History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century
Chapter 237 : [Sidenote: THE PERSECUTION BEGINS.]Persecution soon came. Just as the sun appeared to

[Sidenote: THE PERSECUTION BEGINS.]

Persecution soon came. Just as the sun appeared to be rising on the Reformation, the storm burst forth. "There was not a stone the bishops left unremoved," says the chronicler, "any corner unsearched, for the diligent execution of the king's proclamation; whereupon ensued a grievous persecution and slaughter of the faithful."[1108]

[1108] Foxe, iv. p. 679.

Thomas. .h.i.tton, a poor and pious minister of Kent, used to go frequently to Antwerp to purchase New Testaments. As he was returning from one of these expeditions, in 1529, the bishop of Rochester caused him to be arrested at Gravesend, and put to the cruelest tortures, to make him deny his faith.[1109] But the martyr repeated with holy enthusiasm: "Salvation cometh by faith and not by works, and Christ giveth it to whomsoever he willeth."[1110] On the 20th of February 1530, he was tied to the stake and there burnt to death.[1111]

[1109] Dieted and tormented him secretly. Tyndale's Works, vol. i. p.

485.

[1110] For the constant and manifest testimony of Jesus Christ and of his free grace and salvation. Foxe, vol. iv. p. 619.

[1111] The bishops murdered him most cruelly. Tyndale, vol i. p. 485.

[Sidenote: BAYFIELD IMPORTS THE NEW TESTAMENT.]

Scarcely were Hitton's sufferings ended for bringing the Scriptures into England, when a vessel laden with New Testaments arrived at Colchester. The indefatigable Bayfield, who accompanied these books, sold them in London, went back to the continent, and returned to England in November; but this time the Scriptures fell into the hands of Sir Thomas More. Bayfield, undismayed, again visited the Low Countries, and soon reappeared, bringing with him the New Testament and the works of almost all the Reformers. "How cometh it that there are so many New Testaments from abroad?" asked Tonstall of Packington; "you promised me that you would buy them all."--"They have printed more since," replied the wily merchant; "and it will never be better so long as they have letters and stamps [types and dies]. My lord, you had better buy the stamps too, and so you shall be sure."[1112]

[1112] Foxe, vol. iv. p. 670.

Instead of the stamps, the priests sought after Bayfield. The bishop of London could not endure this G.o.dly man. Having one day asked Bainham (who afterwards suffered martyrdom) whether he knew _a single individual_ who, since the days of the apostles, had lived according to the true faith in Jesus Christ, the latter answered: "Yes, I know Bayfield."[1113] Being tracked from place to place, he fled from the house of his pious hostess, and hid himself at his binder's, where he was discovered, and thrown into the Lollard's tower.[1114]

[1113] Ibid. p. 699.

[1114] Ibid. p. 681.

As he entered the prison, Bayfield noticed a priest named Patmore, pale, weakened by suffering, and ready to sink under the ill-treatment of his jailers. Patmore, won over by Bayfield's piety, soon opened his heart to him. When rector of Haddam, he had found the truth in Wickliffe's writings. "They have burnt his bones," he said, "but from his ashes shall burst forth a well-spring of life."[1115] Delighting in good works, he used to fill his granaries with wheat, and when the markets were high, he would send his corn to them in such abundance as to bring down the prices.[1116] "It is contrary to the law of G.o.d to burn heretics," he said; and growing bolder, he added: "I care no more for the pope's curse than for a bundle of hay."[1117]

[1115] Ibid vol. v. p. 34.

[1116] Ibid. vol. iv. p. 681.

[1117] Ibid.

His curate, Simon Smith, unwilling to imitate the disorderly lives of the priests, and finding Joan Bennore, the rector's servant, to be a discreet and pious person, desired to marry her. "G.o.d," said Patmore, "has declared marriage lawful for _all men_; and accordingly it is permitted to the priests in foreign parts."[1118] The rector alluded to Wittemberg, where he had visited Luther. After his marriage Smith and his wife quitted England for a season, and Patmore accompanied them as far as London.

[1118] Yet it was in other countries beyond sea. Foxe, vol iv. p. 681.

The news of this marriage of a priest--a fact without precedent in England--made Stokesley throw Patmore into the Lollards' tower, and although he was ill, neither fire, light, nor any other comfort was granted him. The bishop and his vicar-general visited him alone in his prison, and endeavoured by their threats to make him deny his faith.

[Sidenote: BAYFIELD IN THE COAL-CELLAR.]

It was during these circ.u.mstances that Bayfield was thrust into the tower. By his Christian words he revived Patmore's languis.h.i.+ng faith,[1119] and the latter complained to the king that the bishop of London prevented his feeding the flock which G.o.d had committed to his charge. Stokesley, comprehending whence Patmore derived his new courage,[1120] removed Bayfield from the Lollards' tower, and shut him up in the coal-house, where he was fastened upright to the wall by the neck, middle, and legs.[1121] The unfortunate gospeller of Bury pa.s.sed his time in continual darkness, never lying down, never seated, but nailed as it were to the wall, and never hearing the sound of human voice. We shall see him hereafter issuing from this horrible prison to die on the scaffold.

