centuries England was becoming fitted for an English Bible. The future
language of the nation was being formed; the Saxon and Norman French
were struggling side by side; gradually the old Saxon grew
unintelligible to the people; gradually the French became a foreign
tongue, and with the fusion of the two races a language grew up which
was the language of united England.
Passing, then, from the quiet death-beds of Alfred and of Bede, we
transfer ourselves to the great hall of the Blackfriars' monastery,
London, on a dull, warm May day in 1378, amid purple robes and gowns of
satin and damask, amid monks and abbots, and bishops and doctors of the
Church, assembled for the trial of John Wycliffe, the parish priest of
Lutterworth.
The great hall, crowded to its heavy oaken doors, witnesses to the
interest that is centred in the trial, and all eyes are fixed on the
pale, stern old man who stands before the dais silently facing his
judges. He is quite alone, and his thoughts go back, with some
bitterness, to his previous trial, when the people crowded the doors
shouting for their favorite, and John of Gaunt and the Lord Marshal of
England were standing by his side. He has learned since then not to put
his trust in princes. The power of his enemies has rapidly grown; even
the young King (Richard II) has been won over to their cause, and
patrons and friends have drawn back from his side, whom the Church has
resolved to crush.
The judges have taken their seats, and the accused stands awaiting the
charges to be read, when suddenly there is a quick cry of terror. A
strange rumbling sound fills the air, and the walls of the judgment hall
are trembling to their base--the monastery and the city of London are
being shaken by an earthquake! Friar and prelate grow pale with
superstitious awe. Twice already has this arraignment of Wycliffe been
strangely interrupted. Are the elements in league with this enemy of the
Church? Shall they give up the trial?
"No!" thunders Archbishop Courtenay, rising in his place. "We shall not
give up the trial. This earthquake but portends the purging of the
kingdom; for as there are in the bowels of the earth noxious vapors
which only by a violent earthquake can be purged away, so are these
evils brought by such men upon this land which only by a very earthquake
can ever be removed. Let the trial go forward!"
What think you, reader, were the evils which this pale ascetic had
wrought, needing a very earthquake to cleanse them from the land? Had he
falsified the divine message to the people in his charge? Was he turning
men's hearts from the worship of God? Was his priestly office disgraced
by carelessness or drunkenness or impurity of life?
Oh, no. Such faults could be gently judged at the tribunal in the
Blackfriars' hall. Wycliffe's was a far more serious crime. He had dared
to attack the corruptions of the Church, and especially the enormities
of the begging friars; he had indignantly denounced pardons and
indulgences and masses for the soul as part of a system of gigantic
fraud; and worst of all, he had filled up the cup of his iniquity by
translating the Scriptures into the English tongue; "making it," as one
of the chroniclers angrily complains, "common and more open to laymen
and to women than it was wont to be to clerks well learned and of good
understanding. So that the pearl of the Gospel is trodden under foot of
swine."
The feeling of his opponents will be better understood if we notice the
position of the Church in England at the time. The meridian of her power
had been already passed. Her clergy as a class were ignorant and
corrupt. Her people were neglected, except for the money to be extorted
by masses and pardons, "as if," to quote the words of an old writer,
"God had given his sheep, not to be pastured, but to be shaven and
shorn." This state of things had gone on for centuries, and the people
like dumb, driven cattle had submitted. But those who could discern the
signs of the times must have seen now that it could not go on much
longer. The spread of education was rapidly increasing, several new
colleges having been founded in Oxford during Wycliffe's lifetime. A
strong spirit of independence, too, was rising among the people. Already
Edward III and his parliament had indignantly refused the Pope's demand
for the annual tribute to be sent to Rome. It was evident that a crisis
was near. And, as if to hasten the crisis, the famous schism of the
papacy had placed two popes at the head of the Church, and all
Christendom was scandalized by the sight of the rival "vicars of Jesus
Christ" anathematizing each other from Rome and Avignon, raising armies
and slaughtering helpless women and children, each for the aggrandizing
of himself.
