VII. CATHERINE HOWARD, A CATHOLIC QUEEN
(1540.)
Who should take the place of the repudiated queen? This was the question discussed at court and in the town. The Anglican Catholics, delighted at the dismissal of the Protestant queen, were determined to do all they possibly could to place on the throne a woman of their own party. Such a one was already found. The bishop of Winchester, for some time past, had frequently been holding feasts and entertainments for the king. To these he invited a young lady, who though of small stature was of elegant carriage, and had handsome features and a graceful figure and manners.[371] She was a daughter of Lord Edmund Howard, and niece of the duke of Norfolk, the leader of the Catholic party. She had very soon attracted the attention of the king, who took increasing pleasure in her society. This occurred before the divorce of Anne. 'It is a certain fact,' says a contemporary, 'that about the same time many citizens of London saw the king very frequently in the daytime, and sometimes at midnight, pass over to her on the river Thames in a little boat.... The citizens regarded all this not as a sign of divorcing the queen, but of adultery.'[372] Whether this supposition was well founded or not we can not say. The king, when once he had decided on a separation from Anne of Cleves, had thought of her successor. He was quite determined, after his mischance, to be guided neither by his ministers, nor by his ambassadors, nor by political considerations, but solely by his own eyes, his own tastes, and the happiness he might hope for. Catherine pleased him very much; and his union with Anne was no sooner annulled than he proceeded to his fifth marriage. The nuptials were celebrated on the 8th of August, eleven days after the execution of Cromwell; and on the same day Catherine was presented at court as queen. The king was charmed with Catherine Howard, his pretty young wife; she was so amiable, her intercourse was so pleasant, that he believed he had, after so many more or less unfortunate attempts, found his ideal at last. Her virtuous sentiments, the good behavior which she resolved to maintain, filled him with delight; and he was ever expressing his happiness in 'having obtained such a jewel of womanhood.'[373] He had no foreboding of the terrible blow which was soon to shatter all this happiness.
[Sidenote: THE NEW QUEEN.]
The new queen was distinguished from the former chiefly by the difference in religion, with a corresponding difference in morality. The niece of the duke of Norfolk, Gardiner's friend, was of course an adherent of the Catholic faith; and the Catholic party hailed her as at once the symbol and the instrument of reaction. They had had plenty of Protestant queens, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, and Anne of Cleves. Now that they had a Catholic queen, Catholicism--many said popery--would recover its power. Henry was so much enamored of his new spouse that, in honor of her, he once more became a fervent Catholic. He celebrated all the Saints' days, frequently received the holy sacrament, and offered publicly thanksgiving to God for this happy union which he hoped to enjoy for a long time.[374] The conversion of Henry, for the change was nothing less, brought with it a change of policy. He now abandoned France and the German Protestants in order to ally himself with the empire; and we find him ere long busily engaged in a project for the marriage of his daughter Mary to the emperor Charles V. This project, however, came to nothing.[375] Gardiner, Norfolk, and the other leaders of the Catholic party, rejoicing in the breeze which bore their vessel onward, set all sails to the wind. Just after the divorce of Anne of Cleves, and by way of a first boon to the Romish party, the penalties for impure living imposed on priests and nuns were mitigated.[376] In contempt of the authority of Holy Scripture as well as of that of parliament itself, Henry got an Act passed by virtue of which every determination concerning faith, worship, and ceremonies, adopted with the sanction of the king by a commission of archbishops, bishops, and other ecclesiastics nominated by him, was to be received, believed, and observed by the whole nation, just as if parliament had approved every one of these articles, even if this decree were contrary to former usages and ordinances.[377] This was a proclamation of infallibility in England for the benefit of the pope-king, under cover of which he might found a religion to his own taste. Cranmer had established in all cathedral churches professors entrusted with the teaching of Hebrew and Greek, in order that students might become well acquainted with sacred literature, and that the church might never want ministers capable of edifying it. But the enemies of the Reformation, who now enjoyed royal favor, fettered or abolished this institution and other similar ones, to the great damage both of religion and the country.[378] The Catholic ceremonies, on the other hand, abrogated by Cranmer and Cromwell--the consecration of bread and of water, the embers with which the priest marked the foreheads of the faithful, the palm branches blessed on Palm Sunday, the tapers carried at Candlemas, and other like customs--were re-established; and penalties were imposed on those who should neglect them.[379] A new edition of the 'Institution of a Christian Man' explained to the people the king's doctrine. It treated of the seven sacraments, the mass, transubstantiation, the salutation of the Virgin, and other doctrines of the kind to which conformity was required.[380] At length, as if with a view to ensure the permanence of this system, Bonner was made bishop of London; and this man, who had been the most abject flatterer and servant of Cromwell during his life, turned about after his death and became the persecutor of those whom Cromwell had protected.
[Sidenote: BONNER, BISHOP OF LONDON.]
At the spectacle of this reaction, so marvellous in their eyes, the Anglican Catholics and even the papists broke out with joy, and awaited with impatience 'the crowning of the edifice.' England, in their view, was saved. The church was triumphant. But while there was rejoicing on the one side, there was mourning on the other. The establishment of superstitious practices, the prospect of the penalties contained in the bloody statute of the Six Articles, penalties which had not yet been enforced but were on the point of being so, spread distress and alarm among the evangelicals. Those who did not add to their faith manly energy shut up their convictions in their own breasts, carefully abstained from conversation on religious subjects, and looked with suspicion upon every stranger, fearing that he might be one of Gardiner's spies.
Bonner was active and eager, going forward in pursuit of his object and allowing nothing to check him. Cromwell and Cranmer, to whom he used to make fair professions, believed that he was capable of being of service to the Reformation, and therefore gave him promotion in ecclesiastical offices. But no sooner had Cromwell been put in prison than his signal deceitfulness showed itself. Grafton, who printed the Bible under the patronage of the vicegerent, having met Bonner, to whom Cromwell had introduced him, exclaimed, 'How grieved I am to hear that Lord Cromwell has been sent to the Tower!' 'It would have been much better,' replied Bonner, 'if he had been sent there long ago.' Shortly after, Grafton was cited before the council, and was accused of having printed, by Cromwell's order, certain suspected verses; and Bonner, for the purpose of aggravating his criminality, did not fail to report what the accused had said to him about the man who had been his own personal benefactor. The chancellor, however, a friend of Grafton, succeeded in saving the printer of the Bible. Bonner indemnified himself for this disappointment by persecuting a great many citizens of London. He vented his rage especially on a poor youth of fifteen, ignorant and uncultivated, named Mekins, whom he accused of having spoken against the Eucharist and in favor of Barnes; but the grand jury found him 'not guilty.' Hereupon Bonner became furious. 'You are perjured,' he said to the jury. 'The witnesses do not agree,' they replied. The one deposed that Mekins had said the sacrament was nothing but a 'ceremony'; and the other that it was nothing but a 'signification.' 'But did he not say,' exclaimed the bishop, 'that Barnes died holy?' 'But we can not find these words,' said the jury, 'to be against the statute.' 'Upon which Bonner cursed and was in a great rage.'[381] 'Retire again,' he said, 'consult together, and bring in the bill.' Mekins was condemned to die. In vain was it shown that he was a poor ignorant creature and that he had done nothing worse than repeat what he had heard, and this without even understanding it. In vain, too, did his father and mother, who were in great distress, attempt to mitigate the harsh treatment to which he was subjected in prison. The poor lad was ready to say or do any thing to escape being burnt. They made him speak well of Bonner and of his 'great charity towards him'; they made him declare that he hated all heretics, and then they burnt him.[382] This was only the beginning and Bonner hoped by such proceedings to prepare the way for greater triumphs.
[Sidenote: PERSECUTION IN LONDON.]
The persecution became more general. Two hundred and two persons were prosecuted in thirty-nine London parishes. Their offences were such as the following--having read the Holy Scriptures aloud in the churches; having refused to carry palm branches on Palm Sunday; having had one or other of their kinsfolk buried without the masses for the dead; having received Latimer, Barnes, Garret, or other evangelicals; having held religious meetings in their houses of an evening; having said that the holy sacrament was a good thing, but was not, as some asserted, God himself; having spoken much about the Holy Scriptures; having declared that they liked better to hear a sermon than a mass; and other the like offences. Among the delinquents were some of the priests. One of these was accused of having caused suspected persons to be invited to his sermons by his beadle, without having the bells rung; another of having preached without the orders of his superior; others, of not making use of holy water, of not going in procession, &c.[383]
The Inquisition which was made at this time was so rigorous that all the prisons of London would not hold the accused. They had to place some of them in the halls of various buildings. The case was embarrassing. The Catholics of the court were not alone in instigating the king to persecution. Francis I. sent word to him by Wallop, 'that it had well liked him to hear that his majesty was reforming the Lutheran sect, for that he was ever of opinion that no good could come of them but much evil.'[384] But there were other influences at court besides that of Francis I., Norfolk, and Gardiner. Lord Audley obtained the king's sanction for the release of the prisoners, who, however, had to give their promise to appear at the Star Chamber on All Souls' Day. Ultimately they were let alone.
But this does not mean that all the evangelicals were spared. Two ministers were at this time distinguished both for their high connections and for their faith and eloquence. One of these was the Scotchman, Seaton, chaplain to the duke of Suffolk. Preaching powerfully at St. Antholin's church, in London, he said,--'"Of ourselves we can do nothing," says St. Paul; "I pray thee, then, where is thy will? Art thou better than Paul, James, Peter, and all the apostles?" Hast thou any more grace than they? Tell me now if they will be any thing or nothing?... Paul said he could do nothing.... If you ask me when we will leave preaching only Christ, even when they do leave to preach that works do merit, and suffer Christ to be a whole satisfier and only mean to our justification.' Seaton was condemned to bear a faggot at Paul's Cross.[385] Another minister, Dr. Crome, was a learned man and a favorite of the archbishop. This did not prevent the king from commanding him to preach that the sacrifice of the mass is useful both for the living and the dead. Crome preached the Gospel in its simplicity at St. Paul's on the appointed day, and contented himself with reading the king's order after the sermon. He was immediately forbidden to preach.[386]
Laymen were treated with greater severity. Bibles, it is known, had been placed in all the churches, and were fastened by chains to the pillars. A crowd of people used to gather about one of these pillars. On one occasion a young man of fine figure, possessed of great zeal, and gifted with a powerful voice, stood near the pillar holding the Bible in his hands, and reading it aloud so that all might hear him. His name was Porter. Bonner sharply rebuked him. 'I trust I have done nothing against the law,' said Porter; and this was true. But the bishop committed him to Newgate. There this young Christian was put in irons; his legs, his arms, and his head were attached to the wall by means of an iron collar. One of his kinsmen, by a gift of money, induced the jailer to deliver him from this punishment; and the favor they accorded him was to place him in the company of thieves and murderers. Porter exhorted them to repent, and taught them the way of salvation. The unhappy man was then cast into the deepest dungeon, was cruelly treated, and loaded with irons. Eight days afterwards he died. Cries and groans had been heard in the night. Some said that he had been subjected to the torture called the devil, a horrible instrument by which, in three or four hours, the back and the whole body were torn in pieces.[387]
[Sidenote: CONSPIRACY AGAINST CRANMER.]
Meanwhile, a far more formidable blow was preparing. Cromwell, the lay protector of the Reformation, had already been sacrificed; its ecclesiastical protector, Cranmer, must now fall in the same way. This second blow seemed easier than the first. Since the fall of Cromwell, men of the utmost moderation thought 'there was no hope that reformed religion should any one week longer stand.'[388] All those of feeble character sided with the opposite party. Cranmer alone, amongst the bishops and the ecclesiastical commissioners of the king, still upheld evangelical truth. This obstacle in the way of the extension of English Catholicism must be utterly overthrown. A commission of from ten to twelve bishops and other competent men was formed to deliberate as to the means of inducing the primate to make common cause with them. Two bishops, Heath and Skyp, who enjoyed his confidence, 'left him in the plain field.'[389] All these bishops and laymen, proud of their victory, met at Lambeth palace, the abode of Cranmer, in order to prosecute their scheme. After a few words exchanged to no purpose, the two last-named bishops begged the archbishop to go down with them into the garden, and there, as they paced up and down the paths, they plied him with such reasons as they thought most urgent to induce him 'to leave off his overmuch constancy and to incline unto the king's intent.' One or two friends of the primate joined them, and they made use of all the resources of their eloquence and their policy for the purpose of shaking his resolution. But Cranmer was like the river which flowed quietly past his dwelling, which nothing can turn from its course. He even took the offensive. 'You make much ado to have me come to your purpose,' said he; ... 'beware, I say, what you do. There is but one truth in our articles to be concluded upon, which if you do hide from his highness ... and then when the truth can not be hidden from him, his highness shall perceive how that you have dealt colorably with him ... he will never after trust and credit you.... As you are both my friends, so therefore I will you to beware thereof in time, and discharge your consciences in maintenance of the truth.'[390]
[Sidenote: CHARGES AGAINST HIM.]
This was far from pacifying the bishops. Doctor London and other agents of the party which looked up to Gardiner as its head, took in hand to go over the diocese of the archbishop with a view to collecting all the sayings and all the facts, true or false, which they might turn to account as weapons against him. In one place a conversation was reported to them; in another a sermon was denounced; elsewhere neglected ritual was talked about. 'Three of the preachers of the cathedral church,' they were told, namely, Ridley, Drum and Scory, 'are attacking the ceremonies of the church.' Some of the canons, opponents of the primate, brought various charges against him, and strove to depict his marriage in the most repulsive colors. Sir John Gostwick, whose accounts as treasurer of war and of the court were not correct, accused Cranmer before the parliament of being the pastor of heretics. All these grievances were set forth in a memorial which was presented to the king. At the same time, the most influential members of the privy council declared to the king that the realm was infested with heresies; that thereby 'horrible commotions and uproars' might spring up, as had been the case in Germany; and that these calamities must be chiefly imputed to the archbishop of Canterbury, who both by his own preaching and that of his chaplains had filled England with pernicious doctrines. 'Who is his accuser?' said the king. The lords replied: 'Forasmuch as Cranmer is a councillor, no man durst take upon him to accuse him. But if it please your highness to commit him to the Tower for a time, there would be accusations and proofs enough against him.' 'Well then,' said the king, 'I grant you leave to commit him to-morrow to the Tower for his trial.' The enemies of the archbishop and of the Reformation went away well content.[391]
Meanwhile, Henry VIII. began to reflect on the answer which he had given to his councillors. There is nothing to show that it was not made in earnest; but he foresaw that Cranmer's death would leave an awkward void. When Cranmer was gone, how should he maintain the conflict with the pope and the papists, with whom he had no mind to be reconciled? The primate's character and services came back to his memory. Time was passing. At midnight the king, unable to sleep, sent for Sir Antony Denny and said to him, 'Go to Lambeth and command the archbishop to come forthwith to the court.' Henry then in a state of excitement, began to walk about in one of the corridors of the palace, awaiting the arrival of Cranmer. At length the primate entered and the king said to him: 'Ah, my lord of Canterbury, I can tell you news.... It is determined by me and the council, that you to-morrow at nine o'clock shall be committed to the Tower, for that you and your chaplains (as information is given us) have taught and preached, and thereby sown within the realm such a number of execrable heresies, that it is feared the whole realm being infected with them no small contentions and commotions will rise thereby amongst my subjects, ... and therefore the council have requested me, for the trial of this matter, to suffer them to commit you to the Tower.'
[Sidenote: THE KING'S INTERVENTION.]
The story of Cromwell was to be repeated, and this was the first step. Nevertheless, Cranmer did not utter a word of opposition or supplication. Kneeling down before the king, according to his custom, he said: 'I am content, if it please your grace, with all my heart to go thither at your highness's commandment, and I most humbly thank your majesty that I may come to my trial, for there be that have many ways slandered me, and now this way I hope to try myself not worthy of such a report.' The king, touched by his uprightness, said: 'Oh Lord, what manner of man be you! What simplicity is in you!... Do you not know... how many great enemies you have? Do you consider what an easy thing it is to procure three or four false knaves to witness against you? Think you to have better luck that way than Christ your master had? I see it, you will run headlong to your undoing, if I would suffer you. Your enemies shall not so prevail against you, for I have otherwise devised with myself to keep you out of their hands. Yet, notwithstanding, to-morrow when the council shall sit and send for you, resort unto them; and if in charging you with this matter they do commit you to the Tower, require of them... that you may have your accusers brought before them and that you may answer their accusations.... If no entreaty or reasonable request will serve, then deliver unto them this ring'--the king at the same time delivered his ring to the archbishop--'and say unto them: If there be no remedy, my lords, but that I must needs go to the Tower, then I revoke my cause from you and appeal to the king's own person by this his token to you all. So soon as they shall see this my ring, they know it so well, that they shall understand that I have resumed the whole cause into mine own hands.' The archbishop was so much moved by the king's kindness that he 'had much ado to forbear tears.' 'Well,' said the king, 'go your ways, my lord, and do as I have bidden you.'[392] The archbishop bent his knee in expression of his gratitude, and taking leave of the king returned to Lambeth before day.
On the morrow, about nine o'clock, the council sent an usher of the palace to summon the archbishop. He set out forthwith and presented himself at the door of the council chamber. But his colleagues, glad to complete the work which they had begun by putting the vicegerent to death, were not content with sending the primate to the scaffold; but were determined to subject Cranmer to various humiliations before the final catastrophe. The archbishop could not be let in, but was compelled to wait there among the pages, lackeys, and other serving-men. Doctor Butts, the king's physician, happening to pass through the room, and observing how the archbishop was treated, went to the king and said: 'My lord of Canterbury, if it please your grace, is well promoted; for now he is become a lackey or a serving-man, for yonder he standeth this half hour without the council-chamber door amongst them.' 'It is not so,' said the king, 'I trow, nor the council hath not so little discretion as to use the metropolitan of the realm in that sort, especially being one of their own number; but let them alone, and we shall hear more soon.'
At length the archbishop was admitted. He did as the king had bidden him: and when he saw that none of his statements or reasons were of any avail with the council, he presented the king's ring, appealing at the same time to his Majesty. Hereupon, the whole council was struck with astonishment;[393] and the earl of Bedford, who was not one of Gardiner's party, with a solemn oath exclaimed: 'When you first began this matter, my lords, I told you what would come of it. Do you think that the king will suffer this man's finger to ache? Much more, I warrant you, will he defend his life against brabbling varlets. You do but cumber yourselves to hear tales and fables against him.' The members of the council immediately rose and carried the king's ring to him, thus surrendering the matter, according to the usage of the time, into his hands.
[Sidenote: AN APPROACHING CHANGE.]
When they had all come into the presence of the king, he said to them with a severe countenance: 'Ah, my lords, I thought I had had wiser men of my council than now I find you. What discretion was this in you, thus to make the primate of the realm, and one of you in office, to wait at the council-chamber door amongst serving men?... You had no such commission of me so to handle him. I was content that you should try him as a councillor, and not as a mean subject. But now I well perceive that things be done against him maliciously; and if some of you might have had your minds, you would have tried him to the uttermost. But I do you all to wit, and protest, that if a prince may be beholding unto his subject' (and here Henry laid his hand solemnly upon his breast), 'by the faith I owe to God, I take this man here, my lord of Canterbury, to be of all other a most faithful subject unto us, and one to whom we are much beholding.' The Catholic members of the council were disconcerted, confused, and unable to make any answer. One or two of them, however, took courage, made excuses, and assured the king that their object in trying the primate was to clear him of the calumnies of the world, and not to proceed against him maliciously. The king, who was not to be imposed upon by these hypocritical assertions, said: 'Well, well, my lords, take him and well use him, as he is worthy to be, and make no more ado.' All the lords then went up to Cranmer, and took him by the hand as if they had been his dearest friends. The archbishop, who was of a conciliatory disposition, forgave them. But the king sent to prison for a certain time some of the archbishop's accusers; and he sent a message to Sir J. Gostwick, to the effect that he was a wicked varlet, and that unless he made his apologies to the metropolitan, he would make of him an example which should be a warning to all false accusers. These facts are creditable to Henry VIII. It was doubtless his aim to keep a certain middle course; and like many other despots he had happy intervals. There were other evidences of this fact. Four great Bibles appeared with his sanction in 1541; two of them bearing the name of Tonstall, the other two that of Cranmer.[394] Moreover, a sudden change was approaching which was to alter the whole course of things.
At the end of August, 1541, Henry went to York,[395] for the purpose of holding an interview with his nephew, the king of Scotland, whom he was anxious to persuade to declare himself independent of the pope. Henry made magnificent preparations for his reception; but Cardinal Beatoun prevented the young prince from going. This excited the bitterest discontent in Henry's mind, and became afterwards the cause of a breach. The queen, who accompanied him, endeavored to divert him from his vexation; and the king, more and more pleased with his marriage, after his return to London, made public thanksgiving on All Saints' Day (October 24), that God had given him so amiable and excellent a wife, and even requested the bishop of Lincoln to join in his commendations of her. This excessive satisfaction was ere long to be interrupted.[396]
[Sidenote: DISCLOSURES ABOUT THE QUEEN.]
