to whom he preached-those that had heard him simplifying after the gospel plan of glorious plainness, the eternal truths of God's word to the lowliest of his flock, sitting beside the bed of the sick and the dying, and pleading with them for their perishing souls from the word of inspiration, in their native tongue, and thus becoming to the most unlettered pea- sant, an ambassador for Christ; and then kneeling in prayer, and pleading meekly for a blessing on the words which he had spoken-those that had seen him there and then, might never have supposed, that in that 'poor parson of a country town,' they beheld the skilful doctor of the schools, unrivalled in scholastic divinity, and able to vanquish in argument the most renowned scholars of his times. Thus Fuller speaks of his residence in Oxford. As for this our Wycliffe, history at the very first meets with him a man full grown, yea, a graduate * See his preface to the English Martyrology.—Published by Seeleys. 28 LUTTERWORTH. of Merton College in Oxford. The fruitful soil of his natural parts he had industriously improved by acquired knowledge, not only skilled in the fashionable acts of that age, and in that abstruse, crabbed, divinity, all whose fruit is thorns, but also well versed in the Scriptures; a rare accomplishment in those dayes. His public acts in the schools he kept with great approbation, though the echo of his popular applause sounded the alarum to awaken the envy of his enemies against him." "The faculties of this eminent scholar were surrendered to the cold occupation of legal enquiries, and to that world of subtle questions which had been created by the schoolmen. But a complete knowledge of the ground and tactics of the enemy was not to be obtained at less hazard, or at less cost; and such pursuits would enable Wycliffe to unite serenity with ardour, and profound caution with daring enterprise.” * Seven years he lived in Oxford, filling a professor's chair during the week, and a preacher's pulpit on the Sunday. "On the week-days,” says Fuller, "in the schools proving to the learned what he meant to preach; and on the Lord's day, preaching in the pulpit what he had learned before; not unlike those builders in the second Temple, holding a sword in one hand and a trowel in the other, his disputing making his preaching to be strong, his preaching making his disputation to be plain." Of how great importance was such a professor, such a teacher, and such a preacher to the first University of the realm as Oxford then was, one who was a match for the most learned there in all the subtleties of Scholastic Divinity, and who was able to clear the Gospel Pearl from the heaps of rub- * Vaughan. LUTTERWORTH. 29 I bish, by which he found it smothered, and to hold it forth in its unsullied lustre as that one great treasure as freely offered to all, as it is really needed by all. Latin being then the common and conventional language of the scholar, the Univer- sity was filled not merely by the youth of England, but by students from all parts of Europe. The mendicant friars were then swarming through the land, outwardly disavowing the luxury and avarice of the Monks; but, with some right views of doctrine, their teaching was generally error, their lives vici- ous and corrupt; they presented to imprisonment and even to death, all whom they found not of their order; " travelling to sow God's word among the people," and while they railed to the extortions of other ecclesiastics, they scrupled not to secure, by begging, the same spoil for themselves. These men made use of the mighty engine of preaching, to arrest the attention and captivate the affections of the people, and went everywhere preaching, but alas, not the pure Gospel of the inspired word, but the vain traditions, and absurd legions of superstition. ઃઃ Wycliffe was fully pursuaded of the high importance of preaching. He was admirably fitted for this glorious calling, which he followed with such wonderful success. The crying sins of his country had drawn down, not long before that time, the most awful calamities from God; a pestilence of frightful and fatal character, such as has scarcely been known in the annals of the world, ravaged every part of Europe. It had continued for two years spreading from place to place, while earthquakes succeeded one after another. And at last, the plague had reached the shores of England. Heavy rains had fallen with scarce any intermission, from June to December, and in the August of the following year the pestilence broke 30 LUTTERWORTH. out at Dorchester, and raged every where with dreadful viru- lence. Wycliffe had been spared in this awful visitation, and the impression made upon him by the severity and goodness of of God was deep and abiding. He stood forth as one who had been saved from the heavy wrath and hot displeasure of God, to warn others out of the heartfelt conviction of his own bosom, to flee from the wrath to come. All the advantages of knowledge and learning which the mendicants possessed, abounded in him. Above all, he was deeply versed in Holy Scripture. He was a man of prayer, and felt, to use his own words, that he "needed the internal instruction of a primary teacher." He knew the value of an immortal soul, and the peril of the faithless or slothful teacher. "There is," said he, "manslaughter of negligence or carelessness, of which God speaketh by His prophet to each curate or priest. If thou speakest not to the people, that a wicked man keep from his evil way, he shall die in his wickedness. I will seek his blood at thy hand.' """ Like a distinguished prelate of our Church, the present Bishop of Ossory, Wycliffe gave to preaching the first place of all the labours of the ministry. "Most of all," he says, Again he writes, "The high-