CHAPTER II.

HENRY VIII., SUPREME HEAD OF THE ENGLISH CHURCH--A MARTYR.

(1538.)

[Sidenote: RETURN OF GARDINER.]

The Romish party in England did not confine itself to preventing

the union of Henry with the Protestants of Germany; but contended

at all points against evangelical reformation, and strove to gain

over the king by a display of enthusiastic devotion to his person

and his ecclesiastical supremacy. This was especially the policy of

Gardiner. Endowed with great acuteness of intellect, he had studied

the king's character, and he put forth all his powers to secure his

adoption of his own views. Henry did not esteem his character, but

highly appreciated his talents, and on this account employed him.

Now Gardiner was the mainstay of the Scholastic doctrines and the

most inflexible opponent of the Reformation. He was for three years

ambassador in France, and during that mission he had displayed great

pomp and spent a sum equivalent, in our present reckoning, to about

sixty thousand pounds. He had visited the court of the emperor, and

had had interviews with the Roman legate. One day, at Ratisbon, an

Italian named Ludovico, a servant of the legate, while talking with one

of the attendants of Sir Henry Knevet, who was a member of the English

embassy, had confided to him the statement that Gardiner had secretly

been reconciled with the pope, and had entered into correspondence with

him. Knevet, exceedingly anxious to know what to think of it, had had

a conference with Ludovico, and had come away convinced of the reality

of the fact. No sooner did Gardiner get wind of these things, then he

betook himself to Granvella, chancellor of the empire, and sharply

complained to him of the calumnies of Ludovico. The chancellor ordered

the Italian to be put in prison; but in spite of this measure many

continued to believe that he had spoken truth. We are inclined to think

that Ludovico said more than he knew. The story, however, indicates

from which quarter the wind was blowing in the sphere in which Gardiner

moved. He had set out for Paris on October 1, 1535; and on September

28, 1538, there was to be seen entering London a brilliant and numerous

band, mules and chariots hung with draperies on which were embroidered

the arms of the master, lackeys, gentlemen dressed in velvet, with many

ushers and soldiers. This was Gardiner and his suite.[253]

The three years' absence of this formidable adversary of the Gospel had

been marked by a slackening of the persecution, and by a more active

propagation of the Holy Scriptures. His return was to be distinguished

by a vigorous renewal of the struggle against the Gospel. This was the

main business of Gardiner. To this he consecrated all the resources

of the most acute understanding and the most persistent character. He

began immediately to lay snares round the king, whom in this respect

it was not very hard to entrap. Two difficulties, however, arose. At

first Henry VIII., by the influence of the deceased queen, had been

somewhat softened towards the Reformation. Then the rumors of the

reconciliation of Gardiner with the pope might have alienated the king

from him. The crafty man proceeded cleverly and killed two birds with

one stone. 'The pope,' he said to the king, 'is doing all he can to

ruin you.' Henry, provoked at the mission of Pole, had no doubt of

that. 'You ought then, Sire,' continued the bishop, 'to do all that is

possible to conciliate the Continental powers, and to place yourself

in security from the treacherous designs of Rome.[254] Now the surest

means of conciliating Francis I., Charles V., and other potentates,

is to proceed rigorously against heretics, especially against the

sacramentarians.' Henry agreed to the means proposed with the more

readiness because he had always been a fanatic for the corporal

presence, and because the Lutherans, in his view, could not take

offence at seeing him burn some of the sacramentarians.

A beginning was made with the Anabaptists. The mad and atrocious things

perpetrated at Munster were still everywhere talked of, and these

wretched people were persecuted in all European countries. Some of them

had taken refuge in England. In October, 1538, the king appointed a

commission to examine certain people 'lately come into the kingdom, who

are keeping themselves in concealment in various nooks and corners.'