During the king's journey, one John Lascelles, who had a married sister living in the county of Sussex, paid her a visit. This woman had formerly been in the service of the old duchess of Norfolk, grandmother to the queen, and by whom Catherine had been brought up. In the course of conversation the brother and sister talked about this young lady, whom the sister had known well, and who had now become wife to the king. The brother, ambitious for his sister's advancement, said to her: 'You ought to ask the queen to place you among her attendants.' 'I shall certainly not do so,' she answered; 'I can not think of the queen but with sadness.' 'Why?' 'She is so frivolous in character and in life.' 'How so?' Then the woman related that Catherine had had improper intercourse with one of the officers of the ducal house of Norfolk, named Francis Derham; and that she had been very familiar with another whose name was Mannock. Lascelles perceived the importance of these statements; and as he could not take upon himself the responsibility of concealing them, he determined to report them to the archbishop. The communication greatly embarrassed Cranmer. If he should keep the matter secret and it should afterwards become known, he would be ruined. Nor would he less certainly be ruined if he should divulge it, and then no proof be forthcoming. But what chiefly weighed upon his mind was the thought of the agitation which would be excited. To think of another wife of the king executed at the Tower! To think of his prince, his country, and perhaps also the work which was in process of accomplishment in England, becoming the objects of ridicule and perhaps of abhorrence! As he was unwilling to assume alone the responsibility imposed by so grave a communication, he opened his mind on the subject to the lord chancellor and to other members of the privy council, to whom the king had entrusted the despatch of business during his absence. 'They were greatly troubled and inquieted.'[397] After having well weighed the reasons for and against, they came to the conclusion that, as this matter mainly concerned the king, Cranmer should inform him of it. This was a hard task to undertake; and the archbishop, who was deeply affected, durst not venture to make viva voce so frightful a communication. He therefore put down in writing the report which had been made to him, and had it laid before the king. The latter was terribly shocked; but as he tenderly loved his wife and had a high opinion of her virtue, he said that it was a calumny. However, he privately assembled in his cabinet the lord privy seal, the lord admiral, Sir Antony Brown, and Sir Thomas Wriothesley, a friend of the duke of Norfolk, who had taken a leading part in the divorce of Anne of Cleves, and laid the case before them, declaring at the same time that he did not believe in it. These lords privately examined Lascelles and his sister, who persisted in their depositions; next Mannock and Derham, who asserted the truth of their statements; the latter, moreover, mentioning three of the duchess of Norfolk's women who likewise had knowledge of the facts. The members of the council made their report to the king, who, pierced with grief, remained silent for some time. At length he burst into tears, and commanded the duke of Norfolk, the queen's uncle, the archbishop of Canterbury, the high chamberlain, and the bishop of Winchester, who had promoted the marriage, to go to Catherine and examine her. At first she denied every thing. But when Cranmer was sent to her, on the evening of the first inquisition, the words of the primate, his admonitions, the reports which he made to her, which proved that her conduct was perfectly well known, convinced her of the uselessness of her denials, and she then made full confession, and even added some strange details. It does not appear that the queen felt it her duty to confess her offences to God, but she resolved at least to confess them to men. While making her confession she was in a state of so great agitation that the archbishop was in dread every moment of her losing her reason. He thought, according to her confessions, that she had been seduced by the infamous Derham, with the privity even of his own wife. The household of the duchess-dowager of Norfolk appears to have been very disorderly. Cranmer wrote down or caused to be written this confession, and Catherine signed it.[398] He had scarcely left the unhappy woman, when she fell into a state of raving delirium.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S FRENZY.]
The king was thrown into great excitement by the news of Catherine's confession of the reality of his misfortune. The very intensity of his love served to increase his trouble and his wrath; but, for all this, some feeling of pity remained in his heart. 'Return to her,' he said to Cranmer, 'and first make use of the strongest expressions to give her a sense of the greatness of her offences; secondly, state to her what the law provides in such cases, and what she must suffer for her crime; and lastly express to her my feelings of pity and forgiveness.' Cranmer returned to Catherine and found her in a fit of passion so violent that he never remembered--so he wrote to the king--seeing any creature in such a state. The keepers told him that this vehement rage had continued from his departure from her.[399] 'It would have pitied,' said the good archbishop, 'any man's heart in the world to have looked upon her.' Indeed, she was almost in a frenzy; she was not without strength, but her strength was that of a frantic person. The archbishop had had too much experience in the cure of souls, to adopt the order prescribed by the king. He saw that if he spoke first to her of the crime and its punishment, he might throw her into some dangerous ecstasy, from which she could not be rescued. He therefore began with the last part of the royal message, and told the queen that his majesty's mercy extended to her, and that he had compassion on her misfortune. Catherine hereupon lifted up her hands, became quiet, and gave utterance to the humblest thanksgivings to the king who showed her so much mercy. She became more self-possessed; continuing, however, to sob and weep. But 'after a little pausing, she suddenly fell into a new rage, much worse than she was before.'[400]
Cranmer, desirous of delivering her from this frightful delirium, said to her: 'Some new fantasy has come into your head, madam; pray open it to me.' After a time, when her passion subsided and she was capable of speech, she wept freely and said: 'Alas, my lord, that I am alive! The fear of death grieved me not so much before, as doth now the remembrance of the king's goodness. For when I remember how gracious and loving a prince I had, I can not but sorrow; but this sudden mercy, and more than I could have looked for, showed unto me so unworthy at this time, maketh mine offences to appear before mine eyes much more heinous than they did before; and the more I consider the greatness of his mercy, the more I do sorrow in my heart that I should so misorder myself against his majesty.' The fact that the compassion of the king touched Catherine more than the fear of a trial and of death, seemed to indicate a state of mind less wayward than one might have expected. But in vain Cranmer said to her every thing calculated to pacify her; she remained for a long time 'in a great pang;' and even fell soon into another frightful passion. At length, in the afternoon she came gradually to herself, and was in a quiet state till night. Cranmer, during this interval of relief, had 'good communications with her.' He rejoiced at having brought her into some quiet. She told him that there had been a marriage contract between her and Derham, only verbal indeed, she said; but that nevertheless, though never announced and acknowledged, it had been consummated. She added that she had acted under compulsion of that man.[401] At six o'clock, she had another fit of frenzy. 'Ah,' she said afterwards to Cranmer, 'when the clock struck, I remembered the time when Master Heneage was wont to bring me knowledge of his Grace.' In consequence of Cranmer's report, Henry commanded that the queen should be conducted to Sion House, where two apartments were to be assigned to her and attendants nominated by the king.[402]
Charges against Catherine were accumulating. She had taken into her service, as queen, the wretched Derham and, employing him as secretary, had often admitted him into her private apartments; and this the council regarded as evidence of adultery.[403] She had also again attached to herself one of the women implicated in her first irregularities. At length it was proved that another gentleman, one Culpeper, a kinsman of her mother, had been introduced, in the king's absence on a journey, into the queen's private apartments by Lady Rochford, at a suspicious hour and under circumstances which usually indicate crime. Culpeper confessed it.
[Sidenote: EXECUTIONS.]
Now began the condemnations and the executions; and Henry VIII. included in the trial not only those who were guilty but also the near relatives and servants of the queen, who, though well knowing her offences, had not reported them to the king. On the 7th, the council determined that the duchess-dowager of Norfolk, grandmother to the queen, her uncle, Lord William Howard, her aunts Lady Howard and Lady Bridgewater, together with Alice Wilks, Catherine Tylney, Damport, Walgrave, Malin Tilney, Mary Lascelles, Bulmer, Ashby, Anne Haward and Margaret Benet were all guilty of not having revealed the crime of high treason, and that they should be prosecuted. On the 8th the king ordered that all these persons, Mary Lascelles excepted, should be committed to the Tower: and this was done. Lord William Howard was imprisoned on December 9; the duchess of Norfolk on the 10th, and Lady Bridgewater on the 13th. All of them stoutly protested their ignorance and their innocence.[404] On December 10, 1541, Culpeper was beheaded at Tyburn; and the same day Derham was hung, drawn and quartered.[405]
Meanwhile, the duke of Norfolk had taken refuge at Kenninghall, about eighty miles from London. On December 15, he wrote to the king, saying that by reason of the offences committed by his family he found himself in the utmost perplexity. Twice in his letter he 'prostrates himself at the king's feet;' and he expresses 'some hope that your Highness will not conceive any displeasure in your most gentle heart against me; that, God knoweth, never did think thought which might be to your discontentation.'[406] There did, however, remain something in the 'most gentle heart' of Henry VIII.
Parliament met, by the king's command, on January 16, 1542, to give its attention to this business. Thus it was to the highest national assembly that the king entrusted the regulation of his domestic interests. On January 21, the chancellor introduced in the upper house a bill in which the king was requested not to trouble himself about the matter, considering that it might shorten his life; to declare guilty of high treason the queen and all her accomplices; and to condemn the queen and Lady Rochford to death. The bill passed both houses and received the royal assent.[407]
On February 12, the queen and Lady Rochford, her accomplice, were taken to Tower Hill and beheaded. The queen, while she confessed the offences which had preceded her marriage, protested to the last before God and his holy angels that she had never violated her faith to the king. But her previous offences gave credibility to those which were subsequent to her marriage. With regard to Lady Rochford, the confidant of the queen, she was universally hated. People called to mind the fact that her calumnies had been the principal cause of the death of the innocent Anne Boleyn and of her own husband; and nobody was sorry for her. The king pardoned the old duchess of Norfolk and some others who had been prosecuted for not disclosing the crime.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S GUILT.]
These events did not call forth within the realm many remarks of a painful kind for Henry VIII.; but the great example of immorality presented by the English court lessened the esteem in which it was held in Europe. There was no lack of similar licentiousness in France and elsewhere; but there a veil was thrown over it, while in England it was public talk. Opinion afterwards became severe with regard to the king; and when his conduct to three of his former wives was remembered, people said of the disgrace cast on him by Catherine Howard, he well deserved it. As for the Catholic party, which had given Catherine to Henry and had cherished the hope that by her influence it should achieve its final triumph, it was greatly mortified, and it has been so down to our own time. Some Catholics, referring to these offences, have tried to lessen the abhorrence and the shame of them by saying 'that a conspiracy was hatched to bring the queen to the scaffold.' But the evidence produced against Catherine is so clear that they have been obliged to alter their tone. Catholicism assuredly has had its virtuous princesses in abundance, but it must be acknowledged that she who became its patroness in England in 1541 did not do it much honor.[408]
The elevation of Catherine Howard to the throne had been followed by an elevation of Catholicism in England; and the fall of this unhappy woman was followed by a depression of the party to which she belonged. This is our reason for dwelling on her history. These last events appear to have given offence at Rome. Pope Paul III. displayed more irritation than ever against Henry VIII. One of the king's ambassadors at Venice wrote to him at this time,--'The bishop of Rome is earnestly at work to bring about a union of the emperor and the king of France for the ruin of your majesty;' and the secret reflection that the count Ludovico de Rangon had been in England filled the pope with fury[409] and rage. The zeal and the caution of Cranmer in the affair of Catherine had greatly increased the king's liking for him. Cranmer, however, was in no haste to take advantage of this to get any bold measures passed in favor of the Reformation. He knew that any such attempt would have had a contrary result. But he lost no opportunity of diffusing in England the principles of the Reformation.
Parliament met on January 16, 1542, and the Convocation of the clergy on the 20th of the same month. On Friday, February 17, the translation of the Holy Scriptures was on the order of the day. The suppression of the English Bible was desired by the majority of the bishops, most of all by Gardiner, who, since the fall of Catherine Howard, felt more than ever the necessity of resisting reformation. As he was unable to re-establish at once the Vulgate as a whole, he endeavored to retain what he could of it in the translation, so that the people might not understand what they read and might abandon it altogether. He proposed therefore to keep in the English translation one hundred and two Latin words 'for the sake of their native meaning and their dignity.' Among these words were--Ecclesia, pœnitentia, pontifex, holocaustum, simulacrum, episcopus, confessio, hostia, and others. In addition to the design which he entertained of preventing the people from understanding what they read, he had still another in regard to such as might understand any part of it. If he was desirous of retaining certain words, this was for the purpose of retaining certain dogmas. 'Witness,' says Fuller, 'the word Penance, which according to vulgar sound, contrary to the original sense thereof, was a magazine of willworship, and brought in much gain to the Priests who were desirous to keep that word, because that word kept them.'[410] Cranmer gave the king warning of the matter; and it was agreed that the bishops should have nothing to do with the translation of the Bible. On March 10 the archbishop informed Convocation that it was the king's intention to have the translation examined by the two universities. The bishops were greatly annoyed; but Cranmer assured them that the king's determination was to be carried out. All the prelates but two protested against this course. This decree, however, had no other object than to get rid of the bishops, for the universities were never consulted. This was obviously a blow struck at the Convocation of the clergy.[411]
[Sidenote: HYPOCRISY OF BONNER.]
The change which resulted from the disgrace of the Howards was apparent even in the case of the enemies of the Reformation. Bonner, bishop of London, a man at once violent and fickle, who after the death of Cromwell had suddenly turned against the Reformation, after the death of Catherine made a show of turning in the contrary direction. He published various admonitions and injunctions for the guidance of his diocese. 'It is very expedient,' he said to the laity, 'that whosoever repaireth hither [to the church] to read this book, or any such like, in any other place, he prepare himself chiefly and principally with all devotion, humility and quietness to be edified and made the better thereby.' To the clergy he said: 'Every parson, vicar and curate shall read over and diligently study every week one chapter of the Bible,... proceeding from chapter to chapter, from the beginning of the Gospel of Matthew, to the end of the New Testament.... You are to instruct, teach and bring up in learning the best ye can all such children of your parishioners as shall come to you for the same; or at the least to teach them to read English,... so that they may thereby the better learn and know how to believe, how to pray, how to live to God's pleasure.'[412]
VIII. A PROTESTANT QUEEN, CATHERINE PARR
(1542.)
[Sidenote: RICHARD HILLES.]
The principles of the Reformation were spreading more and more, and especially among the London merchants; doubtless because they held more intercourse than other classes with foreigners. These men of business were much better informed than we in our days should suppose. One of them, Richard Hilles, had large business transactions with Strasburg and the rest of Germany; and while engaged in these he paid some attention to theological literature. He not merely read, but formed an opinion of the works which he read, and was thus at the same time merchant and critic. He read the Ecclesiastical History of Eusebius, as well as his Preparation and Demonstration; but he was not satisfied with Eusebius. He found in his writings false notions on free-will and on the marriage of ministers. Tertullian, on the other hand, charmed him by his simplicity, his piety, and likewise by the soundness of his judgment on the Eucharist; but he found much fault with his work on Prescriptions against Heretics.[413] Cyprian edified him by the fulness of his piety; but he was shocked by his overmuch severity, and by his opinions on satisfaction, which in his view were derogatory to the righteousness of Christ. Lactantius he loved as the defender of the cause of God; but he sharply criticised his opinions on the virtue of almsgiving, on the necessity of abstinence from flowers and perfumes, illecebræ istæ voluptatum arma, on the method of making up for evil works by good ones, on the millennium, and many other subjects. Origen, Augustine, and Jerome were also included in the cycle of his studious labors.[414] Hilles considered it a great loss, even to a merchant, to pursue no studies. He found in them a remedy against the too strong influences of worldly affairs.
For him, however, the essential matter was the study of the Word of God. He used frequently to read and expound it in the houses of evangelical Christians in London. Bishop Gardiner, when examining one of Hilles' neighbors, said to him: 'Has not Richard Hilles been every day in your house, teaching you and others like you?' Some ecclesiastics one day called upon him, while making a collection for placing tapers before the crucifix and the sepulchre of Christ in the parish church. He refused to contribute. The priests entreated his kinsmen and friends to urge him not to set himself against a practice which had existed for five centuries. No custom, said he, can prevail against the word of Christ--'They that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth.' The priests now increased their threatenings, and Hilles left London and went to Strasburg, keeping up at the same time his house of business in London. The reader of Tertullian, Cyprian, Origen, and Augustine, on leaving the banks of the Rhine, went to Frankfort and to Nürnberg to sell his cloth.[415] Moreover he made a good use of the money which he received. 'I send herewith to your piety,' he wrote to Bullinger, 'ten Italian crowns, which I desire to be laid out according to your pleasure, as occasion may offer, upon the poor exiles (rich, however, in Christ), and those especially, if such there be, who are in distress among you.'[416]
The more Henry VIII. felt the loss which he had sustained by the death of Cromwell, the more did he feel drawn to Cranmer and to the cause he advocated. Already, in this same year, 1542, he addressed to Cranmer some letters for the abolition of idolatry, ordering the disuse of images, relics, tapers, reliquaries, tables and monuments of miracles, pilgrimages and other abuses.[417]
While laymen thus joined knowledge with faith, and business with teaching, Cranmer was slowly pursuing his task. When parliament met, January 22, 1543, the archbishop introduced 'a Bill for the advancement of true religion.' This Act at once prohibited and enjoined the reading of the Bible. Was this intentional or accidental? We are disposed to think it accidental. There were two currents of opinion in England, and both of them reappeared in the laws. Only it is to be noted that the better current was the stronger; it was the good cause which seemed ultimately to gain the ascendency on this occasion. It was ordered that the Bibles bearing Tyndale's name should be suppressed; but the printers still issued his translation with hardly any alteration, shielding it under the names of Matthew, Taverner, Cranmer, and even Tonstall and Heath.[418] It was therefore read everywhere. The Act forbade that any one should read the Bible to others, either in any church or elsewhere, without the sanction of the king or of some bishop. But at the same time the chancellor of England, officers of the army, the king's judges, the magistrates of any town or borough, and the Speaker of the House of Commons, who were accustomed to take a passage of Scripture as the text of their discourses, were empowered to read it. Further, every person of noble rank, male or female, being head of a family, was permitted to read the Bible or to cause it to be read by one of their domestics, in their own house, their garden or orchard, to their own family. Likewise, every trader or other person being head of a household was allowed to read it in private; but apprentices, work-people, &c., were to abstain. This enactment, thus interdicting the Bible to the common people, was both impious and absurd; impious in its prohibition, but also absurd, because reading in the family was recommended, and this might be done even by the domestics. The knowledge of the Scriptures might thus reach those to whom they were proscribed.[419]
[Sidenote: CRANMER'S ENDEAVORS.]
At the same time, on the demand of Cranmer, the Act of Six Articles was somewhat modified. Those who had infringed its clauses were no longer to be punished with death, if they were laymen; and priests were to incur this penalty only after the third offence. This was certainly no great gain, but the primate obtained what he could.
He also endeavored to render as harmless as possible the book 'A necessary doctrine and erudition for any Christian Man,' which was published in 1543,[420] and was called 'The King's Book,' to distinguish it from 'The Institution of a Christian Man,' which was called 'The Bishop's Book.' This book of the king held a middle course between the doctrine of the pope and that of the Reformation, leaning, however, towards the latter. The grace and the mercy of God were established as the principle of our justification. Some reforms were introduced with respect to the worship of images and of the saints; the article on purgatory was omitted; large rights were granted to the church of every country; the vulgar tongue was recognized as necessary to meet the religious wants of the people. Still, many obscurities and errors were to be found in this book.
An event was approaching which would draw the king more decisively to the side of the Reformation. Although he had now made five successive marriages, and had experienced, undoubtedly by his own fault, only a long series of disappointments and vexations, he was once more looking for a wife. A law which had been passed after the discovery of the misconduct of Catherine Howard terrified the maidens of England, even the most innocent among them; they would have been afraid of falling victims to the unjust suspicions of Henry VIII. He now determined to marry a widow.
Catherine Parr, the widow of Lord Latimer, was now at the court. She was a woman of good sense, of virtuous and amiable character, beautiful, and agreeable in manners,[421] and was past the prime of youth. She had, however, one defect which often attaches to noble characters,--a want of prudence. She did not always perceive and practise what was best to be done under certain circumstances. Especially was she wanting in that human prudence, so necessary at the court, and particularly to the wife of Henry VIII.; and hereby she was exposed to great danger. The king was now in a declining state; and his bodily infirmities as well as his irritable temper made it a necessity that some gentle and very considerate wife should take care of him. He married the noble dowager[422] on July 12, 1543; and he found in her the affection and the kind attentions of a virtuous lady. The crown was to Catherine but a poor compensation; but she discharged her duty devotedly, and shed some rays of sunshine over the last years of the king. The queen was favorable to the Reformation, as was likewise her brother, who was created earl of Essex, and her uncle, made Lord Parr of Horton. Cranmer and all those who wished for a real reformation were on the side of the new queen; while Gardiner and his party, now including the new chancellor, Wriothesley, taking alarm at this influence which was opposed to them, became more zealous than ever in the maintenance of the old doctrine. These men felt that the power which they had possessed under Catherine Howard might slip out of their hands; and they resolved to spread terror among the friends of the Reformation, not excepting the queen herself, by attacking Cranmer. It was always this man at whom they aimed and struck their blows, nor was this the last time they did so.
[Sidenote: PLOT AGAINST CRANMER.]
The prebendaries of Canterbury and other priests of the same diocese, strongly attached to the Catholic doctrine, and disquieted and shocked by the reforming principles of the archbishop, came to an understanding with Gardiner, held a great many meetings among themselves, and collected a large number of reports hostile to the archbishop. They accused him of having removed images, and prohibited the partisans of the old doctrines from preaching; and the rumor was soon everywhere current that 'the bishop of Winchester had bent his bow to shoot at some of the head deer.' The long list of charges brought against the primate was forwarded to the king. Amongst the accusers were found some members of Cranmer's church, magistrates whom he had laid under obligation to him, and men who almost daily sat at his table. Henry was pained and irritated; he loved Cranmer, but these numerous accusations disturbed him. Taking the document with him, he went out, as if going to take a walk alone on the banks of the Thames. He entered his bark. 'To Lambeth,' he said to his boatmen. Some of the domestics of the archbishop saw the boat approaching: they recognised the king, and gave information to their master, who immediately came down to pay his respects to his Majesty. Henry invited him to enter the bark; and when they were seated together, the boatmen being at a distance, the king began to lament the growth of heresy, and the debates which would inevitably result from it, and declared that he was determined to find out who was the principal promoter of these false doctrines and to make an example of him. 'What think you of it?' he added. 'Sir,' replied Cranmer, 'it is a good resolution; but I entreat you to consider well what heresy is, and not to condemn those as heretics who stand for the word of God against human inventions.' After further explanations, the king said to him: 'You are the man who, as I am informed, is the chief encourager of heresy.' The king then handed to him the articles of accusation collected by his opponents. Cranmer took the papers and read them. When he had finished, he begged the king to appoint a commission to investigate these grievances, and frankly explained to him his own view of the case. The king, touched by his simplicity and candor, disclosed to him the conspiracy, and promised to nominate a commission; insisting, however, that the primate should be the chief member and that he should proceed against his accusers. Cranmer refused to do this. The commission was nominated. Dr. Lee, dean of York, made diligent inquiry, and found that men to whom Cranmer had rendered great services were in the number of the conspirators. Cranmer bore himself with great meekness towards them. He declined to confound and put them to shame as the king had required him to do; and the result was, that instead of condemning Cranmer, every one of them acknowledged that he was the first to practise the virtues which he preached to others, and thus showed himself to be a true bishop and a worthy reformer.[423]
[Sidenote: PERSECUTION AT OXFORD.]
