THE KING SEEKS AFTER TYNDALE.
(JANUARY TO MAY 1531.)
[Sidenote: The Oak And The Ivy.]
Henry VIII., finding that he wanted men like Latimer to resist the pope,
sought to win over others of the same stamp. He found one, whose lofty
range he understood immediately. Thomas Cromwell had laid before him a
book, then very eagerly read all over England, namely, the _Practice of
Prelates_. It was found in the houses not only of the citizens of
London, but of the farmers of Essex, Suffolk, and other counties. The
king read it quite as eagerly as his subjects. Nothing interested him
like the history of the slow but formidable progress of the priesthood
and prelacy. One parable in particular struck him, in which the oak
represented royalty, and the ivy the papacy. ‘First, the ivy springeth
out of the earth, and then awhile creepeth along by the ground till it
find a great tree. There it joineth itself beneath alow unto the body of
the tree, and creepeth up a little and a little, fair and softly. And at
the beginning, while it is yet thin and small, that the burden is not
perceived, it seemeth glorious to garnish the tree in the winter, and to
bear off the tempests of the weather. But in the mean season it
thrusteth roots into the bark of the tree to hold fast withal; and
ceaseth not to climb up till it be at the top and above all. And then it
sendeth its branches along by the branches of the tree, and overgroweth
all, and waxeth great, heavy, and thick; and sucketh the moisture so
sore out of the tree and its branches, that it choketh and stifleth
them. And then the foul stinking ivy waxeth mighty in the stump of the
tree, and becometh a seat and a nest for all unclean birds and for blind
owls, which hawk in the dark and dare not come at the light. Even so the
Bishop of Rome at the beginning crope along upon the earth.... He crept
up and fastened his roots in the heart of the emperor, and by subtilty
clamb above the emperor, and subdued him, and made him stoop unto his
feet and kiss them another while. Yea, when he had put the crown on the
emperor’s head, he smote it off with his feet again.’[91]
Henry would willingly have clapped his hand on his sword to demand
satisfaction of the pope for this outrage. The book was by Tyndale.
Laying it down, the king reflected on what he had just read, and thought
to himself that the author had some striking ideas ‘on the accursed
power of the pope,’ and that he was besides gifted with talent and zeal,
and might render excellent service towards abolishing the papacy in
England.
Tyndale, from the time of his conversion at Oxford, set Christ above
everything. He boldly threw off the yoke of human traditions, and would
take no other guide but Scripture only. Full of imagination and
eloquence, active and ready to endure fatigue, he exposed himself to
every danger in the fulfilment of his mission.[92] Henry ordered Stephen
Vaughan, one of his agents, then at Antwerp, to try and find the
Reformer in Brabant, Flanders, on the banks of the Rhine, in Holland,
... wherever he might chance to be; to offer him a safe-conduct under
the sign-manual, to prevail on him to return to England, and to add the
most gracious promises in behalf of his Majesty.[93]
To gain over Tyndale seemed even more important than to have gained
Latimer. Vaughan immediately undertook to seek him in Antwerp, where he
was said to be, but could not find him. ‘He is at Marburg,’ said one;
‘at Frankfort,’ said another; ‘at Hamburg,’ declared a third. Tyndale
was invisible now as before. To make more certain, Vaughan determined to
write three letters directed to those three places, conjuring him to
return to England.[94] ‘I have great hopes,’ said the English agent to
his friends, ‘of having done something that will please his Majesty.’
Tyndale, the most scriptural of English reformers, the most inflexible
in his faith, laboring at the Reformation with the cordial approbation
of the monarch, would truly have been something extraordinary.
Scarcely had the three letters been despatched when Vaughan heard of the
ignominious chastisement inflicted by Sir Thomas More on Tyndale’s
brother.[95] Was it by such indignities that Henry expected to attract
the Reformer? Vaughan, much annoyed, wrote to the king (26th January,
1531) that this event would make Tyndale think they wanted to entrap
him, and he gave up looking after him.
[Sidenote: Vaughan Meets Tyndale.]
Three months later (17th April), as Vaughan was busy copying one of
Tyndale’s manuscripts in order to send it to Henry (it was his answer to
the _Dialogue_ of Sir Thomas More), a man knocked at his door. ‘Some
one, who calls himself a friend of yours, desires very much to speak
with you,’ said the stranger, ‘and begs you to follow me.’—‘Who is this
friend? Where is he?’ asked Vaughan.—‘I do not know him,’ replied the
messenger; ‘but come along, and you will see for yourself.’ Vaughan
doubted whether it was prudent to follow this person to a strange place.
He made up his mind, however, to accompany him. The agent of Henry VIII.
and the messenger threaded the streets of Antwerp, went out of the city,
and at last reached a lonely field, by the side of which the Scheldt
flowed sluggishly through the level country.[96] As he advanced, Vaughan
saw a man of noble bearing, who appeared to be about fifty years of age.