The commission was authorized to proceed, even supposing this should be

in contravention of any statutes of the realm.[255]

Four Anabaptists bore the fagots at Paul's church, and two others,

a man and a woman, originally from the Netherlands, were burnt in

Smithfield. Cranmer and Bonner sat on this commission, side by side

with Stokesley and Sampson. This fact shows what astonishing error

prevailed at the time in the minds of men. Gardiner wanted to go

further; and while associating, when persecution was in hand, with such

men as Cranmer, he had secret conferences with Stokesley, bishop of

London, Tonstall of Durham, Sampson of Chichester, and others, who were

devoted to the doctrines of the Middle Ages. They talked over the means

of resisting the reforms of Cranmer and Cromwell, and of restoring

Catholicism.

[Sidenote: BISHOP SAMPSON.]

Bishop Sampson, one of Gardiner's allies, was a staunch friend of

ancient superstitions, and attached especial importance to the

requirement that God should not be addressed in a language understood

by the common people. 'In all places,' he said, 'both with the Latins

and the Greeks, the ministers of the church sung or said their offices

or prayers in the Latin or Greek grammatical tongue, and not in the

vulgar. That the people prayed apart in such tongues as they

would... and he wished that all the ministers were so well learned that

they understood their offices, service or prayers which they said in the

Latin tongue.'[256] In his view, it was not lawful to speak to God

except _grammatically_.

Sampson, a weak and narrow-minded man, was swayed by prejudices and

ruled by stronger men; and he had introduced in his diocese customs

contrary to the orders of the king. Weak minds are often in the van

when important movements are beginning; the strong ones are in the

rear and urge them on. This was the case with Sampson and Gardiner.

Cromwell, who had a keen and penetrating intellect, and whose glance

easily searched the depths of men's hearts and pierced to the core

of facts, perceived that some project was hatching against the

Reformation; and as he did not dare to attack the real leaders, he

had Sampson arrested and committed to the Tower. The bishop was not

strong-minded and trembled for a slight cause; it may, therefore, be

imagined how it was with him when he found himself in the state prison.

He fell into great trouble and extraordinary dejection of mind.[257]

His imagination was filled with fatal presentiments, and his soul was

assailed by great terrors. To have displeased the king and Cromwell,

what a crime! One might have thought that he would die of it, says a

historian. He saw himself already on the scaffold of Bishop Fisher and

Sir Thomas More. At this time the powerful minister summoned him to

his presence. Sampson admitted the formation of an alliance between

Gardiner, Stokesley, Tonstall and himself to maintain the old religion,

its traditions and rites, and to resist any innovation. He avowed the

fact that his colleagues and himself stood pledged to put forth all

their efforts for the restoration of degenerated Catholicism. In their

opinion, nothing which the Greeks had preserved ought to be rejected

in England. One day when Bishop Sampson was passing over the Thames in

a barge, in company with the bishop of Durham, to Lambeth Palace, the

latter produced an old Greek book which he used to carry in his pocket,

and showed Sampson several places in that book wherein matters that

were then in controversy were ordained by the Greek Church.[258] These

bishops, who spoke so courageously to each other, did not speak so with

the king. They feigned complete accordance with him; and for him they

had nothing but flatteries. Cranmer was not strong, but at least he was

never a hypocrite. Sampson, however, exhibited so much penitence and

promised so much submission that he was liberated. But Cromwell now

knew what to think of the matter. A conspiracy was threatening the work

which he had been at so much pains to accomplish. He observed that the

archbishop's influence was declining at court, and he began to have

secret forebodings of calamity in which he would be himself involved.

Gardiner, in fact, energetically urged the king to re-establish all

the ancient usages. Thus, although but a little while before orders

had been given to place bibles in the churches, and to preach against

pilgrimages, tapers, kissing of relics, and other like practices,[259]

it was now forbidden to translate, publish, and circulate any religious

works without the king's permission; and injunctions were issued for

the use of holy water, for processions, for kneeling down and crawling

before the cross, and for lighting of tapers before the _Corpus

Christi_. Discussions about this sacrament of the Eucharist were

prohibited.[260] It was Gardiner's wish to seal these ordinances with

the blood of martyrs. He had begun by striking _in anima vili_; the

persecution of the Dutch sacramentarians was merely the _exordium_; it

was needful now to proceed to the very action itself, to strike a blow

at an evangelical and esteemed Englishman, and to invest his death with

a certain importance.

[Sidenote: JOHN NICHOLSON.]