As Gardiner and his colleagues had failed in their attempt to bring down the head deer, they determined to indemnify themselves by attacking lesser game. A society of friends of the Gospel had been formed at Oxford, the members of which were leading lowly and quiet lives, but at the same time were making courageous confession of the truth. Fourteen of them were apprehended by Doctor London, supported by the bishop of Winchester. The persecutors chiefly directed their attack against three of these men. Robert Testwood, famed for his musical attainments and attached as a 'singing-man' to the chapel of Windsor College, used to speak with respect of Luther, ventured to read the Holy Scriptures, and exhorted his acquaintances not to bow down before dumb images, but to worship only the true and living God. Henry Filmer, a churchwarden, could not endure the fooleries which the priests retailed in the pulpit; and the latter, greatly stung by his criticism, accused him of being so thoroughly corrupted by heresy that he alone would suffice to poison the whole nation. Antony Peerson, a priest, preached with so much faith and eloquence, that the people flocked in crowds to hear him, both at Oxford and in the surrounding country places.
A fourth culprit at length appeared before the council. He was a poor man, simple-minded, and of mean appearance. Some loose sheets of a book lay upon the table in front of the bishop of Winchester. 'Marbeck,' said the bishop, 'dost thou know wherefore thou art sent for?' 'No, my lord,' he replied. The bishop, taking up some of the sheets, said to him: 'Understandest thou the Latin tongue?' 'No, my lord,' he answered, 'but simply.' Gardiner then stated to the council that the book he held in his hand was a Concordance, and that it was translated word for word from the original compiled for the use of preachers. He asserted 'that if such a book should go forth in English, it would destroy the Latin tongue.' Two days later Gardiner again sent for Marbeck. 'Marbeck,' said the bishop, 'what a devil made thee to meddle with the Scriptures?[424] Thy vocation was another way ... why the devil didst thou not hold thee there?... What helpers hadst thou in setting forth thy book?' 'Forsooth, my lord,' answered Marbeck, 'none.' 'It is not possible that thou should'st do it without help,' exclaimed the bishop. Then addressing one of his chaplains: 'Here is a marvellous thing; this fellow hath taken upon him to set out the Concordance in English, which book, when it was set out in Latin, was not done without the help and diligence of a dozen learned men at least, and yet will he bear me in hand that he hath done it alone.' Then, addressing Marbeck, he said: 'Say what thou wilt, except God himself would come down from heaven and tell me so, I will not believe it.' Marbeck was taken back to prison, and was placed in close confinement, with irons on his hands and feet. He was five times examined; and on the fifth occasion a new charge was brought against him;--he had written out with his own hand a letter of John Calvin.[425] This was worse than spending his time over the Bible.
Gardiner exerted himself to the utmost to secure the condemnation of this man to death, in company with Testwood, Filmer, and Peerson. The queen was now hardly on the throne. These three Christians were burnt alive; and they met death with so much humility, patience, and devotion to Jesus, their only refuge, that some of the bystanders declared that they would willingly have died with them and like them.[426] But the persecutors failed in their attempt with respect to Marbeck. Cranmer was able to convince the king that the making of a Concordance to the Bible ought not to be visited with death. It is well known that Henry VIII. attached much importance to the Holy Scriptures, which he considered the most powerful weapon against the pope. Marbeck, therefore, was spared.
[Sidenote: WAR WITH FRANCE.]
It is, moreover, no wonder that there should still have been martyrs. The queen, indeed, was friendly to their cause; but political circumstances were not favorable. After forty years' alliance with France, Henry VIII. was about to declare war against that kingdom. The pretexts for this course were many. The first was the alliance of the king of France with the Turks, 'who are daily advancing to destroy and ruin our holy faith and religion, to the great regret of all good Christians,' said the Council.[427] A second pretext was that the sums of money which France was bound to pay annually to the king had fallen in arrear for nine years; there was also the question of the subsidies granted by France to Scotland during the war between Henry VIII. and the Scots; the reception and protection of English rebels by Francis I.; and the detention in French ports of faithful subjects of the king, merchants and others, with their ships and merchandise. In the despatch which we have just cited, the king also declared that, if within twenty days the grievances set forth were not redressed, he should claim the kingdom of France unjustly held by Francis I. The French ambassador replied in a conciliatory manner. Diplomacy made no reference to other grounds of complaint of a more private character, which perhaps throw light upon those which occasioned the rupture. Francis I. had jested about the way in which Henry VIII. dealt with his wives. Henry had sought the hand of French princesses, and they had no mind for this foreign husband; and lastly, Francis did not fulfil the promise which he had made to separate from Rome. There were many other pretexts besides, more or less reasonable, which determined the king to invade France.
While withdrawing from alliance with Francis I., Henry could not but at the same time enter into closer relation with Charles V. This reconciliation seemed natural, for the king of England was really, in respect to religion, more in harmony with the emperor than with the Protestants of Germany, whose alliance he had for some time desired. But Charles required first of all that the legitimacy and the rights of his cousin, the princess Mary, should be acknowledged; and this Henry refused to do, because it would have involved an acknowledgment of his injustice to Catherine of Aragon. A solution which satisfied the emperor was ultimately devised. It was provided by Act of Parliament that if Prince Edward should die without children, 'the crown should go to the lady Mary.'[428] But in this Act no mention was made of her legitimacy. The result of the concession of this point to Charles V. was to bring on England a five years' bloody persecution, and to give her people Philip II. for their king. In default of any issue of Mary, Elizabeth was to succeed to the throne. After the passing of this Act, in March, 1543, a treaty of alliance was concluded between England and the Empire.
The war which Henry VIII., 'king of England, France, and Ireland,' said the parliament, now carried on against Francis I. has little to do with the history of the Reformation. The king, having named the queen regent of his kingdom, embarked for France, on July 14, 1544, on a vessel hung with cloth of gold. He was now feeble and corpulent, but his vanity and love of display were always conspicuous, even when setting out for a war. Having arrived on the frontier of France he found himself at the head of 45,000 men, 30,000 of whom were English. The emperor, who had got the start of him, was already within two days' march of Paris; and the city was in alarm at the approach of the Germans. 'I can not prevent my people of Paris from being afraid,' said Francis, 'but I will prevent them from suffering injury.' Charles paid little respect to his engagement with Henry VIII., and now treated separately with Francis at Crespy, near Laon, September 19, and left the king of England to get out of the affair as well as he could. Henry captured Boulogne, but this was all that he had of his kingdom of France. On September 30 he returned to London.
[Sidenote: SYMPATHIES OF THE ITALIANS.]
The war, however, continued until 1546. England, abandoned by the emperor, found sympathy in a quarter where it might least have been expected,--in Italy. The Italians, who were conscious of the evils brought on their own land by the papacy, were filled with admiration for the prince and the nation which had cast off its yoke. Edmund Harvel, ambassador of Henry VIII. in Italy, being at this time at Venice, was continually receiving visits from captains of high reputation, who came to offer their services. Among these was Ercole Visconti of Milan, a man of high birth, a great captain, and one who, having extensive connections in Italy, might render great services to the king.[429] The French were now making an attempt to retake Boulogne; but the Italian soldiers who were serving in their army were constantly going over to the English, at the rate of thirty per day. The Italian companies were thus so largely reduced that the captains requested permission to leave the camp for want of soldiers to command; and permission was given them.[430] In this matter the pope was involved in difficulty. He had undertaken to furnish Francis I. with a body of four thousand men; but as the king was afraid that these Roman soldiers would pass over to the English army,[431] he requested Paul III. to substitute for these auxiliaries a monthly subsidy of 16,000 crowns. 'As the Italian nation,' added the English ambassador in his letter to Henry VIII., 'is alienate from the French king, so the same is more and more inclined to your Majesty.' From this episode it is evident that Italy was at this time favorably disposed towards the Reformation.
But if in Italy there were many supporters of Protestantism, in England its opponents were still more numerous. The fanatical party had attempted in 1543 to expel Reform from the town of Windsor by means of martyrdom. But the account was not settled; it still remained to purify the castle. It was known that Testwood, Filmer, Peerson, and Marbeck himself had had patrons in Sir Thomas and Lady Cardine, Sir Philip and Lady Hobby, Dr. Haynes, dean of Exeter, and other persons at the court. Dr. London, who was always on the look-out for heretics, and a pleader named Simons, sent to Gardiner one Ockam, a secretary, with letters, accusations, and secret documents as to the way in which they intended to proceed. But one of the queen's servants reached the court before him and gave notice of the scheme. Ockam on his arrival, was arrested, all the papers examined, and evidence was discovered in them of an actual conspiracy against many persons at the court. This aroused great indignation in the king's mind. It is highly probable that these gentlemen and their wives owed their safety to the influence of the queen and of Cranmer. London and Simons, unaware that their letters and documents had fallen into the hands of their judges, denied the plot, and this even upon oath. Their own writings were now produced, it was proved that they were guilty of perjury, and they were condemned to ignominious punishment. London, that great slayer of heretics, and his colleague, were conducted on horseback, facing backwards, with the name of perjurer on their foreheads, through the streets of Windsor, Reading, and Newbury, the king being now at the last named town. They were afterwards set in the pillory and then taken back to prison. London died there of distress caused by this public disgrace. It was well that the wind should change, and that persecutors should be punished instead of the persecuted; but the manners of the time subjected these wretches to shocking sufferings which it would have been better to spare them.[432]
IX. THE LAST MARTYRS OF HENRY'S REIGN
(1545.)
Henry VIII., sick and fretful, was easily drawn first to one side, then to the other. He was a victim of indecision, of violent excitement and of irresolution. His brother-in-law, the duke of Suffolk, who of all the members of the Privy Council was the most determined supporter of the Reformation, had died in August, 1545, and that body was thenceforward impelled in an opposite direction, and carried the king along with it.
[Sidenote: RECANTATION OF SHAXTON.]
Shaxton, having resigned his see of Salisbury after the publication of the Six Articles, had been put in prison, and had long rejected all proposals of recantation addressed to him. Having aggravated his offence while in prison by asserting that the natural body of Christ was not in the sacrament, he was condemned to be burnt. The bishops of London and Worcester, sent by the king, visited him in the prison and strove to convince him. This feeble and egotistic man readily professed himself persuaded, and thanked the king 'for that he had delivered him at the same time from the temporal and from the everlasting fire.' On July 13, 1546, he was set at liberty. As he grew old his understanding became still weaker; and in Mary's reign the unhappy man was one of the most eager to burn those whom he had called his brethren.[433]
While there were men like Shaxton, whose fall was decisive and final, others were to be met with who, although in their own hearts decided for the truth, were alarmed when they found themselves in danger of death, and subscribed the Catholic declarations which were offered to them. But after having thus plunged into the abyss, they lifted up their heads as soon as possible and again confessed the truth. One of this class was Edward Crome, who, at this period, gave way on two occasions, but recovered himself.[434]
Many other blemishes were visible in the general state of the Anglican church; and the obstinacy of the king, in particular, in maintaining in his kingdom, side by side, two things in opposition to each other, the Catholic doctrines and the reading of the Bible, subjected the sacred volume to strange honors. The king in person prorogued the parliament on December 24, and on this occasion made his last speech to the highest body in the state. He spoke as vicar of God, and gave a lecture to the ministers and the members of the church. It was his taste; he believed that he was born for this position, and there was in his nature as much of the preceptor as of the king. Moreover, there was nothing which offended him so much as the attempt to address a lecture to himself. Any one who did so risked his own life. But while he was easily hurt, he did not shrink from hurting the feelings of others. He handled the rod more easily than the sceptre.
[Sidenote: SPEECH OF HENRY VIII.]
The Speaker of the House of Commons having delivered an address to the king in which he extolled his virtues, Henry replied as follows:--'Whereas you ... have both praised and extolled me for the notable qualities you have conceived to be in me, I most heartily thank you all that you put me in remembrance of my duty, which is to endeavor myself to obtain and get such excellent qualities and necessary virtues.... No prince in the world more favoreth his subjects than I do you, nor any subjects or commons more love and obey their sovereign lord than I perceive you do me. Yet, although I with you, and you with me, be in this perfect love and concord, this friendly amity can not continue except you, my lords temporal, and you, my lords spiritual, and you, my loving subjects, study and take pains to amend any thing, which is surely amiss and far out of order, ... which is, that charity and concord is not among you; but discord and dissension beareth rule in every place. St. Paul saith to the Corinthians, in the thirteenth chapter, "Charity is gentle, charity is not envious, charity is not proud," and so forth. Behold then what love and charity is amongst you when one calleth the other heretic and anabaptist; and he calleth him again papist, hypocrite, and pharisee. Be these things tokens of charity amongst you? Are these the signs of fraternal love between you? No, no, I assure you that this lack of charity amongst yourselves will be the hindrance and assuaging of the fervent love between us, except this wound be salved and clearly made whole. I must needs judge the fault and occasion of this discord to be partly by the negligence of you, the fathers and preachers of the spiritualty.... I see and hear daily that you of the clergy preach one against another, ... and few or none do preach truly and sincerely the Word of God.... Alas! how can the poor souls live in concord when you preachers sow amongst them, in your sermons, debate and discord? Of you they look for light, and you bring them to darkness. Amend these crimes, I exhort you, and set forth God's word, both by true preaching and good example-giving; or else I, whom God hath appointed his vicar and high minister here, will see these divisions extinct.... Although (as I say) the spiritual men be in some fault ... yet you of the temporalty be not clean and unspotted of malice and envy; for you rail on bishops, speak slanderously of priests, and rebuke and taunt preachers.... Although you be permitted to read Holy Scripture, and to have the Word of God in your mother tongue, you must understand that it is licensed you so to do, only to inform your own conscience, and to instruct your children and family; not to dispute and make Scripture a railing and a taunting stock against priests and preachers, as many light persons do. I am very sorry to know and hear how unreverently that most precious jewel, the Word of God, is disputed, rhymed, sung, and jangled in every alehouse and tavern, contrary to the true meaning and doctrine of the same.... Be in charity one with another, ... to the which I, as your supreme head and sovereign lord, exhort and require you; and then I doubt not but that love and league, which I spake of in the beginning, shall never be dissolved or broken between us.'[435]
The school-master had not spoken amiss. The parliament did not make the retort, 'Physician, heal thyself,' though it might have been applicable. One of the measures by which the king manifested his 'sweet charity' proves that, if he were not, like some old school-masters, a tyrant of words and syllables, he tyrannized over the peace and the lives of his people.
[Sidenote: ANNE ASKEW.]
There were at the court a certain number of ladies of the highest rank who loved the Gospel--the duchess of Suffolk, the countess of Sussex, the countess of Hertford, Lady Denny, Lady Fitzwilliam,[436] and above all the queen. Associated with these was a pious, lively, and beautiful young lady, of great intelligence and amiable disposition, and whose fine qualities had been improved by education. Her name was Anne Askew. She was the second daughter of Sir William Askew, member of a very ancient Lincolnshire family. She had two brothers and two sisters. Her brother Edward was one of the king's bodyguards. The queen frequently received Anne and other Christian women in her private apartments; and there prayer was made and the Word of God expounded by an evangelical minister. The king, indeed, was aware of these secret meetings, but he feigned ignorance. Anne was at this time in great need of the consolations of the Gospel. Her father, Sir William, had a rich neighbor named Kyme, with whom he was intimate; and being anxious that his eldest daughter should marry a rich man, he arranged with Kyme that she should wed his eldest son. The young lady died before the nuptials took place; and Sir William, reluctant to let slip so good a chance, compelled his second daughter Anne to marry the betrothed of her sister, and by him she became the mother of two children. The third sister, Joan, was married to Sir John Saint-Paul. The Holy Scriptures in the English version attracted Anne's attention, and ere long she became so attached to them that she meditated on them day and night. Led by them to a living faith in Jesus Christ, she renounced Romish superstitions. The priests, who were greatly annoyed, stirred up against her her young husband, a rough man and a staunch papist, who 'violently drove her out of his house.'[437] Anne said, 'Since, according to the Scripture, "if the unbelieving depart, let him depart. A brother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases,"[438]--I claim my divorce.' She went to London to take the necessary proceedings; and either through her brother, one of the guards, or otherwise, made the acquaintance of the pious ladies of the court and of the queen herself.
It was a great vexation to the enemies of the Reformation to see persons of the highest rank almost openly professing the evangelical faith. As they did not dare to attack them, they determined to make a beginning with Anne Askew, and thereby to terrify the rest. She had said one day, 'I would sooner read five lines in the Bible than hear five masses in the church.' On another occasion she had denied the corporal presence of the Saviour in the sacrament. She was sent to prison. When she was taken to Sadlers Hall, the judge, Dare, asked her, 'Do you not believe that the sacrament hanging over the altar was the very body of Christ really?' Anne replied, 'Wherefore was St. Stephen stoned to death?' Dare, doubtless, remembered that Stephen had said, 'I see the Son of man sitting at the right hand of God.' From this it followed that He was not in the sacrament. He preferred to answer, 'I can not tell.' It is possible, however, that his ignorance was not feigned. 'No more,' said Anne, 'will I assoil your vain question.' Anne was afterwards taken before the lord-mayor, Sir Martin Bowes, a passionate bigot. He was under-treasurer of the Mint, and in 1550 obtained the king's pardon for all the false money which he had coined. The magistrate gravely asked her whether a mouse, eating the host, received God or no? 'I made no answer, but smiled,' says Anne. The bishop's chancellor, who was present, sharply said to her, 'St. Paul forbade women to speak or to talk of the Word of God.' 'How many women,' said she in reply, 'have you seen go into the pulpit and preach?' 'Never any,' he said. 'You ought not to find fault in poor women, except they have offended the law.' She was unlawfully committed to prison, and for eleven days no one was allowed to see her. At this time she was about twenty-five years of age.
One of her cousins, named Brittayne, was admitted to see her. He immediately did every thing he could to get Anne released on bail. The lord-mayor bade him apply to the chancellor of the bishop of London. The chancellor replied to him, 'Apply to the bishop.' The bishop said, 'I will give order for her to appear before me to-morrow at three o'clock in the afternoon.' He then subjected her to a long examination. He asked her, amongst other things, 'Do you not think that private masses help the souls departed?' 'It is great idolatry,' she replied, 'to believe more in them than in the death which Christ died for us.' 'What kind of answer is this?' said the bishop of London. 'It is a weak one,' replied Anne, 'but good enough for such a question.' After the examination, at which Anne made clear and brief replies, Bonner wrote down a certain number of articles of faith, and required that Anne should set her hand to them. She wrote, 'I believe so much thereof as the Holy Scripture doth agree unto.' This was not what Bonner wanted. The bishop pressed the point, and said, 'Sign this document.' Anne then wrote, 'I, Anne Askew, do believe all manner of things contained in the faith of the Catholic Church.' The bishop, well knowing what Anne meant by this word, hurried away into an adjoining room in a great rage.[439] Her cousin Brittayne followed him and implored him to treat his kinswoman kindly. 'She is a woman,' exclaimed the bishop, 'and I am nothing deceived in her.' 'Take her as a woman,' said Brittayne, 'and do not set her weak woman's wit to your lordship's great wisdom.' At length, Anne's two sureties, to wit, Brittayne and Master Spilman of Grays Inn, were on the following day accepted, and she was set at liberty. These events took place in the year 1545.
[Sidenote: SECOND ARREST OF ANNE ASKEW.]
Anne having continued to profess the Gospel, and to have meetings with her friends, she was again arrested three months later, and was brought before the privy council at Greenwich. On the opening of the examination she refused to go into the matter before the council, and said, 'If it be the king's pleasure to hear me, I will show him the truth.' 'It is not meet,' they replied, 'for the king to be troubled with you.' She answered, 'Solomon was reckoned the wisest king that ever lived, yet misliked he not to hear two poor common women; much more his grace a single woman and his faithful subject.' 'Tell me your opinion on the sacrament,' said the lord chancellor. 'I believe,' she said, 'that so oft as I, in a Christian congregation, do receive the bread in remembrance of Christ's death, and with thanksgiving ... I receive therewith the fruits also of his most glorious passion.' 'Make a direct answer to the question,' said Gardiner. 'I will not sing a new song of the Lord,' she said, 'in a strange land.' 'You speak in parables,' said Gardiner. 'It is best for you,' she answered; 'for if I show the open truth, ye will not accept it.' 'You are a parrot,' said the incensed bishop. She replied, 'I am ready to suffer all things at your hands, not only your rebukes, but all that shall follow besides, yea, and all that gladly.'
The next day Anne once more appeared before the council. They began the examination on the subject of transubstantiation. Seeing Lord Parr, uncle to the queen, and Lord Lisle, she said to them, 'It is a great shame for you to counsel contrary to your knowledge.' 'We would gladly,' they answered, 'all things were well.' Gardiner wished to speak privately with her, but this she refused. The lord chancellor then began to examine her again. 'How long,' said Anne, 'will you halt on both sides?' 'You shall be burnt,' said the bishop of London. She replied, 'I have searched all the Scriptures, yet could I never find that either Christ or his apostles put any creature to death.'
Anne was sent back to prison. She was very ill, and believed herself to be near death. Never had she had to endure such attacks. She requested leave to see Latimer, who was still confined in the Tower; but this consolation was not allowed her. Resting firmly, as she did, on Scriptural grounds, she did not suffer herself to swerve. To her constitutional resolution she added that which was the fruit of communion with God; and she was thus placed by faith above the attacks which she experienced. Having a good foundation, she resolutely defended the freedom of her conscience and her full trust in Christ; and not only did she encounter her enemies without wavering, but she spoke to them with a power sufficient to awe them, and gave home-thrusts which threw them into confusion. Nevertheless she was only a weak woman, and her bodily strength began to fail. In Newgate she said,--'The Lord strengthen us in the truth. Pray, pray, pray.' She composed while in prison some stanzas which have been pronounced extraordinary, not only for simple beauty and sublime sentiment, but also for the noble structure and music of the verse.[440]
By law, Anne had a right to be tried by jury; but on June 28, 1546, she was condemned by the lord chancellor and the council, without further process, to be burnt, for having denied the corporal presence of Christ. They asked her whether she wished for a priest; she smiled and said she would confess her faults unto God, for she was sure that He would hear her with favor. She added: 'I think his grace shall well perceive me to be weighed in an uneven pair of balances.... Here I take heaven and earth to record that I shall die in mine innocency.'[441]
[Sidenote: ROYAL PROCLAMATION.]