‘Do you not recognize me?’ he asked Vaughan. ‘I cannot call to mind your
features,’ answered the latter. ‘My name is Tyndale,’ said the stranger.
‘Tyndale!’ exclaimed Vaughan, with delight. ‘Tyndale! what a happy
meeting!’
Tyndale, who had heard of Henry’s new plans, had no confidence either in
the prince or in his pretended Reformation. The king’s endless
negotiations with the pope, his worldliness, his amours, his persecution
of evangelical Christians, and especially the ignominious punishment
inflicted on John Tyndale: all these matters disgusted him. However,
having been informed of the nature of Vaughan’s mission, he desired to
turn it to advantage by addressing a few warnings to the prince. ‘I have
written certain books,’ he said, ‘to warn your Majesty of the subtle
demeanor of the clergy of your realm towards your person, in which doing
I showed the heart of a true subject; to the intent that your Grace
might prepare your remedies against their subtle dreams. An exile from
my native country, I suffer hunger, thirst, cold, absence of friends,
everywhere encompassed with great danger, in innumerable hard and sharp
fightings, I do not feel their asperity, by reason that I hope with my
labors to do honor to God, true service to my prince, and pleasure to
his commons.’[97]
‘Cheer up,’ said Vaughan, ‘your exile, poverty, fightings, all are at an
end; you can return to England.’... ‘What matters it,’ said Tyndale, ‘if
my exile finishes, so long as the Bible is banished? Has the king
forgotten that God has commanded His Word to be spread throughout the
world? If it continues to be forbidden to his subjects, very death were
more pleasant to me than life.’[98]
Vaughan did not consider himself worsted. The messenger, who remained at
a distance, and could hear nothing, was astonished at seeing the two men
in that solitary field conversing together so long and with so much
animation. ‘Tell me what guarantees you desire,’ said Vaughan: ‘the king
will grant them you.’ ‘Of course the king would give me a safe-conduct,’
answered Tyndale; ‘but the clergy would persuade him that promises made
to heretics are not binding.’ Night was coming on. Henry’s agent might
have had Tyndale followed and seized.[99] The idea occurred to Vaughan,
but he rejected it. Tyndale began, however, to feel himself ill at
ease.[100] ‘Farewell,’ he said; ‘you shall see me again before long, or
hear news of me.’ He then departed, walking away from Antwerp. Vaughan,
who re-entered the city, was surprised to see Tyndale make for the open
country. He supposed it to be a stratagem, and once more doubted whether
he ought not to have seized the Reformer to please his master. ‘I might
have failed of my purpose,’ he said.[101] Besides it was now too late,
for Tyndale had disappeared.
[Sidenote: The King On Tyndale’s Treatise.]
As soon as Vaughan reached home, he hastened to send to London an
account of this singular conference. Cromwell immediately proceeded to
court, and laid before the king the envoy’s letter and the Reformer’s
book. ‘Good!’ said Henry; ‘as soon as I have leisure, I will read them
both.’[102] He did so, and was exasperated against Tyndale, who refused
his invitation, mistrusted his word, and even dared to give him advice.
The king in his passion tore off the latter part of Vaughan’s letter,
flung it in the fire, and entirely gave up his idea of bringing the
Reformer into England to make use of him against the pope, fearing that
such a torch would set the whole kingdom in a blaze. He thought only how
he could seize him and punish him for his arrogance.
He sent for Cromwell. Before him on the table lay the treatise by
Tyndale, which Vaughan had copied and sent. ‘These pages,’ said Henry to
his minister, while pointing to the manuscript, ‘These pages are the
work of a visionary: they are full of lies, sedition, and calumny.
Vaughan shows too much affection for Tyndale.[103] Let him beware of
inviting him to come into the kingdom. He is a perverse and hardened
character, who cannot be changed. I am too happy that he is out of
England.’
Cromwell retired in vexation. He wrote to Vaughan; but the king found
the letter too weak, and Cromwell had to correct it to make it harmonize
with the wrath of the prince.[104] An ambitious man, he bent before the
obstinate will of his master; but the loss of Tyndale seemed
irreparable. Accordingly, while informing Vaughan of the king’s anger,
he added that, if wholesome reflection should bring Tyndale to reason,
the king was ‘_so inclined to mercy, pity, and compassion_’[105] that he
would doubtless see him with pleasure. Vaughan, whose heart Tyndale had
gained, began to hunt after him again, and had a second interview with
him. He gave him Cromwell’s letter to read, and, when the Reformer came
to the words we have just quoted about Henry’s compassion, his eyes
filled with tears.[106] ‘What gracious words!’ he exclaimed. ‘Yes,’ said
Vaughan; ‘they have such sweetness that they would break the hardest
heart in the world.’ Tyndale, deeply moved, tried to find some mode of
fulfilling his duty towards God and towards the king. ‘If his Majesty,’
he said, ‘would condescend to permit the Holy Scriptures to circulate
among the people in all their purity, as they do in the states of the
emperor and in other Christian countries, I would bind myself never to
write again. I would throw myself at his feet, offering my body as a
sacrifice, ready to submit, if necessary, to torture and death.’