There was at this time in London, a minister named John Nicholson,

who had studied at the university of Cambridge, had been converted by

means of his conversations with Bilney, and had afterwards been the

friend of Tyndale and Frith, and by his intercourse with them had been

strengthened in the faith. He was a conscientious man, who did not

suppose that it was enough to hold a doctrine comformable with the Word

of God, but, conscious of the great value of the truth, was ready to

lay down his life for it, even if there were nothing at stake but a

point looked upon as secondary. Faithfulness or unfaithfulness to one's

convictions--this was in his view the decisive test of the morality

or immorality of a man. In the age of the Reformation there were

greater preachers and greater theologians than Nicholson; but there

was not one more deserving of honor. Having translated from the Latin

and the Greek works which might give offence, and having professed his

faith, he had been obliged to cross the sea, and he became chaplain to

the English house at Antwerp. Here it was that he became acquainted

with Tyndale and Frith. Being accused of heresy by one Barlow, he

was taken to London, by order of Sir Thomas More, then chancellor,

and was kept prisoner at Oxford, in the house of Archbishop Warham,

where he was deprived of every thing, especially of books. On the

occasion of his appearance, in 1532, before the archbishop and other

prelates, Nicholson steadfastly maintained that all that is necessary

to salvation is to be found in the Holy Scripture. 'This,' he said, 'is

the question which is the head and whole content of all others objected

against me. This is both the helm and stern of both together.'[261]

There were forty-five points, and to these he made answer article by

article.[262] Shortly afterwards, in consequence of the death of Warham

and of Cranmer's appointment to the vacant see, the Antwerp chaplain

was set at liberty. He determined to remain in London, took, it seems,

from prudential considerations, the name of Lambert, and devoted

himself to the labors of a teacher, but at the same time adhered to the

resolution to avail himself of every opportunity of maintaining the

truth.

[Sidenote: HIS WORK ON THE LORD'S SUPPER.]

Being informed one day that Doctor Taylor was to preach at St. Peter's

Church, Cornhill, he went to hear him, not only because of his

well-known gifts, but also because he was not far from the Gospel. He

was later appointed bishop of Lincoln under pious King Edward, and

was deprived of that office under the fanatical Mary. Taylor preached

that day on the real presence of Christ in the bread and the wine.

Nicholson also believed, indeed, in the presence of the Lord in the

Supper, but this presence, he believed, was in the hearts of the

faithful. After the service he went to see Taylor, and with modesty

and kindliness urged various arguments against the doctrines which he

had been setting forth. 'I have not time just now,' said the doctor,

'to discuss the point with you, as other matters demand my attention;

but oblige me by putting your thoughts in writing and call again when

I am more at leisure.' Lambert applied himself to the task of writing,

and against the doctrine of the presence in the _bread_ he adduced ten

arguments, which were, says Fox, very powerful. It does not appear

that Taylor replied to them. He was an upright man, who gave impartial

consideration to these questions, and by Nicholson's reasoning he seems

to have been somewhat shaken. As Taylor was anxious to be enlightened

himself and to try to satisfy his friendly opponent, he communicated

the document to Barnes. The latter, a truly evangelical Christian, was

nevertheless of opinion that to put forward the doctrine of this little

work would seriously injure the cause of the Reformation. He therefore

advised Taylor to speak to Archbishop Cranmer on the subject. Cranmer,

who was of the same opinion, invited Nicholson to a conference, at

which Barnes, Taylor, and Latimer were also present. These four

divines had not at this time abandoned the view which the ex-chaplain

of Antwerp opposed: and considering the fresh revival of sacramental

Catholicism, they were not inclined to do so. They strove therefore to

change the opinion of the pious minister, but in vain. Finding that

they unanimously condemned his views, he exclaimed: 'Well then, I

appeal to the king.' This was a foolish and fatal appeal.