It was proved that Anne had derived her faith from the Holy Scriptures. Gardiner and his partisans therefore prevailed upon the government, eight days before the death of this young Christian, to issue a proclamation purporting 'that from henceforth no man, woman or person of what estate, condition or degree soever he or they be [consequently including the ladies and gentlemen of the court as well as others], shall, after the last day of August next ensuing receive, have, take or keep in their possession the text of the New Testament, of Tyndale's or Coverdale's translation in English, nor any other than is permitted by the Act of Parliament; ... nor after the said day shall receive, have, take or keep in his or their possession any manner of books printed or written in the English tongue which be or shall be set forth in the names of Fryth, Tyndale, Wycliffe, ... Barnes, Coverdale, ... or by any of them; ... and it was required that all such books should be delivered to the mayor, bailiff or chief constable of the town to be openly burned.[442]
This was a remarkable proceeding on the part of Henry VIII. But events were stronger than the proclamation, and it remained a dead letter.
[Sidenote: TORTURE OF ANNE ASKEW.]
Anne's sentence was pronounced before the issue of the proclamation. The trial was over, and there was to be no further inquiry. But her death was not enough to satisfy Rich, Wriothesley and their friends. They had other designs, and were about to perpetrate the most shameful and cruel acts. The object which these men now proposed to themselves was to obtain such evidence as would warrant them in taking proceedings against those ladies of the court who were friends of the Gospel. They went (July 13) to the Tower, where Anne was still confined, and questioned her about her accomplices, naming the duchess-dowager of Suffolk, the countess of Sussex and several others. Anne answered, 'If I should pronounce any thing against them, I should not be able to prove it.' They next asked her whether there were no members of the royal council who gave her their support. She said, none. The king is informed, they replied, that if you choose you can name a great many persons who are members of your sect. She answered that 'the king was as well deceived in that behalf as dissembled with in other matters.' The only effect of these denials was to irritate Wriothesley and his colleague; and, determined at any cost to obtain information against influential persons at the court, they ordered the rack to be applied to the young woman. This torture lasted a long time; but Anne gave no hint, nor even uttered a cry. The lord chancellor, more and more provoked, said to Sir Antony Knevet, lieutenant of the Tower, 'Strain her on the rack again.' The latter refused to do this. It was to no purpose that Wriothesley threatened him if he would not obey.
Rich, a member of the privy council, had frequently given proof of his baseness. Wriothesley was ambitious, inflated with self-conceit, haughty, and easily angered if his advice was not taken. These two men now forgot themselves; and the spectacle was presented of the lord chancellor of England and a privy councillor of the king turned into executioners. They set their own hands to the horrible instrument, and so severely applied the torture to the innocent young woman, that she was almost broken upon it and quite dislocated. She fainted away and was well-nigh dead.[443] 'Then the lieutenant caused me to be loosed; incontinently I swooned, and then they recovered me again. After that I sat two long hours, reasoning with my Lord Chancellor on the bare floor, where he, with many flattering words, persuaded me to leave my opinion.'[444] Henry VIII. himself censured Wriothesley for his cruelty, and excused the lieutenant of the Tower. 'Then was I brought to a house,' says Anne, 'laid in a bed, with as weary and painful bones as ever Job had.' The chancellor sent word to her that if she renounced her faith she should be pardoned and should want for nothing, but that otherwise she should be burnt. She answered, 'I will sooner die.' At the same time she fell on her knees in the dungeon and said: '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 I cast 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 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.'[445]
The 16th of July, the day fixed for the last scene of this tragedy, had arrived; every thing was ready for the burning of Anne at Smithfield. The execution was to take place not in the morning, the usual time, but at nightfall, to make it the more terrible. It was thus, in every sense, a deed of darkness. They were obliged to carry Anne to the place of execution, for in her state at that time she was unable to walk. When she reached the pile, she was bound to the post by her waist, with a chain which prevented her from sinking down. The wretched Shaxton, nominated for the purpose, then completed his apostasy by delivering a sermon on the sacrament of the altar, a sermon abounding in errors. Anne, who was in full possession of her faculties, contented herself with saying, 'He misseth and speaketh without the Book.' Three other evangelical Christians were to die at the same time with her: Belenian, a priest; J. Lacels (Lascelles), of the king's household, probably the man who had revealed the incontinence of Catherine Howard, a deed for which the Roman party hated him; and one Adams, a Colchester man. 'Now, with quietness,' said Lacels, 'I commit the whole world to their pastor and herdsman Jesus Christ, the only Saviour and true Messias....' The letter from which we quote is subscribed, 'John Lacels, late servant to the king, and now I trust to serve the everlasting King, with the testimony of my blood in Smithfield.'[446]
[Sidenote: MARTYRDOM.]
There was an immense gathering of the people. On a platform erected in front of St. Bartholomew's church were seated, as presidents at the execution, Wriothesley, lord chancellor of England, the old duke of Norfolk, the old earl of Bedford, the lord-mayor Bowes, and various other notabilities. When the fire was going to be lighted, the chancellor sent a messenger to Anne Askew, instructed to offer her the king's pardon if she would recant. She answered, 'I am not come hither to deny my Lord and Master.' The same pardon was offered to the other martyrs, but they refused to accept it and turned away their heads. Then stood up the ignorant and fanatical Bowes, and exclaimed with a loud voice, 'Fiat justitia!' Anne was soon wrapt in the flames; and this noble victim who freely offered herself a sacrifice to God, gave up her soul in peace. Her companions did likewise.[447]
These four persons were the last victims of the reign of Henry VIII. The enemies of the Reformation were especially annoyed at this time to see women of the first families of England embrace the faith which they hated. On a woman of most superior mind, but young and weak, fell the last blow levelled against the Gospel by the defender of the faith. Anne Askew fell; but the great doctrines which she had so courageously professed were soon to be triumphant in the midst of her fellow-countrymen.
X. QUEEN CATHERINE IN DANGER OF DEATH
(1546.)
It might be asked how it came to pass that the queen did not put a stop to these cruel executions. The answer is easy--she was herself in danger. The enemies of the Reformation, perceiving her influence over the king, bethought themselves that the execution of Anne Askew and of her companions did not advance their cause; that to make it triumphant the death of the queen was necessary; and that if Catherine were ruined, the Reformation would fall with her. Shortly after the king's return from France, these men approached him and cautiously insinuated that the queen had made large use of her liberty during his absence; that she diligently read and studied the Holy Scriptures; that she chose to have about her only women who shared her opinions; that she had engaged certain would-be wise and pious persons to assist her in attaining a thorough knowledge of the sacred writings; that she held private conferences with them on spiritual subjects all the year round, and that 'in Lent every day in the afternoon, for the space of an hour, one of her said chaplains, in her privy chamber,' expounded the Word of God to the queen, to the ladies of her court and of her bed-chamber and others who were disposed to hear these expositions;[448] that the minister frequently attacked what he called the abuses of the existing church; that the queen read heretical books proscribed by royal ordinances; further, that she, the queen of England, employed her leisure hours in translating religious works, and in composing books of devotion; and that she had turned some of the psalms into verse, and had made a collection entitled Prayers or Meditations. The king had always ignored these meetings, determined not to see, what was nevertheless clear, that the queen was an evangelical Christian like Anne Askew, who had lately been burnt.
[Sidenote: ZEAL OF THE QUEEN.]
Catherine was encouraged by this consideration on the part of the king. She professed her faith in the Gospel unreservedly, and boldly took up the cause of the evangelicals. Her one desire was to make known the truth to the king, and to bring him to the feet of Jesus Christ to find forgiveness for the errors of his life. Without regard to consequences she allowed her overflowing zeal to have free and unrestricted course. She longed to transform not the king alone, but England also. She often exhorted the king 'that as he had, to the glory of God and his eternal fame, begun a good and a godly work in banishing that monstrous idol of Rome, so he would thoroughly perfect and finish the same, cleansing and purging his church of England clean from the dregs thereof, wherein as yet remained great superstition.'[449]
Was the passionate Henry going to act rigorously towards this queen as he had towards the others? Catherine's blameless conduct, the affection which she testified for him, her respectful bearing, her unwearied endeavor to please him, the attentions which she lavished on him, had so much endeared her to him that he allowed her the privilege of being free spoken; and had it not been for the active opposition of its enemies, she might have propagated the Gospel throughout the kingdom. As these determined enemies of the Reformation were beginning to fear the total ruin of their party, they strove to rekindle the evil inclinations of Henry VIII., and to excite his anger against Catherine. In their view it seemed that the boldness of her opinions must inevitably involve her ruin.
But the matter was more difficult than they thought. The king not only loved his wife, but he also liked discussion, especially on theological subjects; and he had too much confidence in his own cleverness and knowledge to dread the arguments of the queen. The latter therefore continued her petty warfare, and in respectful terms advanced good scriptural proofs in support of her faith. Henry used to smile and take it all in good part, or at least never appeared to be offended. Gardiner, Wriothesley and others who heard these discourses were alarmed at them. They were almost ready to give up all for lost; and trembling for themselves, they renounced their project. Not one of them ventured to breathe a word against the queen either before the king or in his absence. At length, they found an unexpected auxiliary.
[Sidenote: THE KING OFFENDED.]
An ulcer burst in the king's leg, and gave him acute pain which constantly increased. Henry had led a sensual life, and had now become so corpulent, that it was exceedingly difficult to move him from one room to another. He insisted that no one should take notice of his failing powers; and those about him hardly dared to speak of the fact in a whisper.[450] His condition made him peevish; he was restless, and thought that his end was not far off. The least thing irritated him; gloomy and passionate, he had frequent fits of rage. To approach and attend to him had become a difficult task; but Catherine, far from avoiding it, was all the more zealous. Since his illness Henry had given up coming into the queen's apartments, but he invited her to come to see him; and she frequently went of her own accord, after dinner, or after supper, or at any other favorable opportunity. The thought that Henry was gradually drawing near to the grave filled her heart with the deepest emotion; and she availed herself of every opportunity of bringing him to a decision in favor of evangelical truth. Her endeavors for this end may sometimes have been made with too much urgency. One evening when Wriothesley and Gardiner, the two leaders of the Catholic party, were with the king, Catherine, who ought to have been on her guard, carried away by the ardor of her faith, endeavored to prevail upon Henry to undertake the reformation of the church. The king was hurt. His notion that the queen was lecturing him as a pupil in the presence of the lord chancellor and the bishop of Winchester, increased his vexation. He roughly 'brake off that matter and took occasion to enter into other talk.'[451] This he had never before done; and Catherine was surprised and perplexed. Henry, however, did not reproach her, but spoke affectionately, which was certainly on his part the mark of real love. The queen having risen to retire, he said to her as usual, 'Farewell! sweet heart.'[452] Catherine meanwhile was disquieted, and felt that keen distress of mind which seizes upon a refined and susceptible woman when she has acted imprudently.
The chancellor and the bishop remained with the king. Gardiner had observed the king's breaking off the conversation; and he thought, says a contemporary, 'that he must strike while the iron was hot;' that he must take advantage of Henry's ill humor, and by a skilful effort get rid of Catherine and put an end to her proselytism. It was a beaten track; the king had already in one way or another rid himself of four of his queens, and it would be an easy matter to do as much with a fifth.
Henry furnished them with the wished-for opportunity. Annoyed at having been humiliated in the presence of the two lords, he said to them in an ironical tone: 'A good hearing it is when women become such clerks; and a thing much to my comfort, to come in mine old days to be taught by my wife.' The bishop adroitly availed himself of this opening, and put forth all his powers and all his malice to increase the anger of the king. He urged that it was lamentable that the queen 'should so much forget herself as to take upon her to stand in any argument with his Majesty;' he praised the king to his face 'for his rare virtues, and especially for his learned judgment in matters of religion, above not only princes of that and other ages, but also above doctors professed in theology.' He said 'that it was an unseemly thing for any of his majesty's subjects to reason and argue with him so malapertly,' and that it was 'grievous to him (Gardiner) for his part, and other of his majesty's counsellors and servants to hear the same.' He added 'that they all by proof knew his wisdom to be such, that it was not needful for any to put him in mind of any such matters; inferring, moreover, how dangerous and perilous a matter it is ... for a prince to suffer such insolent words at his subjects' hands, who, as they take boldness to contrary their sovereign in words, so want they no will, but only power and strength, to overthwart him in deeds.[453] Besides this, that the religion by the queen so stiffly maintained did not only disallow and dissolve the policy and politic government of princes, but also taught the people that all things ought to be in common.'[454] The bishop went on to assert that 'whosoever (saving the reverence due to her for his majesty's sake) should defend the principles maintained by the queen, deserved death.' He did not, however, dare, he said, to speak of the queen, unless he were sure that his majesty would be his buckler. But with his majesty's consent his faithful counsellors would soon tear off the hypocritical mask of heresy and would disclose treasons so horrible that his majesty would no longer cherish a serpent in his own bosom.
[Sidenote: THE KING'S DISTRUST.]
The lord chancellor spoke in his turn; and the two conspirators did every thing they could to stir up the anger of the king against the queen. They filled his head with a thousand tales, both about herself and about some of her lady-attendants; they told him that they had been favorable to Anne Askew; that they had in their possession heretical books; and that they were guilty of treason as well as of heresy. Suspicion and distrust, to which the king's disposition was too naturally inclined, took possession of him, and he required his two councillors to ascertain whether any articles of law could be brought forward against the queen, even at the risk of her life.[455] They quitted the king's presence, promising to make very good use of the commission entrusted to them.
The bishop and the chancellor set to work immediately. They resorted to means of every kind--tricks, intrigues, secret correspondence--for the purpose of making out an appearance of guilt on the part of the queen. By bribing some of her domestics they were enabled to get a catalogue of the books which she had in her cabinet. Taking counsel with some of their accomplices, it occurred to them that if they began by attacking the queen, this step would excite almost universal reprobation. They determined, therefore, to prepare men's minds by making a beginning with the ladies who enjoyed her confidence, and particularly with those of her own kindred--Lady Herbert, afterwards countess of Pembroke, the queen's sister, and first lady of her court; Lady Lane, her cousin-german; and Lady Tyrwit, who by her virtues had gained her entire confidence. Their plan was to examine these three ladies on the Six Articles; to institute a rigorous search in their houses with a view to find some ground of accusation against Queen Catherine; and, in case they should succeed, to arrest the queen herself and carry her off by night, in a bark, to the Tower. The further they proceeded with their work of darkness, the more they encouraged and cheered each other on; they considered themselves quite strong enough to strike at once the great blow, and they resolved to make the first attack on the queen. They therefore drew up against her a bill of indictment, which purported especially that she had contravened the Six Articles, had violated the royal proclamation by reading prohibited books, and, in short, had openly maintained heretical doctrine. Nothing was wanting but to get the king's signature to the bill; for if, without the sanction of this signature, they should cast suspicions on the queen, they would expose themselves to a charge of high treason.[456]
Henry VIII. was now at Whitehall; and in consequence of the state of his health he very seldom left his private apartments. But few of his councillors, and these only by special order, were allowed to see him. Gardiner and Wriothesley alone came to the palace more frequently than usual to confer with him on the mission which he had entrusted to them. Taking with them their hateful indictment, they went to the palace, were admitted to the king's presence, and after a suitable introduction they laid before him the fatal document, requesting him to sign it. Henry read it, and took careful note of its contents; then asked for writing materials, and notwithstanding his feebleness he signed it. This was a great victory for the bishop, the chancellor and the Catholic party; and it was a great defeat for the Reformation, apparently the signal for its ruin. Nothing was now wanting but a writ of arrest, and the chancellor of England would send the queen to the Tower. Once there, her situation would be hopeless.
So cleverly had the plot been managed, that during the whole time the queen had neither known nor suspected any thing; she paid her usual visits to the king, and had gradually allowed herself to speak to him on religion as she used to do. The king permitted this without gainsaying her; he did not choose to enter into explanations with her. He was, however, ill at ease. The burden was oppressive; and one evening, just after the queen left him, he opened his mind to one of his physicians, in whom he placed full confidence, and said: 'I do not like the queen's religion, and I do not intend to be much longer worried by the discourses of this doctoress.' He likewise revealed to the physician the project formed by some of his councillors, but forbade him, upon pain of death, to say a word about it to any living soul. Apparently forgetting the wives whom he had already sacrificed, Henry was thus coolly preparing, at the very time when he was himself about to go down to the grave, to add another victim to the hecatomb.
[Sidenote: BILL OF INDICTMENT.]
The queen, although encompassed with deadly enemies who were contriving her ruin, was in a state of perfect calmness, when suddenly there burst upon her one of those heavy squalls which in the twinkling of an eye dash the most powerful vessels against the rocks. The chancellor, contented with his triumph, but at the same time agitated, snatched up the paper which, now bearing the king's signature, ensured the death of the queen. Vehement passions sometimes distract men and produce absence of mind. In this case it appears that Wriothesley carelessly thrust the paper into his bosom, and dropped it while crossing one of the apartments of the palace.[457] A pious woman of the court, happening to pass that way shortly afterwards, saw the paper and picked it up. Perceiving at the first glance its importance she took it immediately to the queen. Catherine opened it, read the articles with fear and trembling, and as soon as she saw Henry's signature, was struck as by a thunderbolt, and fell into a frightful agony. Her features were completely changed: she uttered loud cries, and seemed to be in her death-struggle. She too, then, was to lay down her life on the scaffold. All her attentions, all her devotion to the king, had availed nothing; she must undergo the common lot of the wives of Henry VIII. She bewailed her fate, and struggled against it. At other times she had glimpses of her own faults and uttered reproaches against herself, and then her distress and her lamentations increased. Those of her ladies who were present could hardly bear the sight of so woful a state; and, trembling themselves, and supposing that the queen was about to be put to death, they were unable to offer her consolation. The remembrance of this harrowing scene was never effaced from their minds.[458]
Some one brought word to the king that the queen was in terrible distress, and that her life seemed to be in danger.[459] A feeling of compassion was awakened in him, and he sent to her immediately the physicians who were with him. They, finding Catherine in this extremity, endeavored to bring her to herself, and gradually she recovered her senses. The physician to whom Henry had revealed Gardiner's project,[460] discovering from some words uttered by the queen that the conspiracy was the cause of her anxiety, requested leave to speak to her in private. He told her that he was risking his life by thus speaking to her, but that his conscience would not allow him to take part in the shedding of innocent blood. He therefore confirmed the foreboding of danger which was impending over her; but added that if she henceforward endeavored to behave with humble submission to his majesty, she would regain, he did not doubt, his pardon and his favor.
[Sidenote: DISTRESS OF THE QUEEN.]
These words were not enough to deliver Catherine from her disquietude. Her danger was not concealed from the king; and, unable to endure the thought that she might die of grief, he had himself carried into her room. At the sight of the king Catherine rallied sufficiently to explain to him the despair into which she was thrown by the belief that he had totally abandoned her. Henry then spoke to her as an affectionate husband, and comforted her with gentle words; and this poor heart, till then agitated like a stormy sea, gradually became calm again.
The king could now forget the faults of the queen; but the queen herself did not forget them. She understood that she had habitually assumed a higher position than belonged to a wife, and that the king was entitled to an assurance that this state of things should be changed. After supper the next evening, therefore, Catherine rose and, taking with her only her sister, Lady Herbert on whom she leaned, and Lady Jane, who carried a light before her, went to the king's bed-chamber. When the three ladies were introduced, Henry was seated and speaking with several gentlemen who stood round him. He received the queen very courteously, and of his own accord, contrary to his usual practice, began to talk with her about religion, as if there was one point on which he wished for further information from the queen. She replied discreetly and as the circumstances required. She then added meekly and in a serious and respectful tone,--'Your Majesty doth right well know, neither I myself am ignorant, what great imperfection and weakness by our first creation is allotted unto us women, to be ordained and appointed as inferior and subject unto man as our head; from which head all our direction ought to proceed. And that as God made man in his own shape and likeness, whereby he being endued with more special gifts of perfection, might rather be stirred to the contemplation of heavenly things and to the earnest endeavor to obey his commandments, even so also made he woman of man, of whom and by whom she is to be governed, commanded and directed.... Your majesty being so excellent in gifts and ornaments of wisdom, and I a silly poor woman, so much inferior in all respects of nature unto you, how then cometh it now to pass that your majesty in such diffuse causes of religion will seem to require my judgment? Which when I have uttered and said what I can, yet must I, will I, refer my judgment ... to your majesty's wisdom, as my only anchor, supreme head and governor here in earth, next unto God, to lean unto.' 'Not so by St. Mary,' said the king; 'you are become a doctor, Kate, to instruct (as we take it), and not to be instructed or directed by us.' 'If your majesty take it so,' replied the queen, 'then hath your majesty very much mistaken me, who have been of the opinion, to think it very unseemly and preposterous for the woman to take upon her the office of an instructor or teacher to her lord and husband, but rather to learn of her husband and be taught by him. And whereas I have, with your majesty's leave, heretofore been bold to hold talk with your majesty, wherein sometimes in opinions there hath seemed some difference, I have not done it so much to maintain opinion, as I did it rather to minister talk, not only to the end your majesty might with less grief pass over this painful time of your infirmity,[461] being attentive to our talk, and hoping that your majesty should reap some ease thereby; but also that I, hearing your majesty's learned discourse, might receive to myself some profit thereby; wherein I assure your majesty, I have not missed any part of my desire in that behalf, always referring myself in all such matters unto your majesty, as by ordinance of nature it is convenient for me to do.' 'And is it even so?' answered the king; 'and tended your arguments to no worse end? Then perfect friends we are now again, as ever at any time heretofore.' Then, as if to seal this promise, Henry, who was sitting in his chair, embraced the queen and kissed her. He added: 'It does me more good at this time to hear the words of your mouth, than if I had heard present news of a hundred thousand pounds in money had fallen unto me.' Lavishing on Catherine tokens of his affection and his happiness, he promised her that such misapprehensions with regard to her should never arise again. Then, resuming general conversation, he talked on various interesting subjects with the queen and with the lords who were present, until the night was advanced; when he gave the signal for their departure. There may possibly have been somewhat of exaggeration in Catherine's words. She had not been altogether so submissive a learner as she said; but she felt the imperative necessity of entirely dispersing the clouds which the ill-will of her enemies had gathered over the king's mind, and it is not to be doubted that in saying what she did she uttered her inmost thought.
[Sidenote: RECONCILIATION.]