But a gulf lay between the monarch and the Reformer. Henry VIII. saw the
seeds of heresy in the Scriptures, and Tyndale rejected every
reformation which they wished to carry out by proscribing the Bible.
‘Heresy springeth not from the Scriptures,’ he said, ‘no more than
darkness from the sun.’[107] Tyndale disappeared again, and the name of
his hiding-place is unknown.
[Sidenote: Henry Fails To Gain Tynsdale.]
The King of England was not discouraged by the check he had received. He
wanted men possessed of talent and zeal—men resolved to attack the pope.
Cambridge had given England a teacher who might be placed beside, and
perhaps even above, Latimer and Tyndale. This was John Fryth. He
thirsted for the truth; he sought God, and was determined to give
himself wholly to Jesus Christ. One day Cromwell said to the king, ‘What
a pity it is, your Highness, that a man so distinguished as Fryth in
letters and sciences should be among the sectarians!’ Like Tyndale, he
had quitted England. Cromwell, with Henry’s consent, wrote to Vaughan:
‘His Majesty strongly desires the reconciliation of Fryth, who (he
firmly believes) is not so far advanced as Tyndale in the evil way.
Always full of mercy, the king is ready to receive him to favor. Try to
attract him charitably, politically.’ Vaughan immediately began his
inquiries,—it was May, 1531,—but the first news he received was that
Fryth, a minister of the Gospel, was just married in Holland. ‘This
marriage,’ he wrote to the king, ‘may by chance hinder my
persuasion.’[108] This was not all: Fryth was boldly printing, at
Amsterdam, Tyndale’s answer to Sir Thomas More. Henry was forced to give
him up, as he had given up his friend. He succeeded with none but
Latimer, and even the chaplain told him many harsh truths. There was a
decided incompatibility between the spiritual reform and the political
reform. The work of God refused to ally itself with the work of the
throne. The Christian faith and the visible Church are two distinct
things. Some (and among them the Reformers) require Christianity—a
living Christianity; others (and it was the case of Henry and his
prelates) look for the Church and its hierarchy, and care little whether
a living faith be found there or not. This is a capital error. Real
religion must exist first; and then this religion must produce a true
religious society. Tyndale, Fryth, and their friends desired to begin
with religion; Henry and his followers with an ecclesiastical society
hostile to faith. The king and the reformers could not, therefore, come
to an understanding. Henry, profoundly hurt by the boldness of those
evangelical men, swore that, as they would not have peace, they should
have war, ... war to the knife.
Footnote 91:
‘Dominus autem papa statim percussit cum pede suo coronam imperatoris
et dejecit eam in terram.’—Tyndale, _Practice of Prelates_, p. 170
(Parker Soc.).
Footnote 92:
_History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century_, vol. v.
Footnote 93:
‘Upon the promise of your Majesty, be content to repair into
England.’—Vaughan to Henry VIII. Cotton MSS. Galba, bk. x. fol. 42.
_Bible Ann._ i. p. 270.
Footnote 94:
‘Whatsoever surety he could reasonably desire.’—Vaughan to Cromwell,
ibid. p. 270.
Footnote 95:
_History of the Reformation of the Sixteenth Century_, tom. v. book
xx. ch. 15.
Footnote 96:
‘He brought me without the gates ... into a field.’—Anderson, _Annals
of the English Bible_, p. 272.
Footnote 97:
Anderson (Chr.), _Annals of the English Bible_, p. 152.
Footnote 98:
Ibid.
Footnote 99:
‘Lest I would have persued him.’—Anderson, p. 152.
Footnote 100:
‘Being something fearful.’—_Ibid._
Footnote 101:
Cotton MSS. Titus, bk. i. fol. 6, 7. Anderson, _Annals_, i. p. 273.
Footnote 102:
‘At opportune leasure his Highness would read the content.’—Ibid p.
275.
Footnote 103:
‘Ye bear much affection toward the said Tyndale.’—Cotton MSS. Galba,
bk. x. fol. 388. Anderson, _Annals_, p. 275.
Footnote 104:
The corrections are still to be seen in the original draft, and are
indicated in the biographical notice of Tyndale at the beginning of
his _Practices_ (Parker Society), pp. 46, 47.
Footnote 105:
_State Papers_, vii. p. 303.
Footnote 106:
‘In such wise that water stoode in his eyes.’—_State Papers_, vii. p.
303.
Footnote 107:
Tyndale, _Exposition_, p. 141.
Footnote 108:
_State Papers_, vii. p. 302.