Gardiner did not lose a minute, but promptly took the business in

hand, because he saw in it an opportunity of striking a heavy blow;

and, what was an inestimable advantage, he would have on his side,

he thought, Cranmer and the other three evangelical divines. He

therefore 'went straight to the king,'[263] and requesting a private

audience, addressed him in the most flattering terms. Then, as if the

interests of the king were dearer to him than to the king himself, he

respectfully pointed out that he had everywhere excited by various

recent proceedings suspicion and hatred; but that at this moment a

way was open for pacifying men's minds, 'if only in this matter of

John Lambert, he would manifest unto the people how strictly he would

resist heretics; and by this new rumor he would bring to pass not only

to extinguish all other former rumors, and as it were with one nail to

drive out another, but also should discharge himself of all suspicion,

in that he now began to be reported to be a favorer of new sects and

opinions.'[264]

The vanity as well as the interests of Henry VIII. dictated to him the

same course as Gardiner advised. He determined to avail himself of this

opportunity to make an ostentatious display of his own knowledge and

zeal. He would make arrangements of an imposing character; it would not

be enough to hold a mere conversation, but there must be a grand show.

He therefore ordered invitations to be sent to a great number of nobles

and bishops to attend the solemn trial at which he would appear as head

of the church. He was not content with the title alone, he would show

that he acted the part. One of the principal characteristics of Henry

VIII. was a fondness for showing off what he conceived himself to be or

what he supposed himself to know, without ever suspecting that display

is often the ruin of those who wish to seem more than they are.[265]

Meanwhile Lambert, confined at Lambeth, wrote an apology for his faith

which he dedicated to the king, and in which he solidly established

the doctrine which he had professed.[266] He rejoiced that his request

to be heard before Henry VIII. had been granted. He desired that his

trial might be blessed, and he indulged in the pleasing illusion

that the king, once set in the presence of the truth, must needs be

enlightened and would publicly proclaim it. These pleasant fancies gave

him courage, and he lived on hope.

[Sidenote: LAMBERT BEFORE THE KING.]

On the appointed day, Friday, November 16, 1538, the assembly was

constituted in Westminster Hall. The king, in his robes of state,

sat upon the throne. On his right were the bishops, judges, and

jurisconsults; on his left the lords temporal of the realm and the

officers of the royal house. The guards, attired in white, were near

their master, and a crowd of spectators filled the hall. The prisoner

was placed at the bar. Doctor Day[267] spoke to the following effect:

That the king in this session would have all states, degrees, bishops,

and all others to be admonished of his will and pleasure, that no man

should conceive any sinister opinion of him, as that now the authority

and name of the bishop of Rome being utterly abolished, he would also

extinguish all religion, or give liberty unto heretics to perturb and

trouble, without punishment, the churches of England, whereof he is the

head. And moreover that they should not think that they were assembled

at that present to make any disputation upon the heretical doctrine;

but only for this purpose, that by the industry of him and other

bishops the heresies of this man here present (meaning Lambert), and

the heresies of all such like, should be refuted or openly condemned

in the presence of them all. Henry's part then began. His look was

sternly fixed on Lambert, who stood facing him; his features were

contracted, his brows were knit.[268] His whole aspect was adapted

to inspire terror, and indicated a violence of anger unbecoming in a

judge, and still more so in a sovereign. He rose, stood leaning on a

white cushion, and looking Lambert full in the face, he said to him in

a disdainful tone: 'Ho! good fellow, what is thy name?' The accused,

humbly kneeling down, replied: 'My name is John Nicholson, although of

many I be called Lambert.' 'What!' said the king, 'have you two names?

I would not trust you, having two names, although you were my brother.'

'O most noble prince,' replied the accused, 'your bishops forced me of

necessity to change my name.' Thereupon the king, interrupting him,

commanded him to declare what he thought as touching the sacrament

of the altar. 'Sire,' said Lambert, 'first of all I give God thanks

that you do not disdain to hear me. Many good men, in many places,

are put to death, without your knowledge. But now, forasmuch as that

high and eternal King of kings hath inspired and stirred up the king's

mind to understand the causes of his subjects, specially whom God of

his divine goodness hath so abundantly endued with so great gifts of

judgment and knowledge, I do not mistrust but that God will bring some

great thing to pass through him, to the setting forth of the glory

of his name.' Henry, who could not bear to be praised by a heretic,

rudely interrupted Lambert, and said to him in an angry tone: 'I came

not hither to hear mine own praises thus painted out in my presence;

but briefly go to the matter, without any more circumstance.' There

was so much harshness in the king's voice that Lambert was agitated

and confused. He had dreamed of something very different. He had

conceived a sovereign just and elevated above the reach of clerical

passions, whose noble understanding would be struck with the beauty of

the Gospel. But he saw a passionate man, a servant of the priests.