Meanwhile the queen's enemies, who had no suspicion of the turn things were taking, gave their orders and made their preparations for the great work of the morrow, which was to confine Catherine in the Tower. The day was fine, and the king wishing to take an airing went in the afternoon into the park, accompanied only by two of the gentlemen of his bed-chamber. He sent an invitation to the queen to bear him company; and Catherine immediately arrived, attended by her three favorite ladies in waiting. Conversation began, but they did not talk of theology. Never had the king appeared more amiable; and his good humor inspired the rest with cheerfulness. In his conversation there was all the liveliness of a frank communicative disposition, and the mirth, it seems, was even noisy.[462] Suddenly, forty halberds were seen gleaming through the park trees. The lord chancellor was at the head of the men, and forty bodyguards followed him. He was coming to arrest the queen and her three ladies and to conduct them to the Tower. The king, breaking off the conversation which entertained him so pleasantly, glanced sternly at the chancellor, and stepping a little aside called him to him. The chancellor knelt down and addressed to the king, in a low voice, some words which Catherine could not understand. She heard only that Henry replied to him in insulting terms, 'Fool, madman, arrant knave!' At the same time he commanded the chancellor to be gone. Wriothesley and his followers disappeared. Such was the end of the conspiracy formed against the king's Protestant wife by Wriothesley, Gardiner, and their friends. Henry then rejoined the queen. His features still reflected his excitement and anger; but as he approached her he tried to assume an air of serenity. She had not clearly understood what was the subject of conversation between the king and the chancellor; but the king's words had startled her. She received him gracefully and sought to excuse Wriothesley, saying: 'Albeit I know not what just cause your majesty has at this time to be offended with him, yet I think that ignorance, not will, was the cause of his error; and so I beseech your majesty (if the cause be not very heinous), at my humble suit to take it.' 'Ah, poor soul!' said the king, 'thou little knowest how evil he deserveth this grace at thy hands.'[463]
XI. CLOSE OF THE REIGN OF HENRY VIII
(1546-JANUARY, 1547.)
[Sidenote: THE NEW COURT.]
Weighty consequences followed the miscarriage of the conspiracy formed against the queen. It had been aimed at the queen and the Reformation; but it turned against Roman Catholicism and its leaders. The proverb was again fulfilled,--'Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein.' The wind changed; Romanism suffered an eclipse, it was no longer illumined by the sun of royalty. The first to fall into disgrace with Henry VIII. was, as we have seen, Wriothesley. The king displayed his coolness in various ways. The chancellor, disquieted and alarmed for his own pecuniary interests, was annoyed to see preparations for establishing a new Court of Augmentations, by which his privileges and emoluments would be lessened. He earnestly entreated the king that it might not be established in his time. 'I shall have cause,' he wrote, on October 16, 'to be sorry in my heart during my life, if the favor of my gracious master shall so fail, that partly in respect of his poor servant he do not somewhat of his clemency temper it. Thus I make an end, praying God long to preserve his Majesty.'[464] In spite of all his efforts, he lost the royal favor, and the new court which he so much dreaded was erected.
A still heavier blow fell upon Gardiner. After the reconciliation between Henry and Catherine, he was obliged to abstain from making his appearance at the court.[465] On December 2, he wrote to the king: 'I am so bold to molest your Majesty with these very letters, which be only to desire your Highness, of your accustomed goodness and clemency, to be my good and gracious lord, and to continue such opinion of me as I have ever trusted and, by manifold benefits, certainly known your Majesty to have had of me ... declare mine inward rejoice of your Highness' favor, and that I would not willingly offend your Majesty for no worldly thing.' This man, at other times so strong, now saw before him nothing but disgrace and became excessively fearful. He might be overtaken by a long series of penalties. Who could tell whether Henry, like Ahasuerus of old, would not inflict upon the accuser the fate which he had designed for the accused? The bishop, restless, wrote to Paget, secretary of state: 'I hear no specialty of the king's majesty's miscontentment in this matter of lands, but confusedly that my doings should not be well taken.'[466] No answer to either of these two letters is extant. Towards the end of December, the king excluded Gardiner from the number of his executors and from the council of regency under his successor, Edward; and this involved a heavy loss of honor, money, and influence. Henry felt that for the guardianship of his son and of his realm, he must make his choice between Cranmer and Gardiner. Cranmer was selected. It was in vain that Sir Antony Browne appealed to him, and requested him to reinstate the bishop of Winchester in this office. 'If he be left among you,' said the king, 'he would only sow trouble and division. Don't speak of it.' The conspiracy against the queen was not the sole, although it was the determining, cause of Gardiner's disgrace.[467]
This, however, was but the beginning of the storm. The first lord of the realm and his family were about to be attacked. If Henry no longer struck to the right, he struck to the left; but he dealt his blows without intermission; in one thing he was ever consistent, cruelty.
[Sidenote: PARTIES AT THE COURT.]
In addition to the suffering caused by his disease, the king was oppressed by anxiety at the thought of the ambition and rebellion which might snatch the crown from his son and create disturbances in the kingdom after his death. The court was at this time divided into two parties. One of these was headed by the duke of Norfolk, who, owing to his position as chief of the ancient family of the Howards, allied even to the blood royal, was next to the king the most influential man in England. He had long been lord treasurer, and had rendered signal services to the crown. Opposed to this party was that of the Seymours, who had not hitherto played any great part, but who now, as uncles to the young prince, found themselves continually advancing in esteem and authority. Norfolk was the chief of the Catholic party; and a great number of evangelical Christians had been burnt while he was at the head of the government. His son, the earl of Surrey, was likewise attached to the doctrines of the Middle Ages, and was even suspected of having associated in Italy with Cardinal Pole. The Seymours, on the other hand, had always shown themselves friendly to the Reformation; and while Norfolk supported Gardiner, they supported Cranmer. It appeared inevitable that, after the king's death, war would break out between these chiefs, and what would happen then? The more Henry's strength declined, the more numerous became the partisans of the Seymours. The sun was rising for the uncles of the young prince, and was setting for Norfolk. The duke, perceiving this, made advances to the Seymours. He would have liked his son to marry the daughter of the earl of Hertford, and his daughter, widow of the duke of Richmond, the natural son of the king, to marry Sir Thomas Seymour. But neither Surrey nor the duchess were disposed to the match. There was therefore nothing to expect but a vigorous conflict; and the king chose that the victory of the one party and the defeat of the other should be determined in his lifetime and through his intervention. To which of the two parties would the king give the preference? He had always leaned for support upon Norfolk, and the religious views of this old servant were his own. Would he separate from him at this critical moment? After having from the first resisted the Reformation, would he, on the brink of the grave, give it the victory? The past had belonged to Roman Catholicism; should the future belong to the Gospel? Should his death belie his whole life? The infamous conspiracy formed against the queen by the Catholic party would not have been enough to induce the king to adopt so strange a resolution. A circumstance of another kind occurred to determine his course.
At the beginning of December, 1546, Sir Richard Southwell, who was afterwards a member of the privy council under Queen Mary, gave the king a warning that the powerful family of the Howards would expose his son to great danger. Before the birth of Edward, Norfolk had been designated as one of the claimants of the crown. His eldest son was a young man of great intelligence, high spirit and indomitable courage, and excelled in military exercises. To these qualifications he added the polish of a courtier, fine taste and an ardent love for the fine arts; his contemporaries were charmed by his poems; and he was looked upon as the flower of the English nobility. These brilliant endowments formed a snare for him. 'His head,' people said to the king, 'is filled with ambitious projects.' He had borne the arms of Edward the Confessor in the first quarter, which the king alone had the right to do; if, it was added, he has refused the hand of the daughter of the earl of Hertford, it is because he aspires to that of the princess Mary; and if he should marry her after the death of the king, prince Edward will lose the crown.
The king ordered his chancellor to investigate the charges against the duke of Norfolk and his son, the earl of Surrey; and Wriothesley ere long presented to him a paper, in the form of questions, in his (Wriothesley's) own handwriting. The king read it attentively, pen in hand, hardly able to repress his anger, and underlined with a trembling hand those passages which appeared to him the most important. The following sentences are specimens of what he read:--
'If a man coming of the collateral line to the heir of the crown, who ought not to bear the arms of England but on the second quarter ... do presume ... to bear them in the first quarter, ... how this man's intent is to be judged....
'If a man compassing with himself to govern the realm do actually go about to rule the king, and should for that purpose advise his daughter or sister to become his harlot, thinking thereby to bring it to pass ... what this importeth.
'If a man say these words,--If the king die, who should have the rule of the prince but my father or I? what it importeth.'[468]
[Sidenote: THE ARREST.]
On Saturday, December 12, the duke and the earl were separately arrested and taken to the Tower, one by land, the other by the river, neither of them being aware that the other was suffering the same fate. The king had often shown himself very hasty in a matter of this kind; but in this case he was more so than usual. He had not long to live, and he desired that these two great lords should go before him to the grave. The same evening the king sent Sir Richard Southwell, Sir John Gate, and Wymound Carew to Kenninghall, in Norfolk, a principal seat of the family, about eighty miles from London. They travelled as swiftly as they could, and arrived at the mansion by daybreak on Tuesday. They had orders to examine the members of the family, and to affix seals to the effects.
The Howard family, unhappily for itself, was deeply divided. The duchess of Norfolk, daughter of the duke of Buckingham, an irritable and passionate woman, had been separated from her husband since 1553, and apparently not without reason. She said of one of the ladies who were in attendance on her, Elizabeth Holland,--'This woman is the cause of all my unhappiness.' There was a certain coolness between the earl of Surrey and his sister, the duchess of Richmond, probably because the latter leaned to the side of the Reformation. Surrey had also had a quarrel with his father, and he was hardly yet reconciled to him. A house divided against itself will not stand. The members of the family, therefore, accused each other; the duchess, it may be believed, did not spare her husband, and the duke called his son a fool. When Sir Richard Southwell and his two companions arrived at Kenninghall on Tuesday morning, they caused all the doors to be securely closed so that no one might escape; and after having taken some evidence of the almoner, they requested to see the duchess of Richmond, the only member of the family then at the mansion, and Mistress Elizabeth Holland, who passed for the duke's favorite. These ladies had only just risen from their beds, and were not ready to make their appearance. However, when they heard that the king's envoys requested to see them, they betook themselves as quickly as possible to the dining-room. Sir John Gate and his friends informed them that the duke and the earl had just been committed to the Tower. The duchess, deeply moved at this startling news, trembled and almost fainted away.[469] She gradually recovered herself, and kneeling down humbled herself as though she were in the king's presence. She said: 'Although nature constrains me sore to love my father, whom I have ever thought to be a true and faithful subject, and also to desire the well-doing of his son, my natural brother, whom I note to be a rash man, yet for my part I would nor will hide or conceal any thing from his Majesty's knowledge, specially if it be of weight.' The king's agent searched the house of the duchess of Richmond, inspected her cabinets and her coffers, but they found nothing tending to compromise her. They found no jewels, for she had parted with her own to pay her debts. Next, they visited Elizabeth Holland's room, where they found much gold, many pearls, rings and precious stones; and of these they sent a list to the king. They laid aside the books and manuscripts of the duke; and the next day by their direction the duchess of Richmond and Mistress Holland set out for London, where they were to be examined.
[Sidenote: DIVISIONS OF THE HOWARDS.]
Mistress Holland was examined first. She deposed that the duke had said to her 'that the king was sickly, and could not long endure; and the realm like to be in an ill case through diversity of opinions.' The duchess of Richmond deposed 'that the duke her father would have had her marry Sir Thomas Seymour, brother to the earl of Hertford, which her brother also desired, wishing her withal to endear herself so into the king's favor, as she might the better rule here as others had done; and that she refused.'[470] This deposition appears to corroborate one of the charges brought against Norfolk by the chancellor. Nevertheless, the supposition that a father, from ambitious motives, could urge his daughter to consent to incestuous intercourse is so revolting, that one can hardly help asking whether there really was any thing more in the case than an exercise of the natural influence of a daughter-in-law over her father-in-law. The duchess corroborated the accusation touching the royal arms borne by Surrey, his hatred of the Seymours, and the ill which he meditated doing them after the king's death; and she added that he had urged her not to carry too far the reading of the Holy Scriptures.
Various other depositions having been taken, the duke and his son were declared guilty of high treason (January 7). On the 13th, Surrey was tried before a jury at Guildhall. He defended himself with much spirit; but he was condemned to death; and this young nobleman, only thirty years of age, the idol of his countrymen, was executed on Tower Hill, January 21.[471] Public feeling was shocked by this act of cruelty, and every one extolled the high qualities of the earl. His sister, the duchess of Richmond, took charge of his five children, and admirably fulfilled her duty as their aunt.[472]
[Sidenote: NORFOLK'S APPEAL TO THE KING.]
The king was now dangerously ill, but he showed no signs of tenderness. People said that he had never hated nor ruined any one by halves; and he was determined, after the death of the eldest son, to sacrifice the father. Norfolk was very much surprised to find himself a prisoner in the Tower, to which he had consigned so many prisoners. He wrote to the lords to let him have some books, for he said that unless he could read he fell asleep. He asked also for a confessor, as he was desirous of receiving his Creator; and for permission to hear mass and to walk outside his apartment in the daytime. At the age of seventy-three, after having taken the lead in the most cruel measures of the reign of Henry VIII., from the death of Anne Boleyn to the death of Anne Askew, he now found that the day of terror was approaching for himself. His heart was agitated and fear chilled him. He knew the king too well to have any hope that the great and numerous services which he had rendered to him would avail to arrest the sword already suspended over his head. Meanwhile the prospect of death alarmed him; and in his distress he wrote from his prison in the Tower to his royal master:--'Most gracious and merciful sovereign lord, I, your most humble subject, prostrate at your foot, do most humbly beseech you to be my good and gracious lord.... In all my life I never thought one untrue thought against you or your succession, nor can no more judge or cast in my mind what should be laid to my charge than the child that was born this night.... I know not that I have offended any man... unless it were such as are angry with me for being quick against such as have been accused for sacramentaries.' And fancying that he detected the secret motive of his trial, he added: 'Let me recover your gracious favor, with taking of me all the lands and goods I have, or as much thereof as pleaseth your Highness.'[473]
The charges brought against Norfolk and Surrey were mere pretexts. No notice having been taken of the letter just cited, the old man, who was anxious by any means to save his life, determined to humble himself still further. On January 12, nine days before the death of Surrey, in the hope of satisfying the king, he made, in the presence of the members of the privy council, the following confession:--'I, Thomas, duke of Norfolk, do confess and acknowledge myself... to have offended the king's most excellent majesty, in the disclosing... of his privy and secret counsel... to the great peril of his Highness.... That I have concealed high treason, in keeping secret the false and traitorous act... committed by my son... against the king's majesty... in the putting and using the arms of Edward the Confessor,... in his scutcheon or arms.... Also, that to the peril, slander, and disinherison of the king's majesty and his noble son, Prince Edward, I have... borne in the first quarter of my arms... the arms of England.... Although I be not worthy to have... the king's clemency and mercy to be extended to me,... yet with a most sorrowful and repentant heart do beseech his Highness to have mercy, pity, and compassion on me.'[474]
All was fruitless; Norfolk must die like the best servants and friends of the king, like Fisher, Sir Thomas More, and Cromwell. But the duke could not be condemned with so little formality as Surrey. The king, therefore, assembled the parliament; a bill was presented to the House of Lords, and the three readings were hurried through on January 18, 19, 20. The bill, sent down to the Commons, was passed by them, and was sent back on the 24th. Although it was customary to reserve the final step to the close of the session, the king, who was in haste, gave his assent on Thursday the 27th, and the execution of Norfolk was fixed for the morning of the next day. All the preparations for this last act were made during the night; and but a few moments were to intervene before this once powerful man was to be led to the scaffold.
Two victims were now awaiting the remorseless scythe of destiny. Death was approaching at the same time the threshold of the palace and that of the prison. Two men who had filled the world with their renown, who during their lifetime had been closely united, and were the foremost personages of the realm, were about to pass the inexorable gates and to be bound with those bonds which God alone can burst. The only question was which of the two would be the first to receive the final stroke. The general expectation was, no doubt, that Norfolk would be the first, for the executioner was already sharpening the axe which was to smite him.
[Sidenote: LAST HOURS OF HENRY VIII.]
While the duke, still full of vigorous life, was awaiting in his dungeon the cruel death which he had striven so much to avert, Henry VIII. was prostrate on his sick bed at Whitehall. Although every thing showed that his last hour was at hand, his physicians did not venture to inform him of it; as it was against the law for any one to speak of the death of the king. One might have said that he was determined to have himself declared immortal by act of parliament. At length, however, Sir Antony Denny, who hardly ever left him, took courage and, approaching the bedside of the dying monarch, cautiously told him that all hope, humanly speaking, was lost, and entreated him to prepare for death. The king, conscious of his failing strength, accused himself of various offences, but added that the grace of God could forgive him all his sins. It has been asserted that he did really repent of his errors. 'Several English gentlemen,' says Thevet, 'assured me that he was truly repentant, and among other things, on account of the injury and crime committed against the said queen (Anne Boleyn).'[475] This is not certain; but we know that Denny, glad to hear him speak of his sins, asked him whether he did not wish to see some ecclesiastic. 'If I see any one,' said Henry, 'it must be Archbishop Cranmer.' 'Shall I send for him?' said Denny. The king replied: 'I will first take a little sleep, and then, as I feel myself, I will advise upon the matter.' An hour or two later the king awoke, and finding that he was now weaker, he asked for Cranmer. The archbishop was at Croydon; and when he arrived the dying man was unable to speak, and was almost unconscious. However, when he saw the primate, he stretched out his hand, but could not utter a word. The archbishop exhorted him to put all his trust in Christ and to implore his mercy. 'Give some token with your eyes or hand,' he said, 'that you trust in the Lord.' The king wrung Cranmer's hand as hard as he could, and soon after breathed his last. He died at two o'clock in the morning, Friday, January 28, 1547.[476]
By Henry's death Norfolk's life was saved. The new government declined to begin the new reign by putting to death the foremost peer of England. Norfolk lived for eight years longer. He spent, indeed, the greater part of it in prison; but for more than a year he was at liberty, and died at last at Kenninghall.
Henry died at the age of fifty-six years. It is no easy task to sketch the character of a prince whose principal feature was inconsistency. Moreover, as Lord Herbert of Cherbury said, his history is his best portrait. The epoch in which he lived was that of a resurrection of the human mind. Literature and the arts, political liberty, and evangelical faith were now coming forth from the tomb and returning to life. The human mind, since the outburst of bright light which then illumined it, has sometimes given itself up, it must be confessed, to strange errors; but it has never again fallen into its old sleep. There were some kings, such as Henry VIII. and Francis I., who took an interest in the revival of letters; but the greater number were alarmed at the revival of freedom and of faith, and instead of welcoming tried to stifle them. Some authors, and particularly Fox, have asserted that if death had not prevented him, Henry VIII. would have so securely established the Reformation as not to leave a single mass in the kingdom. This is nothing more than a hypothesis, and it appears to us a very doubtful one. The king had made his will two years before his death, when he was setting out for the war with France. In it, his chief object was to regulate the order of succession and the composition of the council of regency; but at the same time it contains positive signs of scholastic Catholicism. In this document the king says: 'We do instantly desire and require the blessed Virgin Mary His mother, with all the holy company of heaven, continually to pray for us and with us while we live in this world, and in time of passing out of the same.'
[Sidenote: HIS WILL.]
Moreover, he ordained that the dean and canons of the chapel royal, Windsor, and their successors forever, should have two priests to say masses at the altar.[477] The will was rewritten on December 13, 1546; and the members of the Privy Council signed it as witnesses. But the only change which the king introduced was the omission of Gardiner's name among the members of the council of regency. The passages respecting the Virgin and masses for his soul were retained.
Henry had brought into the world with him remarkable capacities, and these had been improved by education. He has been praised for his application to the business of the State, for his wonderful cleverness, his rare eloquence, his high courage. He has been looked upon as a Mæcenas, and pronounced a great prince. His abilities certainly give him a place above the average of kings. He regularly attended the council, corresponded with his ambassadors, and took much pains. In politics he had some clear views; he caused the Bible to be printed; but the moral sentiment is shocked when he is held up as a model. The two most conspicuous features of his character were pride and sensuality; and by these vices he was driven to most blameworthy actions, and even to crimes. Pride led him to make himself head of the church, to claim the right to regulate the faith of his subjects, and to punish cruelly those who had the audacity to hold any other opinions on matters of religion than his own. The Reformation, of which he is assumed to be the author, was hardly a pseudo-reform; we might rather see in it another species of _de_formation. Claiming autocracy in matters of faith, he naturally claimed the same in matters of state. All the duties of his subjects were summed up by him in the one word obedience; and those who refused to bow the head to his despotic rule were almost sure to lose it. He was covetous, prodigal, capricious, suspicious; not only was he fickle in his friendships, but on many occasions he did not hesitate to take his victims from amongst his best friends. His treatment of his wives, and especially of Anne Boleyn, condemns him as a man; his bloody persecutions of the evangelicals condemn him as a Christian; the scandalous servility which he endeavored, and not unsuccessfully, to engraft in the nobles, the bishops, the house of commons and the people, condemn him as a king.
I. PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION IN GERMANY
(1520--1536.)
The light of the Gospel had risen upon Europe, and had already pervaded the central and southern portions of this quarter of the world. A new age had begun. The work of the Reformation was not done like that of a council, by articles of discipline; but by the proclamation of a Saviour, living and ever-present in the church; and it thus raised Christendom from its fallen state. To the church in bonds in the rude grasp of the papacy it gave the freedom which is to be found in union with God; and withdrawing men from confessionals and from cells in which they were stifled, it enabled them to breathe a free air under the vault of heaven. At the time of its appearance, the vessel of the church had suffered shipwreck, and the Roman Catholics were tossed about in the midst of traditions, ordinances, canons, constitutions, regulations, decretals, and a thousand human decisions; just as shipwrecked men struggle in the midst of broken masts, parted benches, and scattered oars. The Reformation was the bark of salvation which rescued the unhappy sufferers from the devouring waters, and took them into the ark of the Word of God.