[1119] Confirmed by him in the doctrine. Ibid.

[1120] Ibid.

[1121] Ibid.

Patmore was not the only one in his family who suffered persecution; he had in London a brother named Thomas, a friend of John Tyndale, the younger brother of the celebrated reformer. Thomas had said that the truth of Scripture was at last reappearing in the world, after being hidden for many ages;[1122] and John Tyndale had sent five marks to his brother William, and received letters from him. Moreover, the two friends (who were both tradesmen) had distributed a great number of Testaments and other works. But their faith was not deeply rooted, and it was more out of sympathy for their brothers that they had believed; accordingly, Stokesley so completely entangled them, that they confessed their "crime." More, delighted at the opportunity which offered to cover the name of Tyndale with shame, was not satisfied with condemning the two friends to pay a fine of 100 each; he invented a new disgrace. He sewed on their dress some sheets of the New Testament which they had circulated, placed the two penitents on horseback with their faces towards the tail, and thus paraded them through the streets of London, exposed to the jeers and laughter of the populace. In this, More succeeded better than in his refutation of the reformer's writings.

[1122] Ibid. vol. v. p. 34.

[Sidenote: EDWARD FREESE GOES MAD.]

From that time the persecution became more violent. Husbandmen, artists, tradespeople, and even n.o.blemen, felt the cruel fangs of the clergy and of Sir Thomas More. They sent to jail a pious musician who used to wander from town to town, singing to his harp a hymn in commendation of Martin Luther and of the Reformation.[1123] A painter, named Edward Freese, a young man of ready wit, having been engaged to paint some hangings in a house, wrote on the borders certain sentences of the Scripture. For this he was seized and taken to the bishop of London's palace at Fulham, and there imprisoned, where his chief nourishment was bread made out of sawdust.[1124] His poor wife, who was pregnant, went down to Fulham to see her husband; but the bishop's porter had orders to admit no one, and the brute gave her so violent a kick, as to kill her unborn infant, and cause the mother's death not long after. The unhappy Freese was removed to the Lollards' tower, where he was put into chains, his hands only being left free. With these he took a piece of coal, and wrote some pious sentences on the wall: upon this he was manacled; but his wrists were so severely pinched, that the flesh grew up higher than the irons. His intellect became disturbed; his hair in wild disorder soon covered his face, through which his eyes glared fierce and haggard. The want of proper food, bad treatment, his wife's death, and his lengthened imprisonment, entirely undermined his reason. When brought to St.

Paul's, he was kept three days without meat; and when he appeared before the consistory the poor prisoner, silent and scarce able to stand, looked around and gazed upon the spectators, "like a wild man."

The examination was begun, but to every question put to him Freese made the same answer: "My Lord is a good man." They could get nothing from him but this affecting reply. Alas! the light shone no more upon his understanding, but the love of Jesus was still in his heart. He was sent back to Bearsy Abbey, where he did not remain long; but he never entirely recovered his reason.[1125] Henry VIII and his priests inflicted punishments still more cruel even than the stake.

[1123] His name was Robert Lambe. Foxe, vol. v. p. 34.

[1124] Fed with fine manchet made of sawdust, or at least a great part thereof. Ibid. iv. p. 625.

[1125] Foxe, iv, p. 695.

[Sidenote: AGITATION IN EXETER.]

Terror began to spread far and wide. The most active evangelists had been compelled to flee to a foreign land; some of the most G.o.dly were in prison; and among those in high station there were many, and perhaps Latimer was one, who seemed willing to shelter themselves under an exaggerated moderation. But just as the persecution in London had succeeded in silencing the most timid, other voices more courageous were raised in the provinces. The city of Exeter was at that time in great agitation; placards had been discovered on the gates of the cathedral containing some of the principles "of the new doctrine." While the mayor and his officers were seeking after the author of these "blasphemies," the bishop and all his doctors, "as hot as coals," says the chronicler,[1126] were preaching in the most fiery style. On the following Sunday, during the sermon, two men who had been the busiest of all the city in searching for the author of the bills, were struck by the appearance of a person seated near them.

"Surely, this fellow is the heretic," they said. But their neighbour's devotion, for he did not take his eyes off his book, quite put them out; they did not perceive that he was reading the New Testament in Latin.

[1126] Ibid. v. p. 19.

This man, Thomas Bennet, was indeed the offender. Being converted at Cambridge by the preaching of Bilney, whose friend he was, he had gone to Torrington for fear of the persecution, and thence to Exeter, and after marrying to avoid unchast.i.ty (as he says)[1127] he became schoolmaster. Quiet, humble, courteous to every body, and somewhat timid, Bennet had lived six years in that city without his faith being discovered. At last his conscience being awakened he resolved to fasten by night to the cathedral gates certain evangelical placards.