In astonishment and confusion he kept silence for a few minutes,

questioning within himself what he ought to do in the extremity to

which he was reduced.

[Sidenote: HIS ADDRESS.]

Lambert was especially attached to the great verities of the Christian

religion, and during his trial he made unreserved confession of them.

'Our Saviour would not have us greatly esteem our merits,' said

he, 'when we have done what is commanded by God, but rather reckon

ourselves to be but servants unprofitable to God ... not regarding our

merit, but his grace and benefit. Woe be to the life of men, said St.

Augustine, be they ever so holy, if Thou shalt examine them, setting

thy mercy aside.... Again he says, Doth any man give what he oweth not

unto Thee, that Thou should'st be in his debt? and hath any man aught

that is not Thine?... All my hope is in the Lord's death. His death is

my merit, my refuge, my health, and my resurrection. And thus,' adds

Lambert, 'we should serve God with hearty love as children, and not for

need or dread, as unloving thralls and servants.'[269]

But the king wanted to localize the attack and to limit the examination

of Lambert to the subject of the sacrament. Finding that the accused

stood silent, the king said to him in a hasty manner with anger and

vehemency:[270] 'Why standest thou still? Answer as touching the

sacrament of the altar, whether dost thou say that it is the body

of Christ or wilt deny it?' After uttering these words, the king

lifted up his cap adorned with pearls and feathers, probably as a

token of reverence for the subject under discussion. 'I answer with

St. Augustine,' said Lambert, 'that it is the body of Christ after

a certain manner.'[271] The king replied: 'Answer me neither out of

St. Augustine, nor by the authority of any other; but tell me plainly

whether thou sayest it is the body of Christ or no.' Lambert felt what

might be the consequences of his answer, but without hesitation he

said: 'Then I deny it to be the body of Christ.' 'Mark well!' exclaimed

the king; 'for now thou shalt be condemned even by Christ's own word,

_Hoc est corpus meum_.'

The king then turning to Cranmer commanded him to refute the opinion

of the accused. The archbishop spoke with modesty, calling Lambert

'brother,' and although refuting his arguments he told him that if he

proved his opinion from Holy Scripture, he (Cranmer) would willingly

embrace it. Gardiner, finding that Cranmer was too weak, began to

speak. Tonstall and Stokesley followed. Lambert had put forward ten

arguments, and ten doctors were appointed to deal with them, each

doctor to impugn one of them. Of the whole disputation the passage

which made the deepest impression on the assembly was Stokesley's

argument. 'It is the doctrine of the philosophers,' he said, 'that

a substance can not be changed but into a substance.' Then, by the

example of water boiling on the fire, he affirmed the substance of

the water to pass into the substance of the air.[272] On hearing

this argument, the aspect of the bishops, hitherto somewhat uneasy,

suddenly changed. They were transported with joy, and considered this

transmutation of the elements as giving them the victory, and they cast

their looks over the whole assembly with an air of triumph. Loud shouts

of applause for some time interrupted the sitting. When silence was at

length restored, Lambert replied that the moistness of the water, its

real essence, remained even after this transformation; that nothing

was changed but the form; while in their system of the _corpus domini_

the substance itself was changed; and that it is impossible that the

qualities and accidents of things should remain in their own nature

apart from their own subject. But Lambert was not allowed to finish

his refutation. The king and the bishops, indignant that he ventured

to impugn an argument which had transported them with admiration, gave

vent to their rage against him,[273] so that he was forced to silence,

and had to endure patiently all their insults.

[Sidenote: CONDEMNATION OF LAMBERT.]