The Reformation did not confine itself to gathering men together, it also gave them a new life. Roman Catholicism is congealed in the forms of the Middle Ages. Destitute of vitality, possessing no fertilizing principle, humanity lay buried in its old grave-clothes. The Reformation was a resurrection. The Gospel imparts a true, pure, and heavenly life, a life which does not grow old, nor fade, nor disappear like that of all created things, but is continually renewed, not indeed by its own efforts, but by the power of God, and knows neither old age nor death. Time was needed for the Gospel, after being buried for ages by the papacy, to throw off all its swaddling-clothes, and resume its free and mighty progress; but its advance was made by an impulse from on high. After having restored to Europe primitive Christianity, the church which sprang from the Reformation overthrew the ancient superstitions of Asia, and of the whole world, and sent a life-giving breath over the fields of death. Churches everywhere called into existence, assemblies of men abounding in good deeds, these are the testimonies of its fertility. The missionaries of this Gospel, although they lived in poverty, spent their days in obscurity, and often encountered death even in a cruel form, nevertheless accomplished a work more beneficial and more heroic than princes and conquerors have done. Rome herself was moved at the sight of all the stations established, all the Bibles put into circulation, all the schools founded, all the children educated, and all the souls converted.
There is, however, one point on which the papacy imagines that it may claim a triumph, that is, unity; and yet on this very point it fails. Roman Catholics know no other unity than that of the disciples of human science,--of mathematics, for example. Just as all the pupils in a school are agreed about the theorems of Euclid, the papacy requires that all the faithful, who in her opinion ought to be nothing but pupils, should be agreed about the dogmas which she establishes in her councils or in her Vatican retreats. Unity, she says, is the assertion of the same decrees. The Gospel is not satisfied with this scholastic uniformity; it demands a union more intimate, more profound, more vital--at once more human and more divine. It requires that all Christians should 'be likeminded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind;' a true 'fellowship of the Spirit;'[478] and this union it founds upon Christ, on the truth--'that there is no salvation in any other,' and on the fact that all those who are saved have in Him the same righteousness, the same redemption.[479] Christ reveals the divine nature of Christian unity,--'I in them,' he said, 'that they may be one as we are one.'[480] This is assuredly something different from the mechanical and scholastic unity of which the Roman doctors make their boast. The unity of the Gospel is not a crystallization like the unity of Rome, it is a movement full of life.
[Sidenote: EFFECTS OF THE REFORMATION.]
All kinds of human progress date from the Reformation. It produced religious progress by substituting for the forms and the rites which are the essence of Romish religion, a life of communion with God. It produced moral progress by introducing, wherever it was established, the reign of conscience and the sacredness of the domestic hearth. It produced political and social progress by giving to the nations which accepted it, an order and a freedom which other nations in vain strive to attain. It produced progress in philosophy and in science, by showing the unity of these human forms of teaching with the knowledge of God. It produced progress in education, the well-being of communities, the prosperity, riches, and greatness of nations. The Reformation, originating in God, beneficially develops what pertains to man. And if pride and passion sometimes happen to impede its movement, and to thrust within its chariot wheels the clubs of incredulity, it presently breaks them, and pursues its victorious course. Its pace is more or less speedy; various circumstances make it slow or swift; but if at one time it is slackened, at another time it is accelerated. It has been in action for three centuries, and has accomplished more in this time than had been effected in the preceding sixteen centuries. It is upheld by a mighty hand. If the truth which was again brought to light in the sixteenth century should once more be entombed, then the sun being veiled the earth would be covered with darkness; it would no longer be possible to discern the way of salvation; moral force would disappear, freedom would depart, modern civilization would once more sink into barbarism, and humanity, deprived of the only guide competent to lead it on, would go astray and perish hopelessly in the desert.
We have narrated in our early volumes the great achievements of the Reformation in Germany, at Worms, Spire, Augsburg, and elsewhere. While these events were astonishing all Europe, the Spirit of God was gently breathing, souls were silently awakening, churches were forming, and the Christian virtues were springing up afresh in Christendom. What took place at that period was very much like what frequently happens in the world of nature. In the higher regions there are great gales, clouds charged with electricity, thunders, lightnings, and torrents of rain. Then in the lower regions, in the valleys and on the plains, the fields refreshed, reviving, grow green again, 'and the earth brings forth first the fruit, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear.'
The Reformation had made great progress in Germany. The Word of God everywhere advanced with much power; and the waters which had gushed forth at Wittenberg, spreading around, quenched the thirst of many souls. Believers were found in all classes, but especially among the traders of the towns.
[Sidenote: JOHN BUGENHAGEN.]
In an island of the Baltic, formed by the two eastern arms of the Oder, and belonging to Pomerania, stands the small town of Wollin, formerly a nest of Danish pirates. Here was born, on June 24, 1485, a man of singular goodness, who became one of the champions of Christian civilization in the sixteenth century, John, son of the councillor Gerard Bugenhagen. He entered in 1502 the university of Greifswald, a town situated on the same sea, and applied himself to the study of languages, the humanities, and also theology. In 1505 he went to Treptow, another town on the Baltic, further eastward, and was appointed rector of the school. He was so successful as a teacher that Bodelwin, abbot of a neighboring convent, invited him to become professor of theology in a college instituted for the teaching of the sciences. Here he expounded the Scriptures, for the most part according to the views of Augustine and Jerome. Priests, monks, and townsmen came to hear him; and although he was not ordained, his friends strongly urged him to preach. This he did, to the great delight of his hearers, among whom were some of noble rank.[481]
'Alas!' said Bugenhagen, afterwards, 'I was still in the strait bonds of pharisaic piety, and I had no true understanding of the Holy Scriptures. We were all so deeply sunk in the doctrine of the pope, that we had not even a wish to know the doctrine of the Word of God.' There were however desires and longings in his heart; but what he wanted remained as a writing in cipher, of which he was unable to discover the key. It was quite suddenly at last that he found it.
Towards the close of 1520, he dined with some professors and friends at the house of Otto Slutov, one of the patricians of the town and inspector of the church of Treptow. Slutov had just received a copy of Luther's 'Babylonish Captivity.' 'You must read that,' he said to Bugenhagen, as he laid the volume upon the table, around which the guests were seated. Availing himself of the invitation, the rector turned over the leaves of the book during dinner-time, and after having read some passages he said aloud to the company present,--'Since the birth of Christ, many heretics have attacked and roundly abused the church; but among them there has not been one more execrable than the man who has written this book.' He, however, took away the volume by leave of his host, read it and reread it, meditated and deliberately weighed its contents; and at each perusal scales seemed to fall from his eyes. Some days afterwards, finding himself in the same company, he made a confession to them. 'What shall I say to you? The whole world is blind and plunged in the deepest darkness. This man alone sees the truth.' He read to his friends page after page, undertook the defence of each paragraph, and brought most of them to the same convictions that he had received himself. J. Kyrich, J. Lorich, the deacon Kettelhut, Abbot Bodelwin and others acknowledged the errors of the papacy, and endeavored to turn people from their superstitions and to make known to them the merits of Jesus Christ. This was the beginning of the Reformation in Pomerania.
[Sidenote: CONVERSION OF BUGENHAGEN.]
Bugenhagen began to read Luther's other writings; and he was especially charmed with his exposition of the difference between the Law and the Gospel, and of the doctrine of justification by faith. Persecution soon began, instigated by the bishop of Camin. Bugenhagen, who earnestly desired to see the places whence the light had come, betook himself to Wittenberg, arriving there in 1521, shortly before the departure of the reformer to Worms. The Pomeranian was joyfully received by Luther and Melanchthon, who thenceforth usually called him 'Pomeranus.' His desire was to be a student, not a teacher; but having begun, in his own room, to explain the Psalms to his countrymen, he did this with so much clearness, such unction and evangelical life, that Melanchthon requested him to give the course publicly. He now became one of the professors of the University, and at the same time pastor of the parish church. He was afterwards (1536) appointed superintendent-general. Melanchthon and Pomeranus completed, each on his special side, the work of Luther. Melanchthon did so in the scientific sphere, by means of his classical culture, and in the political sphere by his discretion. Pomeranus, though undoubtedly inferior to both of them, had great experience and much knowledge of men, and he possessed at the same time gentleness and firmness, abundance of tact and a practical turn of mind, and to all these qualities he added energetic activity. He was thus enabled to render great services in all that related to ecclesiastical organization.[482] There was hardly an important church in whose formation his assistance was not sought. We have already met with him in Denmark.[483]
We have elsewhere seen how the Gospel had been brought to Erfurt by Luther and by Lange, how Frederick Myconius, converted partly by Tetzel's excesses, had preached the Gospel at Zwickau, and how the word had renovated other towns in connection with Wittenberg. When a friend of Luther, Nicholas Hausmann for instance, was called to some place for the work of the Reformation, and came to ask the great doctor's advice, the latter answered: 'If you accept the call, you will make enemies of the pope and the bishops; but if you decline it, you will be the enemy of Christ.' This was enough to induce them to enter upon the work.[484] The evangelical doctrine had been publicly preached at Frankfort-on-the-Main by Ibach, just after the famous diet of Worms. Assemblies of evangelical deputies had been held there in June, 1530, December, 1531, and May, 1536, and this town had joined the alliance of Smalkalde.
The cities of Lower Saxony were the first to be touched by the light which proceeded from electoral Saxony. Magdeburg, where Luther had been at school and had personal friends, had early shown itself friendly to evangelical principles. One day, an old clothier came and stood at the foot of the monument erected in this town to the illustrious Emperor Otto the Great, in memory of his conquests in the tenth century; and the zealous partisan of the spiritual conqueror of the sixteenth century began to sing one of Luther's hymns and to sell copies of it. People were at the time coming out of a neighboring church, where mass had been said. Many had received the leaf, but the burgomaster who was passing with others of the faithful had the seller arrested. This caused the fire which was smouldering under the embers to flame forth. The parishioners of St. Ulrich assembled in the cemetery, elected eight good men to undertake the government of the church. The parish of St. John took part in the movement; and all declared that they attached themselves to their sovereign pastor, bishop, and pope, Jesus Christ, and were ready to fight bravely under this glorious captain. On June 23, 1524, the citizens met together in the convent of the Augustines with seven evangelical pastors, and determined to request the Council that nothing but the Word of God should any longer be preached, and that the Lord's Supper should be administered regularly in both kinds. On July 17, the communion was thus celebrated in all the churches; and the town council, on the 23d of the same month, informed the elector that 'the immutable and eternal Word of God, hitherto obscured by thick shadows, now shone forth, by God's mercy, more brightly than the sun, for the salvation of sinners, the happiness of the faithful, and the glory of God.'[485] They requested the elector at the same time to send Amsdorff to them.
[Sidenote: REFORMATION AT BRUNSWICK.]
Brunswick followed next. The Reformation was introduced into this town chiefly by means of Luther's hymns, which were sung alike in private houses and in the streets. Incumbents of benefices were in the habit of paying young ecclesiastics to preach in their stead. These deacons, usually called 'hireling priests' (Heuer-pfaffen), generally embraced evangelical doctrines, and induced their flocks to do so too. Sometimes one of them would strike up, instead of the hymn to the Virgin Mary, one of these new German hymns, and all the congregation would sing it with him. The clergy endeavored to maintain the Scholastic doctrine; but if the people heard from the lips of their old pastors false quotations from the Holy Scriptures, voices were raised in all directions to correct them. The ecclesiastics in office then summoned to their aid Doctor Sprengel, a preacher highly esteemed in those parts. But at the close of his sermon, a townsman rose and said: 'Priest, thou liest.' He then struck up the hymn of Luther beginning--
O Gott vom Himmel sieh darin--
and the whole congregation sang it heartily with him. The old pastors applied to the Council to rid them of these troublesome deacons; but the people, on the other hand, demanded to be rid of their useless pastors.
The Council, after some hesitation, was at length overcome by the evangelical movement, and passed a decree (March 13, 1528) that the pure Word of God alone should be preached at Brunswick. 'Christ grant that his glory may increase!'[486] said Luther when he heard the news. At the same time the Council begged the Elector of Saxony to send Pomeranus, who, accordingly, on May 12, proceeded to Brunswick, to the great joy of all the people. So admirably did he execute the task of organization that the Brunswickers entreated the Elector to allow him to remain with them a year longer. But Luther assured the prince, September 18, 1528, that the doctor could not possibly be longer spared. 'Wittenberg,' he added, 'is at this time of more importance than three Brunswicks!'[487] This was a moderate assertion; Luther might have said more. For the church of Brunswick Pomeranus drew up ordinances on schools, preaching, the church festivals, baptism, the Lord's Supper, and discipline. Sin was to be punished, but not the sinner. He prepared similar constitutions for various great towns in North Germany. The mendicant monks now left Brunswick, and the Reformation was established.
[Sidenote: HAMBURG AND LUBECK.]
The assistance of Luther and Melanchthon was soon after sought by a more important town. The Gospel had made its way into Hamburg; but the priests and especially the Dominican Renssburg opposed it with all their might. The citizens required of the Council (April 21, 1528) that the preachers should be examined according to the Holy Scriptures, and that all those who were found not to be in agreement with them should be dismissed. Next day, a conference between the two parties was held, in the presence of the senate and a commission of the townsmen. But Renssburg spoke in Latin, in order that the laity might not understand him. As the Roman Catholics put forward exclusively the authority of the Church, five of their number were banished from the town; and some of the most influential of the townsmen felt it necessary to escort them, lest the populace should do them any injury. Pomeranus was at this time called to Hamburg, to organize the evangelical church; and when the Council further applied for an extension of the time of his sojourn, Luther on this occasion supported their request. Hamburg was for him undoubtedly a place of greater importance than Brunswick. But the town made very large demands. On May 12, 1529, Luther wrote to the Elector: 'The Hamburgers would fain have Pomeranus stay with them forever.'[488] Now, new students were daily arriving at Wittenberg, and the faculty could not dispense with the services of Pomeranus. Luther therefore entreated the Elector to recall him, and declared himself willing to persuade the Council and the University to do the same. For Hamburg also Pomeranus drew up an ecclesiastical ordinance.
At Lübeck a powerful and compact party, composed of the clergy, the Council, the nobles, and the principal men of business, resisted the Reformation, the doctrines of which were steadily gaining ground among the townsmen. A psalm in German having been sung by the domestic servants in some house, the whole family was punished, and Luther's sermons were burnt in the market-place in 1528. Two evangelical ministers, Wilhelmi and Wahlhof, were expelled. A certain priest, John Rode, preached that Christ had redeemed only the fathers of the Old Testament, and that all who were born after him must obtain their salvation by their own merits. People used to go about singing to him,--
Celui qui doit nous mener au bercail, Nous fait, hélas! tous tomber dans la fosse.
At a great meeting of the townsfolk, those who meant to remain Catholics were bidden to go apart. Only one person stirred from his place. The Council was in want of money and demanded it of the townsmen, who in reply demanded religious liberty. In 1529 the banished ministers were recalled. In 1530 the Catholic preachers had to evacuate all the pulpits; and in 1531 Pomeranus gave the town an ecclesiastical ordinance.[489]
II. THE PRINCIPALITY OF ANHALT
(1522-1532.)
[Sidenote: DUKE GEORGE OF ANHALT.]
The Reformation met with difficulties in the principality of Anhalt, but the young princes who now ruled the two duchies of which the principality consisted, had had a pious mother, and the seed which her hand had sown in their hearts overcame all obstacles. One of the princes, Wolfgang, had held intercourse with Luther as early as 1522 and had, as we have seen, most willingly signed the Confession of Augsburg.[490] The other three, however, had not followed his example. John, on the contrary, had signed the Compromise of Augsburg, and it was not easy for him to draw back. Surrounded by powerful neighbors entirely devoted to Rome, the elector of Brandenburg, Duke George of Saxony, and the archbishop elector of Mentz, it seemed scarcely possible for them to extricate themselves from the net. Joachim was of a feeble and gloomy temper. Moreover, Prince George was an ecclesiastic at the age of eleven, a canon of Merseburg since 1524, and provost of the chapter of Magdeburg, and seemed to be called to the highest offices of the church. He was born at Dessau in 1501. From his childhood he had shown a strong attachment to church ceremonies and to the traditions of the fathers; and the doctrines of Luther were afterwards depicted to him in the blackest colors. 'This man,' they told him, 'proscribes good books, authorizes bad ones, and abolishes all the holy ordinances. All his followers are Donatists and Wickliffites.' He was henceforth a vehement opponent of a system which, according to his judgment, was destructive of Christianity. When the ministers of Magdeburg attempted to win over the members of the Chapter to the Reformation, he roughly rebuked them. As he was an honest man and was desirous of qualifying himself to contend against the errors of the Protestants, he began to search for arguments in the Holy Scriptures and in the fathers of the church, but it was not possible for him to find any. On the contrary, he was utterly astonished to find that Holy Scripture was opposed to many of the established customs of the church; and that in what was called the new doctrine there were many articles which were found in the Bible, and which had been held by the fathers. His mother, although she continued in the church and counselled her sons not to violate its unity, had believed that she was saved by grace alone, and had with special emphasis professed this faith at the time of her death. George had embraced this faith at an early age; and the bishop of Merseburg had confirmed him in it by rebuking one day a preacher who had exalted human merits, and to whom he had said energetically: 'Not a single living man is righteous.' He repeated the words three times in the presence of George; and now George found the doctrine distinctly asserted in the sacred writings. He wondered within himself whether it could be on this account that the friends of Rome spoke of the Bible as a heretical book and forbade people to read it. But at other times recognizing in it this truth, of which God had kept alive a spark in his heart,[491] he was not a little alarmed, for he saw that it was the very doctrine of Luther. 'I see,' he said to himself, 'that the fathers very much praised the Holy Scriptures, considered them the foundation, and would have no other.' And now the doctors of the church refuse to test their teaching by Scripture! He therefore put to some of them the question on what basis the doctrines of the church were made to rest; and they could not tell him. He observed at the same time, in many of those who defended abuses, spiteful passions, injustice, and calumny; and honest George was at a loss what to think about it. He fell into a deep melancholy, a state of restlessness and distress of mind which nothing could relieve.[492] 'On the one hand,' said he, 'I see the building threatening to fall; on the other I see troubles, disagreements, and the revolt of the peasants.' Luther had indeed opposed this revolt; but, for all that, the prince was terrified and in great distress. 'What shall I do? Which side must I take? God grant that I may determine to do only that which is right, and resolve not to act against my own conscience.' He was haunted by these thoughts day and night. At a later time he said: 'How many a night have I been agitated and depressed, suffering unutterable heaviness of heart. Something dreadful appeared before me; He knows, from whom nothing is concealed. My whole being shuddered. How often this passage came into my mind,--"The sword without, and terrors within." I could do nothing else but cry unto God, as a poor sinner who supplicates his grace.'
In 1530 he received a copy of the Confession of Augsburg, which Wolfgang had signed. He had up to this time read very little the writings of the reformers; and he found that the evangelical doctrine, as set forth in this document, was entirely different from what had been told him. The fundamental doctrines of the apostolical churches were clearly asserted in it, and the ancient heresies were convincingly refuted. The refutation of the Protestant Confession drawn up by the Roman doctors disgusted him. He now began to read the works of Luther, and was struck by the fact that the author exhorted men to good works, although he would have no one place confidence in them. He found, indeed, that Luther was sometimes rather fiery; 'but,' said he, 'so are Jeremiah, Isaiah, Ezekiel and other prophets.' He found that the Gospel of Christ was again in the pulpits. He recollected that his mother had one day said to him with sorrow,--'How is it that our preachers, when they have to speak of the Gospel of Christ, do so with less warmth than the new ministers?' And he thought within himself,--'While the poor people to whom the cowl of St. Francis, satisfaction, and their own merits are recommended, die wretchedly, those who are now directed to Jesus Christ leave this world with joyful hearts.'
[Sidenote: HIS ZEAL FOR THE TRUTH.]
Ere long this prince, who was subsequently known as George the Pious, showed himself zealous for the truth, and gained over his brothers John and Joachim to the Gospel. On Holy Thursday, 1532, when a Dominican who preached at Dessau had vigorously contended against the practice of administering the Supper in both kinds, George dismissed him. The three brothers now gave complete freedom to the Reformation. Duke George of Saxony took care to warn them that they would draw upon themselves the Emperor's displeasure, and that George would not attain to the high honors which he had had reason to hope for. But all this was ineffectual. Towards the close of the summer, Luther wrote to the princes in the following terms: 'I have heard, illustrious princes, that by the power of the Spirit of Christ an end has been put in your dominions to impious abuses, and that you have introduced the practices of Christian communion, not without exposing yourselves to great danger and to the threats of powerful princes. I give God thanks that He has imparted to the three brothers the same spirit and the same strength. Christ, the "weak" king, is in truth and forever the king almighty, and such are the works which he accomplishes. He acts, he lives, he speaks, both in himself and in his members. The beginnings of every work of God are weak, but the results are invincibly strong. The roots of all trees are at first mere slender filaments, or rather a sort of pulp which solidifies; nevertheless from them are produced those huge trees, those oaks, of which are constructed vast buildings, ships and machines.[493] Every work of God begins in weakness and is completed in strength. It is otherwise with the works of men.' On September 14, Luther sent his friend Hausmann to the princes as pastor, 'a man who loves the Word of God and teaches it with discretion.' Prince George, on the ground of his ecclesiastical offices, considered himself to be invested with a legitimate authority in the church of his own dominions. Luther calls him 'right reverend bishop.' When he heard how much George had to suffer 'on the part of Satan, the world, and the flesh,' and that machinations of all kinds were set on foot for attacking him, he made haste to fortify him, writing to him as follows:--'Christ himself hath said--"Be of good comfort, I have overcome the world." If the world be overcome, so likewise is the prince of the world; for when a kingdom is conquered the king also is conquered. And if the prince of this world be conquered, all that proceeds from him shares his defeat,--fury, wrath, sin, death, hell, and all the arms in which he confidently trusted. Glory be to God, who hath given us the victory.'[494]
[Sidenote: PRINCE JOACHIM.]