"Every body will read the writing," he thought, "and n.o.body will know the writer." He did as he had proposed.

[1127] Ut ne scortator aut immundus essem, uxorem duxi. Foxe, v. p.

19.

[Sidenote: THE GREAT CURSE.]

Not long after the Sunday on which he had been so nearly discovered, the priests prepared a great pageant, and made ready to p.r.o.nounce against the unknown heretic the great curse "with book, bell, and candle." The cathedral was crowded, and Bennet himself was among the spectators. In the middle stood a great cross on which lighted tapers were placed, and around it were gathered all the Franciscans and Dominicans of Exeter. One of the priests having delivered a sermon on the words: _There is an accursed thing in the midst of thee, O Israel_,[1128] the bishop drew near the cross and p.r.o.nounced the curse against the offender. He took one of the tapers and said: "Let the soul of the unknown heretic, if he be dead already, be quenched this night in the pains of h.e.l.l-fire, as this candle is now quenched and put out;" and with that he put out the candle. Then, taking off a second, he continued: "and let us pray to G.o.d, if he be yet alive, that his eyes be put out, and that all the senses of his body may fail him, as now the light of this candle is gone;" extinguis.h.i.+ng the second candle. After this, one of the priests went up to the cross and struck it, when the noise it made in falling re-echoing along the roof, so frightened the spectators that they uttered a shriek of terror, and held up their hands to heaven, as if to pray that the divine curse might not fall on them. Bennet, a witness of this comedy, could not forbear smiling. "What are you laughing at?" asked his neighbours; "here is the heretic, here is the heretic, hold him fast."

This created great confusion among the crowd, some shouting, some clapping their hands, others running to and fro; but, owing to the tumult, Bennet succeeded in making his escape.

[1128] Joshua, vii. 12.

The excommunication did but increase his desire to attack the Romish superst.i.tions; and accordingly, before five o'clock the next morning (it was in the month of October 1530,) his servant-boy fastened up again by his orders on the cathedral gates some placards similar to those which had been torn down. It chanced that a citizen going to early ma.s.s saw the boy, and running up to him, caught hold of him and pulled down the papers; and then dragging the boy with the one hand, and with the placards in the other, he went to the mayor of the city.

Bennet's servant was recognised; his master was immediately arrested, and put in the stocks, "with as much favour as a dog would find," says Foxe.

[Sidenote: BENNET'S MARTYRDOM.]

Exeter seemed determined to make itself the champion of sacerdotalism in England. For a whole week, not only the bishop, but all the priests and friars of the city, visited Bennet night and day. But they tried in vain to prove to him that the Roman church, was the true one. "G.o.d has given me grace to be of a better church," he said.--"Do you not know that ours is built upon St. Peter?"--"The church that is built upon a man," he replied, "is the devil's church and not G.o.d's." His cell was continually thronged with visitors; and, in default of arguments, the most ignorant of the friars called the prisoner a heretic, and spat upon him. At length they brought to him a learned doctor of theology, who, they supposed, would infallibly convert him.

"Our ways are G.o.d's ways," said the doctor gravely. But he soon discovered that theologians can do nothing against the word of the Lord. "He only is my way," replied Bennet, "who saith, _I am the way, the truth, and the life_. In his _way_ will I walk;--his _truth_ will I embrace;--his everlasting _life_ will I seek."

He was condemned to be burnt; and More having transmitted the order _de comburendo_ with the utmost speed, the priests placed Bennet in the hands of the sheriff on the 15th of January, 1531, by whom he was conducted to the Livery-dole, a field without the city, where the stake was prepared. When Bennet arrived at the place of execution, he briefly exhorted the people, but with such unction, that the sheriff's clerk, as he heard him, exclaimed: "Truly this is a servant of G.o.d."

Two persons, however, seemed unmoved: they were Thomas Carew and John Barnehouse, both holding the station of gentlemen. Going up to the martyr, they exclaimed in a threatening voice: "Say, _Precor sanctam Mariam et omnes sanctos Dei_."--"I know no other advocate but Jesus Christ," replied Bennet. Barnehouse was so enraged at these words, that he took a furze-bush upon a pike, and setting it on fire, thrust it into the martyr's face, exclaiming: "Accursed heretic, pray to our Lady, or I will make you do it."--"Alas!" replied Bennet patiently, "trouble me not;" and then holding up his hands, he prayed: "Father, forgive them!" The executioners immediately set fire to the wood, and the most fanatical of the spectators, both men and women, seized with an indescribable fury, tore up stakes and bushes, and whatever they could lay their hands on, and flung them all into the flames to increase their violence. Bennet, lifting up his eyes to heaven, exclaimed: "Lord, receive my spirit." Thus died, in the sixteenth century, the disciples of the Reformation sacrificed by Henry VIII.

[Sidenote: JOHN PEt.i.t, M. P. FOR LONDON.]