The sitting had lasted from noon till five o'clock in the evening. It

had been a real martyrdom for Lambert. Loaded with rebukes and insults,

intimidated by the solemnity of the proceedings and by the authority

of the persons with whom he had to do, alarmed by the presence of the

king and by the terrible threats which were uttered against him, his

body too, which was weak before, giving way under the fatigue of a

sitting of five hours, during which, standing all the time, he had been

compelled to fight a fierce battle, convinced that the clearest and

most irresistible demonstrations would be smothered amidst the outcries

of the bystanders, he called to mind these words of Scripture, 'Be

still,' and was silent. This self-restraint was regarded as defeat.

Where is the knowledge so much boasted of? they said; where is his

power of argumentation? The assembly had looked for great bursts of

eloquence, but the accused was silent. The palm of victory was awarded

to the king and the bishops by noisy and universal shouts of applause.

It was now night. The servants of the royal house appeared in the hall

and lighted the torches. Henry began to find his part as head of the

church somewhat wearisome. He determined to bring the business to a

conclusion, and by his severity to give to the pope and to Christendom

a brilliant proof of his orthodoxy. 'What sayest thou now,' he said to

Lambert, 'after all these great labors which thou hast taken upon thee,

and all the reasons and instructions of these learned men? Art thou

not yet satisfied? Wilt thou live or die? What sayest thou? Thou hast

yet free choice.' Lambert answered, 'I commend my soul into the hands

of God, but my body I wholly yield and submit unto your clemency.'

Then said the king, 'In that case you must die, for I will not be a

patron unto heretics.' Unhappy Lambert! He had committed himself to

the mercy of a prince who never spared a man who offended him, were it

even his closest friend. The monarch turned to his vicar-general and

said, 'Cromwell, read the sentence of condemnation.' This was a cruel

task to impose upon a man universally considered to be the friend of

the evangelicals. But Cromwell felt the ground already trembling under

his feet. He took the sentence and read it. Lambert was condemned to be

burnt.

Four days afterwards, on Tuesday, November 20, the evangelist was

taken out of the prison at eight o'clock in the morning and brought

to Cromwell's house. Cromwell summoned him to his room and announced

that the hour of his death was come. The tidings greatly consoled and

gladdened Lambert. It is stated that Cromwell added some words by way

of excuse for the part which he had taken in his condemnation, and

sent him into the room where the gentlemen of his household were at

breakfast. He sat down and at their invitation partook of the meal

with them, with all the composure of a Christian. Immediately after

breakfast he was taken to Smithfield, and was there placed on the

pile, which was not raised high. His legs only were burnt, and nothing

remained but the stumps. He was, however, still alive; and two of the

soldiers, observing that his whole body could not be consumed, thrust

into him their halberts, one on each side, and raised him above the

fire. The martyr, stretching towards the people his hands now burning,

said, 'None but Christ! None but Christ!' At this moment the soldiers

withdrew their weapons and let the pious Lambert drop into the fire,

which speedily consumed him.[274]

[Sidenote: FLATTERIES.]

Henry VIII., however, was not satisfied. The hope which he had

entertained of inducing Lambert to recant had been disappointed.

The Anglo-Catholic party made up for this by everywhere extolling

his learning and his eloquence. They praised his sayings to the

skies--every one of them was an oracle; he was in very deed the

defender of the faith. There was one, not belonging to that party,

who wrote to Sir Thomas Wyatt, then foreign minister to the king, as

follows:--'It was marvellous to see the gravity and the majestic air

with which his majesty discharged the functions of _Supreme head of

the Anglican Church_; the mildness with which he tried to convert that

unhappy man; the force of reasoning with which he opposed him. Would

that the princes and potentates of Christendom could have been present

at the spectacle; they would certainly have admired the wisdom and the

judgment of his majesty, and would have said _that the king is the most

excellent prince in the Christian world_.'[275]

This writer was Cromwell himself. He suppressed at this time all

the best aspirations of his nature, believing that, as is generally

thought, if one means to retain the favor of princes, it is necessary

to adapt one's self to all their wishes. A mournful fall, which was not

to be the only one of the kind! It has been said, 'Every flatterer,

whoever he may be, is always a treacherous and hateful creature.'[276]

History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin, Vol. 8 (of 8) · 第 2 / 15 章