Prince Joachim, a feebler man than George, found himself assailed by powerful princes who exerted themselves to turn him away from the Gospel, and his resolution was shaken. Luther therefore endeavored to strengthen him. 'Let your Highness but call to mind,' said he, 'that Christ and His word are higher, greater, and surer than a hundred thousand fathers, councils, and popes, whom the Scriptures call sinners and sheep gone astray. Let your Highness then be full of courage. Christ is greater than all devils and all princes.'[495] A year later, Luther, understanding that Joachim had fallen into a state of melancholy, wrote several letters to him. 'A young man like you,' he wrote to him, 'ought to be always cheerful. I counsel you to ride on horseback, to hunt, to seek for pleasant society in which you may piously and honorably enjoy yourself. Solitude and melancholy are penalties and death for all, but especially for a young man. God commands us to be joyful. "Rejoice," says the Preacher, "rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth."'[496]
On March 16, 1534, a meeting was held of all the ecclesiastics of the principality of Anhalt; when, in spite of the opposition of the archbishop, they were ordered to celebrate the Lord's Supper, according to the institution of Christ. Prince George appointed to the livings men who had studied at Wittenberg, and sent his candidates to Luther for examination and consecration.
The country, which takes its name from the ancient castle of Anhalt, the walls of which are still to be seen in the forest of Harzegerode, was one of those in which the Reformation was most peacefully carried out.
We have elsewhere treated of the reformation of Bremen, of Augsburg, and of Würtemberg. Pomerania was not yet reformed, although Pomeranus, the reformer to whom it had given birth, took so prominent a part in the work in many towns and countries. The duke, Bogislas, and the bishop of Camin were resolutely opposed to the Reformation; but here and there amongst the townsmen were ardent aspirations towards the Gospel; and occasionally, likewise, there were excesses and destruction of images. The clergy and the nobles were on the side of the pope; the towns were for the Bible; and the two camps were almost at war. The duke on his travels, in 1523, passed through Wittenberg, and the bishop of Camin, as curious as the duke, appears to have accompanied him. The reformer in his sermon spoke, amongst other things, of the carelessness and luxury of bishops. The duke smiled and looked at his companion.[497] Bogislas sent for Luther, conversed with him in a friendly manner, and said: 'I should like for once to confess to you.' 'I am quite willing,' said the reformer; 'my only fear is that as your Highness is a great prince, you are also a great sinner.' The duke made frank reply that this was only too true. The duke felt also the influence of his son, the young prince Barnim, who had studied at Wittenberg from 1518 to 1521, and who had attended the disputation at Leipsic in 1519. His brother George, on the other hand, brought up at the court of Duke George of Saxony, had there imbibed a hatred of the Gospel. After the death of Bogislas, these two princes became leaders of the two opposing parties. Barnim sent word to the allies of Smalcalde--'What my brother builds up, I shall cast down.' The mother of George appeared friendly to his purpose; and her son Philip having come to an understanding with Barnim, a diet was convoked, in 1533, at Treptow. The towns laid before it a scheme of reformation, which was well received; and Pomeranus was summoned to settle the new order of things. The nobility, however, and the clergy, particularly the bishop of Camin, still energetically opposed the evangelical work.
[Sidenote: WESTPHALIA.]
The conflict was severe in Westphalia.[498] Evangelical truth was well received in some places. Children used to sing Luther's hymns at the doors of houses; the members of a family would sing them by the fireside; the most fearless ventured to do the same in the open air, at first in the evening twilight, and then in the daytime. At length some ministers arrived. Monks and nuns were now seen quitting their convents and embracing the Gospel. At other places, as for instance at Lemgo, the pastor, at first stoutly opposed, would set out for some reformed town in order to see how matters were going on there, and on his return would reform his own church. But in some districts violent resistance was offered. At Soest, a conflict took place between a victim and the executioner. The latter having made an ineffectual stroke and inflicted only a severe wound, the victim, a robust man of the lower class, snatched away the weapon, repulsed the executioner and his assistant, and was carried off in triumph by the crowd to his own house, where, however, he died on the following day, of the blow which he had received.
[Sidenote: THE SPIRITUALS.]
In other places a struggle between cruelty and humanity took place among the persecutors, and on some occasions humanity triumphed. At Paderborn, a town in which Charlemagne held several diets and where many Saxons were baptized, the community without asking leave of higher authorities had opened the churches to evangelical preaching. Hermann, elector of Cologne, who subsequently entertained very different views, being named administrator of the bishopric, arrived in the town attended by guards and by influential men of the country who were devoted to the papacy. Appealed to by these men, by the chapter, and by the council which implored him to punish the illegal proceedings of the townsfolk, he allowed at first things to take their course. The people were, however, called together in the garden of a convent at which the elector was staying. They were told that he was desirous of taking a gracious leave of them. The townsfolk arrived; but they suddenly found themselves encompassed by armed men, and the leaders of the evangelical party were seized and cast into prison. They were put to the torture; they were led out to the scaffold, around which the people were gathered, and the approaches to which were covered with gravel intended to absorb the blood of the victims, and there sentence of death was read to these honest and pious citizens. Nothing now remained but to behead them. The chief executioner came forward and, turning to Hermann and all the dignitaries around him, said: 'These men are innocent, I would sooner die than behead them.' At the same time a voice was heard from the midst of the crowd; it was that of an aged man who came forward with difficulty, leaning on his staff. 'I also am guilty like those you have condemned, and I ask to be put to death with them.' The wives and daughters of the prisoners had assembled in a neighboring house. The door now opened, and they approached, some smiting themselves on the breast, others with dishevelled[499] hair; they cast themselves at the feet of the elector and entreated pardon for these innocent men. Hermann, who was not cruel, could not refrain from tears, and he granted the pardon which was sought at his hands. Nevertheless, the evangelical doctrine was prohibited in the town. The people were even forbidden to engage domestic servants who came from places where the new doctrine was professed.[500]
We have elsewhere seen how some countries and towns more or less recently reformed, had felt the need of union after the decree of the diet of Augsburg, of 1530, and had formed at Smalcalde, March 29, 1531, an alliance for six years, by which they engaged to defend each other.[501] Under these circumstances, and considering that the Sultan Solyman was advancing towards Austria with an immense army, the Emperor had determined to treat with the Protestants, and the religious peace of Nürnberg was concluded, July 23, 1532. The leaguers of Smalcalde, nevertheless, were still subject to molestation, for various reasons, by the tribunals of the Empire. The landgrave of Hesse, by a bold measure, re-established the Protestant duke, Ulrich of Würtemberg, in his dominions, thus opening them to the Reformation and increasing the power of the League of Smalcalde.[502]
III. THE TRIUMPH OF THE ANABAPTISTS OF MUNSTER
(1533.)
Unfortunately, there was going on at this time a fanatical movement, which the Roman Catholics were fain to turn to account against the Reformation, but which in truth furnished no ground of reproach against it; for the attitude of the Reformation towards the fanatics was chiefly one of resistance and suppression. When after a long winter the springtide comes again, it is not only the good seed which grows up, but weeds too appear in abundance. It could not happen otherwise in this new springtide of the church, which is called the Reformation. The mightiest power of the Middle Ages--the Papacy--was assailed. In place of the opinions which it had professed and imposed on the world for centuries, the reformers presented evangelical doctrine. It was easy to understand that not all who rejected the views of the Roman pontiffs would accept those of the reformers, but that many would invent or adopt others.
There was a diversity of doctrines, and sometimes, even within the limits of a single party, all manner of opinions. This was the case with the so-called Spirituals, who have been erroneously named Anabaptists, for opposition to infant baptism, so far from being their distinctive doctrine, was hardly their badge. They held in general the power for good of the natural will (free-will). Haetzer denied the divinity of Christ, and led a bad life. Many of them said, 'Christ took nothing of human nature from his mother, for the Adamic nature is accursed.' There were some who looked upon the observance of Sunday as an antichristian practice. These fanatics fancied themselves alone to be the children of God, and like the Israelites of old believed that they were called to exterminate the wicked. One of this sect, Melchior Hoffmann, after being in turn in kings' courts and in ignominious imprisonment, went into Alsace, supposing that at Strasburg the new Jerusalem was to come down from heaven, and that from this town would go forth the messengers charged to gather together God's elect. Almost all of them expected that the end of the world was very near at hand, and some even fixed the day and the hour.
[Sidenote: BERNARD ROTTMANN.]
These fanatics, in consequence of the persecution to which they were subjected in South Germany, in Switzerland, and in Holland, turned their steps towards the regions bordering on the Rhine, where more freedom was to be enjoyed, and where the Reformation was not yet thoroughly organized. Munster, in Westphalia, was a strong town, fortified with a citadel, and the seat of a bishop, with a cathedral, and a numerous body of clergy. Near the town stood a church dedicated to St. Maurice; here a false reformer preached a false reformation. This preacher was one Bernard Rottmann, a fiery man, eloquent and daring, who had to some extent apprehended the reformed doctrine, but whose heart remained unaffected by it. As he used to deliver fine discourses, the townspeople flocked to hear him; and at length requested that he should be called into Munster. Some influential men among the Roman Catholics, acquainted with the man, and anxious to avoid any disturbance, offered him money to go away.[503] Rottmann accepted the money and took his departure, thus giving the measure of his faith and zeal. He then visited several towns and universities in Germany, but made no stay anywhere, and in the course of a few months returned to Munster. Some of the citizens and the populace, who were very fond of listening to his declamation, joyfully welcomed him; but the bishop and the clergy were opposed to his preaching in the churches. His partisans now set up a pulpit for him in the market-place, and his hearers increased in number daily. Two pastors from Hesse, taking Rottmann for a minister of good standing, joined him, and drew up a statement of the errors of Rome in thirty-one articles, and submitted it to the council. The priests were then assembled at the town-hall, and the council laid the document before them. 'This is indeed our doctrine,' they said, 'but we are not prepared to defend it.' They were consequently deprived. The bishop, who had quitted Munster, resolved to cut off the supply of food to the town--a measure not exactly within a pastor's function, whose call is to feed his flock. The townsmen, provoked, arrested most of the canons and the priests and imprisoned them; and it was arranged in 1533, that evangelical doctrine should be preached in the six churches of the town, and that the old abuses should be no longer allowed except in the cathedral.[504]
Among the most respected inhabitants of Munster was the syndic Wiggers, whose wife, continually followed by a host of admirers, was a person of doubtful character. She had a great admiration for Rottmann, and, clever woman as she was, knew how to captivate him. Her husband died shortly afterwards, and the rumor was spread that she had poisoned him.[505] This is, however, uncertain. Whatever the fact may be, Rottmann married her, and thus showed again, that although he was a preacher of the Gospel, he did not practise it. Honorable men now withdrew from his society. This circumstance, with others, drove him to take an extreme course.
In 1533 a very large number of enthusiasts from the Netherlands arrived at Munster. One of these, Stapreda, from Meurs, became Rottmann's colleague, and preached vigorously their particular doctrines.[506] Rottmann, abandoned by his old friends, threw himself into the arms of these new ones, and strongly advocated their views. Great alarm was excited in Hesse. Hermann Busch, of Marburg, came to Munster to oppose the fanatics, and in consequence of a dispute between him and Rottmann the adherents of the latter received orders to leave the town. They concealed themselves for a time and then reappeared. The pastor Fabritius, sent to Munster by the landgrave of Hesse, who was growing more and more alarmed, earnestly exhorted the senate and the people to be steadfast in sound doctrine. But one of the visionaries, pretending to be led by divine inspiration, went about the town towards the end of December, 1533, exclaiming: 'Repent ye and be baptized, or the wrath of God will destroy you.'[507] Ignorant men were filled with terror and hastened to obey.
[Sidenote: MATTHISSON AND BOCKHOLD.]
At the beginning of 1534, the strength of the party was augmented by the arrival of some famous recruits. On January 13 two men made their entrance into Munster, strangely apparelled, with an air of enthusiasm in their countenances and in their actions, and honored by the visionaries as their leaders. These were a prophet and an apostle; the former, John Matthisson, a baker from Haarlem, the latter, John Bockhold, a tailor from Leyden.[508] Bockhold had made his journeyman's tour, had run over Germany, and also, it was said, had visited Lisbon. On returning to his native land, he had taken a shop at Leyden, near the gate which leads to the Hague. The working men who rallied round the prophet had in general very little relish for work. This youthful tailor, for example, felt it very irksome to sit all day with his legs crossed, threading needles and sewing pieces of stuff and buttons. General tradition represents Bockhold as a tailor, but it is stated by some writers that he was a cloth-merchant. His father held some office in the magistracy at the Hague; but his mother, a native of Westphalia, belonged to the servant class. However this may be, he gave up his shop, and took, in conjunction with his wife, a public-house for the sale of beer and other drinks; and here he led a gay and even a dissolute life. The new tavern-keeper had not read much, but he had a certain amount of education and a good address. He was keen, crafty, ambitious, daring, eloquent, and full of animation.[509] There were at this time in most of the towns in the Netherlands, and particularly at Leyden, poetical societies; and John Bockhold was ambitious to shine as an orator. He made speeches which were remarkable for fluency and copiousness of diction. He even composed comedies and acted in them. He took part in the conversations, and caught the spirit of opposition to the church which prevailed in these assemblies. He made acquaintance with some of the enthusiasts; was fascinated by the notion of a new kingdom in which they were to be leading men; and thought that he should be able to find there better than elsewhere a great part to play himself. Matthisson, as we have stated, chose Bockhold for one of his apostles.
[Sidenote: THEIR PROCEEDINGS AT MUNSTER.]
At the time of the arrival of these two men, there was living at Munster a notable townsman named Bernard Knipperdolling. This man having been in Sweden had associated with some of the enthusiasts of that country. He was now eager to receive into his house two persons already so famous. The latter set to work without delay. Their wish was to make Munster the capital of the sect, and with a view to this they made use of all means calculated to gain over men's minds. By their figure, their unusual attire, their fervor, their eloquence, and their enthusiasm, they produced a powerful impression. These men were bold, but also shrewd, and sought to propitiate every body. Bockhold succeeded even in gaining access to the evangelical ministers. He spoke to them at first in the pure language of the Gospel; then he asked one or another, what he thought of this or that point on which the visionaries had peculiar views. If their answers were not such as he required, or if passages of Scripture were noted in support of their opinions, he would smile, and sometimes shrug his shoulders. It was not long before his friends and he openly proclaimed the new kingdom of which they were the fore-runners. But the evangelical ministers implored the people to remain faithful to pure doctrine and to maintain it against the fanatics.[510]
Women were the first to believe in that earthly and heavenly kingdom which was thus proclaimed, and which was flattering at the same time to their senses and their understanding. First some nuns, then some women of the middle class, and afterwards men embraced the doctrines published by Bockhold. Rottmann, who by his wrong-doing had forfeited the good opinion of the evangelicals, now threw himself into the arms of the new party, which received him most favorably; and he began to preach with his utmost eloquence the fantastic kingdom of the visionaries. The crowd that flocked to listen to his sermons was immense, and to hear, people said, was to be converted. The report became current that he possessed a secret charm, of such sovereign power that all persons on whom he chose to practise it were immediately enchanted and bound to the sect. It was the charm of novelty, of pride, and of error. Women, who joined the party, sharply rebuked the burgomaster because he was friendly to Fabritius, the pious evangelical minister from Hesse, who declined to become a convert to the new kingdom. Working men wanted to be reputed masters. A blacksmith's boy began to preach the new Gospel; and when the council ordered him to be imprisoned, all his comrades assembled and compelled the magistrate to release him.
A collision between the two parties seemed inevitable. On February 8 (1534), the enthusiasts, believing themselves strong enough, took up arms and suddenly seized the great square; the evangelicals remaining masters of the walls and the gates of the city. The latter were the stronger party, and many talked of making an attack with artillery upon the fanatical multitude and of expelling the intruders from the town. While the most prudent men were engaged in deliberation, the illuminés had the strangest visions. 'I see,' said one, 'a man with a golden crown; in one hand he holds a sword, in the other a rod.' Many declared that 'the town was filled with ruddy-brown flames, and that the horseman of the Apocalypse, mounted on a white horse, was advancing, conquering and to conquer.' The good pastor Fabritius, whom they had scandalously insulted, pleaded on behalf of them. He entreated that the mad ones should be leniently dealt with. In other quarters it was expected that there would be a vigorous resistance and great slaughter. Men of conciliatory disposition would fain avoid shedding the blood of their fellow-citizens; and some were afraid that the bishop, who was near with his troops, would take advantage of the conflict to get possession of the town.[511] Two proposals were made to the visionaries; liberty secured to both sides in matters of religion, but submission to the magistrates in civil matters. This was a victory for the enthusiasts; they were triumphant, and 'their countenances,' says one of themselves, 'became of a magnificent color.'[512]
[Sidenote: A MOURNFUL SPECTACLE.]
This was, indeed, the beginning of their kingdom. They now summoned their adepts to Munster from all quarters, and these came in crowds, especially from Holland. The period for the election of the Council having arrived (February 20, 1534), not one of the former magistrates was re-elected. Some working men, who pretended to be illuminated by the Spirit, superseded them and distributed all offices among their own friends. Knipperdolling was named burgomaster. A few days later (February 27) there was held at the town-hall a great meeting of the Christians, as they called themselves. The prophet Matthisson remained for some time motionless, and seemed to be asleep. Suddenly he rose and exclaimed: 'Drive away the children of Esau (the Evangelicals); the inheritance belongs to the children of Jacob.' The streets were at the time almost impassable in consequence of a storm of wind with rain and snow; but the enthusiasts dashed into the midst of it, impetuously rushing about, and crying out with all their might, 'Wicked ones, begone!' They forcibly entered people's houses, and expelled from them all who would not join their party. All the magistrates, the nobles, and the canons who were still in the town, were compelled to leave it; the poor likewise. The unfortunate city presented at this time the most mournful spectacle. Mothers, in terror, would snatch up their children half-naked in their arms and go away pale and trembling from their abodes, carrying with them nothing but some beverage to refresh the poor little ones on the way. Young lads with a scared look, holding in their hands a bit of bread which their school-masters had given them to comfort them or to allay their hunger, went side by side with their parents, with bare feet, through the snow; and old men, leaning on their staffs, quitted the town at a slow pace. But on reaching the gates, the wanderers were searched; from the mothers the fanatics took away the beverage intended for their young children, from the lads the bread which they were carrying to their mouths, and from the old men the last small coins which they had taken up at the moment of their departure,[513] and then they drove them all out of the town. They went forth at hap-hazard, not knowing whither they were to go, having nothing to eat or to drink, and deprived of the pitiful savings of a long and laborious life.[514] The prophet Matthisson had at first intended that all those who did not accept the new kingdom should be put to death. But they did them the favor of only banishing them, pillaged, however, and almost naked, taking from them their coats if they happened to be good,[515] and then drove them away, crying out, 'Wicked! Pagans!'
[Sidenote: TERROR.]
The new community was now organized; and Matthisson ere long exercised over it supreme authority. Prophets who gave themselves out for inspired did not wait for the millennial kingdom, or for the resurrection of the dead, or for the advent of the Saviour. They were quite equal, they thought, to their task. They despised knowledge. They prohibited all intercourse with the pagans, that is to say, the evangelicals. Those who received the new baptism indispensable for admission into their imaginary kingdom, and they alone, were saints. Marriages previously solemnized were annulled; laws were abolished on the ground that they were opposed to liberty. All distinctions of rank were suppressed; community of goods was established; and all the property of those who were banished was thrown into a common fund. At the same time, seeing that their first duty was to break with a corrupt world, that irreconcilable enemy of the saints, orders were given to destroy all those evil things of which the men of the world made use. Images, organs, painted windows, clocks, seats adorned with sculptures, musical instruments, and other things of a similar kind, were removed into the market-place, and there solemnly broken to pieces. The masterpieces of the painters of the Westphalian school were not spared. Books and manuscripts, even the rarest, were some of them burnt and others thrown upon dunghills.[516] This was all done, they declared, by divine inspiration. People were at the same time ordered to deliver up all gold, silver, jewels, ornaments, and other precious things. Property was superseded by communism; and any one who failed to bring these superfluities to the public office was put to death. The leading fanatics divided among themselves the fine houses of the canons, the patricians, and the senators, and settled in them in plenty and comfort. A large number of adventurers in quest of fortune, and of fanatics who coveted the good things of the world more than they acknowledged, arrived at Munster from Holland and the neighboring countries. They looked upon it as a fine opportunity, and were eager to have a share of the spoil, and ready enough to lay hands on a large portion of it. To each handicraft some special duty was assigned. The tailors for example, were charged to see that no new form of dress was introduced into the community. These people made it a matter of as much moment to avoid the fashion as other people did to follow it.
Meanwhile, the main business was the defence of the town. Young lads even were in training for this task, and not without good reason; for in the month of May, 1531, the bishop of Munster invested the episcopal city. He, however, made no progress; for the town, admirably fortified, was situated on a plain, and there was no rising ground in its neighborhood on which the besiegers could establish themselves. Some of the soldiers who were taken prisoners in the sorties were beheaded by order of the prophets; and their heads were set up on the walls, to show their comrades what fate awaited them.[517]
The prophet Matthisson, who had at least the virtue of courage, was killed in an attack made by the besieged. Bockhold took his place. He was not so brave, but was more ambitious than his predecessor, and applied himself to the organizing of this strange community. The magistrates were nominated by Rottmann the preacher and Bockhold the prophet. Their decrees were executed by Knipperdolling. This man had authority to put to death, without form of trial, any one who was detected in violating the new laws. For this purpose he was always accompanied by four satellites, each carrying a drawn sword; and thus attended he paraded the streets, at a slow pace, and with a penetrating glance which spread terror all around.
IV. THE ANABAPTISTS OF MUNSTER. EXCESSES
(1535.)
It was not long before the new king gave the rein to his passions. Munster became the scene of the grossest debaucheries and the most revolting cruelties. Fanaticism is usually accompanied by immorality, and with faith morality is thrown overboard. Bockhold, not contented with Matthisson's office, wanted also to have his wife, the beautiful Divara. He was already married, but that was of no consequence. He began to preach polygamy, adducing the examples of the Old Testament, but passing by what the New says, that God in the beginning ordained the union of one man with one woman, an institution confirmed and sanctioned by the Saviour. This scandalous proceeding was at first opposed by several members of the community, and there was even an evangelical reaction. At the head of the gainsayers was a blacksmith. Some of the prophets were arrested, and there was talk of recalling the exiles. The evangelical party seemed to be on the point of revival; but the enthusiasts were the stronger party, and their opponents were shot or beheaded.
[Sidenote: THE KING OF THE UNIVERSE.]
The prophets became more numerous. A working goldsmith, named Tausendschur, pretended to great revelations. Urged on, no doubt, by Bockhold, he called together the whole body of the saints, and said,--'The will and the commandment of the Father who is in heaven is that John of Leyden should have the empire of the whole world, that he should go forth from the town with a powerful army, that he should put to death indiscriminately all princes and kings, and that destroying all the wicked he should take possession of the throne of David his father.'[518] Bockhold, who was present, at first kept silent, and appeared to know nothing of this revelation. But when Tausendschur had finished, the Leyden tailor fell on his knees, and said that ten days before the same things had been revealed to him, but that he had refrained from announcing them, lest he should seem desirous of the sovereignty. At length, he said, he submitted to the will of God, applying to himself this saying of Ezekiel,--'David my servant shall be their king, and he shall make an everlasting covenant with them.' He therefore declared himself ready to undertake the conquest of the world. This scheme was, doubtless, on his part, a mere piece of trickery, but it abundantly served his ambition. The madmen and fools who believed in it, voluntarily submitted to the man who was to be king of the universe; and the hope of occupying the chief places in this universal kingdom filled them with zeal for the support of Bockhold. Even if there were any doubters, they knew that the impostor would not hesitate to cut off their heads, if that should be necessary for the establishment of his empire. Bockhold, whose mother was a serf of Westphalia, assumed in the capital of this province the pomp and attire of a king. He surrounded himself with a court composed of a large number of officers and magistrates. The churches were pillaged; and the king and his ministers decked themselves with the silk vestments enriched with gold and silver which they took out of the churches, from the officiating ministers and from the most wealthy citizens.[519] He had a seal made, representing the world with two swords which pierced it through and through. This he hung about his neck on a gold chain adorned with precious stones, as a symbol of his power. He bore a golden sword with a silver hilt; and on his head he had a triple crown made of the finest gold. To all this ostentation the ex-journeyman, now a king, added debauchery. Besides Divara, who was his queen, he took fifteen wives, all under twenty years of age, and he declared that he would have three hundred.[520] His queen and these young girls he attired magnificently. Each of his apostles and other adherents also had several wives. He considered it necessary to keep his followers in a state of drunkenness, to prevent them from foreseeing the catastrophe which was impending over them. He assumed the title of king of the new temple, and rode about the town invested with the insignia of his office, and escorted by his guards. All who met him were obliged to fall on their knees. Three times a week he made his appearance in the public square, and sat upon a lofty throne, a sceptre in his hand and a crown upon his head, and surrounded by a body of his satellites. In this position he delivered his judgments. Knipperdolling, one step below him, with a drawn sword in his hand, held himself in readiness to execute them. Whosoever wished to bring any matter before him was compelled to fall on his knees twice in approaching the throne, and then to prostrate himself with his face to the ground.
[Sidenote: A SUPPER.]
In October there was a great religious festival, which Bockhold called the Lord's Supper. A table of 4,200 covers was prepared for men and women. The king, the queen, and their principal officers, served on the occasion. Bockhold perceiving a stranger in the crowd ordered him to be arrested and brought before him. 'Wherefore,' said he, 'hast thou not on a wedding garment?' He pretended to believe that the man was a Judas, and ordered him to be expelled; then going out himself, he beheaded him with his own hands. He then re-entered, exulting and smiling at this exploit.[521]
When the repast was over, he asked if they were all ready to do the will of God. 'All,' they replied. 'Well, then,' said the king, 'this will is that some of you should go forth to make known the wonderful things which God has done for us.' He forthwith nominated six of them to go to Osnabruck, and the same number to go to various other towns in the neighborhood. He gave to each of them a piece of gold of the value of nine florins and a viaticum. On the same evening these apostles quitted Munster; and on their arrival at the towns which had been assigned to them, they made their entrance, filling the air with horrible outcries. 'Be converted,' they said, as they went along the streets; 'repent! The time which God in his mercy leaves you is short. The axe is laid at the root of the tree. If you do not receive peace, your town will soon be destroyed.' Next, presenting themselves to the assembled senate, they spread their cloaks upon the ground, threw down their pieces of gold,[522] and said,--'We proclaim peace to you; if you receive it bring hither what you possess and place it with this gold. Our king will ere long have conquered the whole world and subdued it to righteousness.' Those envoys who had been despatched to the towns belonging to the bishop of Munster were at first favorably received; but presently they were all arrested, and several were put to the torture. Not one of them, however, would acknowledge himself in error. 'We wait for new troops from Friesland and from Holland, and then,' repeated they, 'the king will go forth and will subdue the whole earth.' They suffered the extreme penalty of the law, as men guilty of sedition.
The king encountered difficulties not only in the neighboring towns, but likewise in his own capital, and even in his harem. There was at Munster a woman of great courage and determination, who boasted that no man should ever marry her. John of Leyden commanded that she should be carried off and placed in the number of his wives; but the woman, with her independence of character, finding the morals and the manners of this harem intolerable, made her escape. This was in the king's eyes a very great crime. He therefore had her arrested, conducted her himself to the great square, cut off her head with his own hand, and then, filled with wrath and vengeance, trampled her body in the dust. Bockhold had ordered that all his other wives should be present at this hateful scene, and had directed them to sing a hymn of praise after the execution. These unhappy creatures did, accordingly, strike up their song in the presence of the mutilated and desecrated body of their companion.[523]
V. THE ANABAPTISTS OF MUNSTER. CHASTISEMENT
(1535-1536.)
[Sidenote: CHASTISEMENT.]
The landgrave Philip of Hesse having, meanwhile, entered Westphalia with the troops which had just made the conquest of Würtemberg, Munster was soon so completely invested that nothing, and especially no food supplies, could any longer enter the town. The dearth became more and more severe, and the miserable people were driven to have recourse for sustenance to the most unaccustomed food. They ate the flesh of horses, dogs and cats, dormice, grass, and leather; they tore up books and devoured the parchment. Half the population of the town, it was said, died of starvation. These fanatics had trusted in the word of their king and prophet, and had awaited with confidence the succor which he promised them; but, as this succor did not arrive, murmurs began to be heard from some of them, and others appeared to go mad. Bockhold had told them that, if it were necessary for saving his people, 'the stones would be turned into bread.' Consequently, some of these votaries might be seen stopping in the streets, biting the stones and attempting to tear them to pieces, in expectation of their being converted into nourishment.[524] At length despair, madness, and inhumanity proceeded to the bitterest extremities. The wife of the senator Menken, one of the working men raised to this dignity by Bockhold, killed her three children, salted their bodies, and placed the parts thus cured in jars, in this way making abominable provision for her own subsistence, and on this she fed day by day.[525] The wretched inhabitants of this ill-fated town wandered with tottering steps about the streets, the skin wrinkled over their fleshless bones, their necks long and lank, hardly able to sustain the head, their eyes haggard and opening and shutting with sudden jerk, their cheeks hollow and emaciated, with lips which death seemed to be about to close, corpses in appearance rather than living beings. In the midst of this appalling spectacle which recalls the greatest distresses recorded in history, even the destruction of Jerusalem, there was, it is said, in the king's palace abundance, feasting, and debauchery.[526]
The enthusiasts, during this time, were causing much trouble in Holland; but they did not succeed in bringing help to their brethren. At the beginning of 1535 a certain number of them proposed to burn Leyden; fifteen were arrested and beheaded. In February others ran naked about the streets of Amsterdam by night, crying out, 'Woe! woe! woe!' They also were executed. Near Franeker, in Friesland, three hundred of them assembled and took possession of a convent; but they were all put to death. Bockhold, impatient to get the succor of which he was in sore need, delegated Jan van Geelen, a clever, crafty man, to stir up a revolt in Holland, and to return to his aid with an army which should raise the siege of Munster, and help him to conquer the world. Jan van Geelen, by a feigned renunciation of his errors, obtained a pardon from Queen Mary. Having entered Holland, he was able secretly to attract a large number of followers; and in a short time he conceived the project of surprising Amsterdam by night. He did, in fact, get possession of the town-hall; but the townsmen, aroused by the tocsin, drove away the fanatics with cannon-shot, not without suffering great losses themselves, particularly in the death of a burgomaster. The rebels were cruelly treated. Many of them were stretched upon butchers' blocks, had their hearts torn out, and were then quartered. On all these occasions a certain number of women were, as usual, drowned.[527]
[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF MUNSTER.]
[Sidenote: EXECUTIONS.]
These successive defeats made an impression on Bockhold and his partisans. They lost all hope of aid from Holland. The landgrave, Philip of Hesse, one of the most powerful chiefs of Protestantism, had brought up his forces to put an end to the scandals of Munster. The bishop of this city, impelled by the desire to reconquer it, had assembled for the purpose some Roman Catholic soldiers. One of Bockhold's men escaped from the town and pointed out the way to capture it.[528] In the night of June 24, 1535, two hundred lansquenets cleared the foss and scaled the wall at a point where it was very low. They were no sooner within the town, than they uttered cries and beat the drum. The men of the king of Zion leaped out of their beds and ran to arms. The conflict began and was for a moment doubtful; but one of the city gates having been opened from within, the army of the besiegers entered and the fight became terrible. A hundred and fifty horse or foot soldiers lost their lives. On the side of the besieged many also fell, and amongst others Rottmann who, resolved not to suffer the disgrace of captivity, threw himself with intrepidity into the midst of the fire and perished. The king and two of his principal counsellors, Knipperdolling and the pastor Crechting, made their escape and hid themselves in a strong tower, where they hoped to escape the notice of the conquerors.[529] But the soldiers penetrated into their place of concealment, dragged them out and made them prisoners. Bockhold at first braved it out, and assuming the air of a king spoke arrogantly to the bishop. Two theologians of Hesse endeavored to bring him to repentance; but he obstinately held to his opinion, admitting no superior to himself on earth. Reflection, however, wrought a change. Bockhold was not a fanatic, but an impostor; and he felt that the only way to save his life was to abjure his errors. He asked for a second conference with the two Hessians and feigned conversion. 'I confess,' he said to them, 'that the resistance I have offered to authority was unlawful; that the institution of polygamy was rash, and that the baptism of children is obligatory. If pardon should be granted me, I pledge myself to obtain from all my adherents obedience and submission.' He likewise acknowledged that he had deserved to die ten times over. This was the behavior of a knave, willing to abandon even his imposture, if, by so doing, he might save his life. Knipperdolling and Crechting, on the contrary, persisted in their views, and asserted that they had followed the guidance of God. Cruelty of various kinds was inflicted on these wretched men. They were led about publicly, during the month of their detention, like strange animals, as a spectacle to the several princes and their courts, to whom they and their pretended king were made a subject of ridicule.[530] Bockhold did not derive from his confessions the advantage which he expected. The three leaders were all sentenced to the same punishment, the penalty of high treason to a supreme head. This took place in February, 1536. In the barbarous period of the Middle Ages imagination had been racked for the invention of the most cruel punishments. These three wretches were conducted to the great square of Munster, where Bockhold, as king, had borne the sceptre and the triple crown, and his executive minister Knipperdolling the sword. They were then laid out naked; and their bodies were plucked to pieces with hot pincers, until at length, amidst hideous tortures, pincers, fire, sword and excruciating sufferings had put an end to their life.[531] This process lasted an hour. Cochlæus himself exclaims,--'Cruel, horrible punishment! a terrible example to all rebels!' Knipperdolling and Crechting bore with courage the frightful infliction, and Bockhold, apparently recovering good sense, was determined not to die the death of a coward. Not a groan escaped him. After he had breathed his last they pierced his heart with a dagger.
It was Philip of Hesse and his soldiers of the reformed party who chiefly contributed to put an end to the disorders and cruelties of which Munster had been the scene. The only result of this episode for Protestantism was to demonstrate that it had no connection with the fanaticism of these would-be inspired ones. Protestant opinion was on this occasion distinguished by various characteristic features. Its intention was that punishment should be inflicted not for the religious doctrine of the enthusiasts, but only for their rebellion and other ordinary crimes. There have been, indeed, and there are especially at the present time a large number of pious and zealous Christians who advocate adult baptism; and we are bound to respect them although we do not share their views. Moreover the baptism practised by the enthusiasts of Munster, was not that of the sect of Baptists; it was a proceeding which denoted adhesion to the fanatical system the triumph of which they pretended to insure, a ceremony such as is adopted in many secret societies. The essential characteristics of their system were their alleged visions, their unquestionable licentiousness, the confusion which they brought upon the institutions of social life, their tyranny and their cruelty.
Various opinions were entertained as to the punishment which ought to be inflicted on them. Luther by a letter expressed clearly and briefly what he thought on the subject. He was not greatly troubled. 'It does not disturb me much,' he said; 'Satan is in a rage, but the Scripture stands fast.'[532] The landgrave Philip was always an advocate of the most lenient measures; he had no desire that the punishment of death should be inflicted upon them, as had been done in other countries. He consented only to their being imprisoned; and he insisted that they should be instructed. The evangelical towns of Upper Germany acted upon the same principle and refused to stain their hands with the blood of these unhappy men. But it was decreed by a majority of the Germanic Diet, that all enthusiasts who persisted in their false doctrines should be put to death. Thus were confounded, as it has been said, two things as remote from each other as heaven and earth, evangelical doctrine and the confusion introduced into churches and states by these fanatics. The unfortunate men were put to death, whether they were visionaries or not; and not only were culpable disorders put down with a strong hand, but evangelical doctrine was also banished from Munster.[533]
[Sidenote: CAUSES OF THE DISORDERS.]
Three causes especially contributed to bring about these hideous disorders of the fanatics. First, the bloody persecutions carried on by Charles V. in the Netherlands against all those who desired to worship God according to their conscience; next, the doctrines of the enthusiasts, mingled sometimes with immorality, which Tanchelme of Antwerp, Simon of Tournay, Amalric of Bena, the Turlupines, the Pseudo-Cathari, and the Brethren of the Free Spirit, had for centuries professed in different countries, and especially in the Netherlands and on the banks of the Rhine, and which had lately been revived there by emissaries from Germany; and finally, the need for a change in the social order felt at this period by the least industrious and most fanciful men of the lower orders, and especially of the class of artisans.
After the terrible catastrophe which put an end to the kingdom of Zion, there still remained, undoubtedly, some enthusiasts and libertines, particularly David Joris. But many of them settled down and returned to more wholesome doctrines. One of these, Ubbo of Leuwarden, had been consecrated bishop of the new sect and had in turn consecrated others, Menno Simonis in particular. Ubbo made public confession of his error; 'I have been miserably mistaken,' he said, 'and I shall lament it as long as I live.'[534]
We have narrated the horrible episode of Munster, and we have exhibited it like one of those placards which we have sometimes met with in the Alps, nailed to a post near an abyss, on which were to be read such words as these,--'Traveller, beware! any one approaching falls and rolls over, and hurled from rock to rock, is dashed to pieces and killed, the sad victim of his rashness.'
TRIUMPH IN DEATH.
(The night of the 18th February, 1546, at Eisleben.)
Luther had throughout his life refused the aid of the secular arm, as his desire was that the truth should triumph only by the power of God. However, in 1546, in spite of his efforts, war was on the point of breaking out, and it was the will of God that his servant should be spared this painful spectacle.
The Counts of Mansfeld, within whose territories he was born, having become involved in a quarrel with their subjects and with several Lords of the neighborhood, had recourse to the mediation of the reformer. The old man--he was now sixty-three--was subject to frequent attacks of giddiness, but he never spared himself. He therefore set out, in answer to the call, and reached the territory of the Counts on the 28th of January, accompanied by his friend the theologian Jonas, who had been with him at the Diet of Worms, and by his two sons, Martin and Paul, the former now fifteen, and the latter thirteen, years of age. He was respectfully received by the Counts of Mansfeld, attended by a hundred and twelve horsemen. He entered that town of Eisleben in which he was born, and in which he was about to die. That same evening he was very unwell and was near fainting.
Nevertheless, he took courage and, applying himself zealously to the task, preached four times, attended twenty conferences, received the sacrament twice, and ordained two ministers. Every evening Jonas and Michael Coelius, pastor of Mansfeld, came to wish him good-night. 'Doctor Jonas, and you Master Michael,' he said to them, 'entreat of the Lord to save his church, for the Council of Trent is in great wrath.'
Luther dined regularly with the Counts of Mansfeld. It was evident from his conversation that the Holy Scriptures grew daily in importance in his eyes. 'Cicero asserts in his letters,' he said to the Counts two days before his death, 'that no one can comprehend the science of government who has not occupied for twenty years an important place in the republic. And I for my part tell you that no one has understood the Holy Scriptures who has not governed the churches for a hundred years, with the prophets, the Apostles and Jesus Christ.' This occurred on the 16th of February. After saying these words he wrote them down in Latin, laid them upon the table and then retired to his room. He had no sooner reached it than he felt that his last hour was near. 'When I have set my good lords at one,' he said to those about him, 'I will return home; I will lie down in my coffin and give my body to the worms.'
The next day, February 17, his weakness increased. The Counts of Mansfeld and the prior of Anhalt, filled with anxiety, came to see him. 'Pray do not come,' they said, 'to the conference.' He rose and walked up and down the room and exclaimed,--'Here, at Eisleben, I was baptized. Will it be my lot also to die here?' A little while after he took the sacrament. Many of his friends attended him, and sorrowfully felt that soon they would see him no more. One of them said to him,--'Shall we know each other in the eternal assembly of the blessed? We shall be all so changed!' 'Adam,' replied Luther, 'had never seen Eve, and yet when he awoke he did not say "Who art thou?" but, "Thou art flesh of my flesh." By what means did he know that she was taken from his flesh and not from a stone? He knew this because he was filled with the Holy Spirit. So likewise in the heavenly Paradise we shall be filled with the Holy Spirit, and we shall recognize father, mother, and friends better than Adam recognized Eve.'
[Sidenote: LUTHER'S PRAYER.]
Having thus spoken, Luther retired into his chamber and, according to his daily custom, even in the winter time, opened his window, looked up to heaven and began to pray. 'Heavenly Father,' he said, 'since in thy great mercy thou hast revealed to me the downfall of the pope, since the day of thy glory is not far off, and since the light of thy Gospel, which is now rising over the earth is to be diffused through the whole world, keep to the end through thy goodness the church of my dear native country; save it from falling, preserve it in the true profession of thy word, and let all men know that it is indeed for thy work that thou hast sent me.' He then left the window, returned to his friends, and about ten o'clock at night retired to bed. Just as he reached the threshold of his bedroom he stood still and said in Latin, 'In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum, redemisti me, Deus veritatis!'
The 18th of February, the day of his departure, was now at hand. About one o'clock in the morning, sensible that the chill of death was creeping over him, Luther called Jonas and his faithful servant Ambrose. 'Make a fire,' he said to Ambrose. Then he cried out,--'O Lord my God, I am in great pain! What a weight upon my chest! I shall never leave Eisleben.' Jonas said to him, 'Our heavenly Father will come to help you for the love of Christ which you have faithfully preached to men.' Luther then got up, took some turns up and down his room, and looking up to heaven exclaimed again,--'Into thine hand I commit my spirit; thou hast redeemed me, O God of truth!'
Jonas in alarm sent for the doctors, Wild and Ludwig, the Count and Countess of Mansfeld, Drachstadt, the town-clerk, and Luther's children. In great alarm they all hastened to the spot. 'I am dying,' said the sick man. 'No,' said Jonas, 'you are now in a perspiration and will soon be better.' 'It is the sweat of death,' said Luther, 'I am nearly at my last breath.' He was thoughtful for a moment and then said with faltering voice,--'O my heavenly Father, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the God of all consolation, I thank thee that thou hast revealed to me thy well-beloved Son, Jesus Christ, in whom I have believed, whom I have preached, whom I have confessed, whom the pope and all the ungodly insult, blaspheme, and persecute, but whom I love and adore as my Saviour. O Jesus Christ, my Saviour, I commit my soul to thee! O my heavenly Father, I must quit this body, but I believe with perfect assurance that I shall dwell eternally with thee, and that none shall pluck me out of thy hands.'
He now remained silent for a little while; his prayer seemed to have exhausted him. But presently his countenance again grew bright, a holy joy shone in his features, and he said with fulness of faith,--'God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' A moment afterwards he uttered, as if sure of victory, this word of David,[535]--'He that is our God is the God of salvation; and unto God the Lord belong the issues from death.' Dr. Wild went to him, and tried to induce him to take medicine, but Luther refused. 'I am departing,' he said, 'I am about to yield up my spirit.' Then returning to the saying which was for him a sort of watchword for his departure, he said three times successively without interruption,--'Father! into thine hand I commit my spirit. Thou hast redeemed me, O God of truth! Thou hast redeemed me, O God of truth!'
[Sidenote: HIS LAST HOURS.]
He then closed his eyes. They touched him, moved him, called to him, but he made no answer. In vain they applied the cloths which the town-clerk and his wife heated, in vain the Countess of Mansfeld and the physicians endeavored to revive him with tonics. He remained motionless. All who stood round him, perceiving that God was going to take away from the church militant this mighty warrior, were deeply affected. The two physicians noted from minute to minute the approach of death. The two boys, Martin and Paul, kneeling and in tears, cried to God to spare to them their father. Ambrose lamented the master, and Coelius the friend, whom they had so much loved. The Count of Mansfeld thought of the troubles which Luther's death might bring on the Empire. The distressed Countess sobbed and covered her eyes with her hands that she might not behold the mournful scene. Jonas, a little apart from the rest, felt heartbroken at the thought of the terrible blow impending over the Reformation. He wished to receive from the dying Luther a last testimony. He therefore rose, and went up to his friend, and bending over him, said,--'Reverend father, in your dying hour do you rest on Jesus Christ, and stedfastly rely upon the doctrine which you have preached?' 'YES,' said Luther, so that all who were present could hear him. This was his last word. The pallor of death overspread his countenance; his forehead, his hands, and his feet turned cold. They addressed him by his baptismal name, 'Doctor Martin,' but in vain, he made no response. He drew a deep breath and fell asleep in the Lord. It was between two and three o'clock in the morning. 'Truly,' said Jonas, to whom we are indebted for these details, 'thou lettest, Lord, thy servant depart in peace, and thou accomplishest for him the promise which thou madest us, and which he himself wrote the other day in a Bible presented to one of his friends: Verily, verily, I say unto you, if a man keep my saying, he shall never see death.'[536]
Thus passed Luther into the presence of his Master, in full reliance on redemption, in calm faith in the triumph of truth. Luther was no longer here below, but Jesus Christ is with his people evermore to the end of the world, and the work which Luther had begun lives, is still advancing, and will extend to all the ends of the earth.