The minds of men in England were greatly agitated, and Wycliffe felt
that at such a time the firmest charter of the Church would be the open
Bible in her children's hands; the best exposure of the selfish policy
of her rulers, the exhibiting to the people the beautiful,
self-forgetting life of Jesus Christ as recorded in the Gospels. "The
sacred Scriptures," he said, "are the property of the people, and one
which no one should be allowed to wrest from them. Christ and his
apostles converted the world by making known the Scriptures to men in a
form familiar to them, and I pray with all my heart that through doing
the things contained in this book we may all together come to the
everlasting life." This Bible translation he placed far the first in
importance of all his attempts to reform the English Church, and he
pursued his object with a vigor and against an opposition that remind
one of the old monk of Bethlehem and his Bible a thousand years before.
The result of the Blackfriars' synod was that after three days'
deliberation Wycliffe's teaching was condemned, and at a subsequent
meeting he himself was excommunicated. He returned to his quiet
parsonage at Lutterworth--for his enemies dared not yet proceed to
extremities--and there, with his pile of old Latin manuscripts and
commentaries, he labored on at the great work of his life, till the
whole Bible was translated into the "modir tongue," and England received
for the first time in her history a complete version of the Scriptures
in the language of the people.
And scarce was his task well finished when, like his great predecessor
Bede, the brave old priest laid down his life. He himself had expected
that a violent death would have finished his course. His enemies were
many and powerful; the Primate, the King, and the Pope were against
him--with the friars, whom he had so often and so fiercely defied; so
that his destruction seemed but a mere question of time. But while his
enemies were preparing to strike, the old man "was not, for God took
him."
It was the close of the old year, the last Sunday of 1384, and his
little flock at Lutterworth were kneeling in hushed reverence before the
altar, when suddenly, at the time of the elevation of the sacrament, he
fell to the ground in a violent fit of the palsy, and never spoke again
until his death on the last day of the year.
In him England lost one of her best and greatest sons, a patriot sternly
resenting all dishonor to his country, a reformer who ventured his life
for the purity of the Church and the freedom of the Bible--an earnest,
faithful "parson of a country town," standing out conspicuously among
the clergy of the time.
"For Cristè's lore and his apostles twelve
He taughte--and first he folwede it himselve."
Here is a choice specimen from one of the monkish writers of the time
describing his death: "On the feast of the passion of St. Thomas of
Canterbury, John Wycliffe, the organ of the devil, the enemy of the
Church, the idol of heretics, the image of hypocrites, the restorer of
schism, the storehouse of lies, the sink of flattery, being struck by
the horrible judgment of God, was seized with the palsy throughout his
whole body, and that mouth which was to have spoken huge things against
God and his saints, and holy Church, was miserably drawn aside, and
afforded a frightful spectacle to beholders; his tongue was speechless
and his head shook, showing painfully plainly that the curse which God
had thundered forth against Cain was also inflicted on him."
Some time after his death a petition was presented to the Pope, which to
his honor he rejected, praying him to order Wycliffe's body to be taken
out of consecrated ground and buried in a dunghill. But forty years
after, by a decree of the Council of Constance, the old reformer's bones
were dug up and burned, and the ashes flung into the little river Swift
which "runneth hard by his church at Lutterworth." And so, in the
often-quoted words of old Fuller, "as the Swift bear them into the
Severn, and the Severn into the narrow seas, and they again into the
ocean, thus the ashes of Wycliffe is an emblem of his doctrine, which is
now dispersed all over the world."
But it is with his Bible translation that we are specially concerned. As
far as we can learn, the whole Bible was not translated by the reformer.
About half the Old Testament is ascribed to Nicholas de Hereford, one of
the Oxford leaders of the Lollards; the remainder, with the whole of the
New Testament, being done by Wycliffe himself. About eight years after
its completion the whole was revised by Richard Purvey, his curate and
intimate friend, whose manuscript is still in the library of Trinity
College, Dublin. Purvey's preface is a most interesting old document,
and shows not only that he was deeply in earnest about his work, but
that he thoroughly understood the intellectual and moral conditions
necessary for its success.
"A simpel creature," he says, "hath translated the Scripture out of
Latin into Englische. First, this simpel creature had much travayle
with divers fellows and helpers to gather many old Bibles and other
doctors and glosses to make one Latin Bible. Some deal true and then to
study it anew the texte and any other help he might get, especially Lyra
on the Old Testament, which helped him much with this work. The third
time to counsel with olde grammarians and old divines of hard words and
hard sentences how they might best be understood and translated, the
fourth time to translate as clearly as he could to the sense, and to
have many good fellows and cunnying at the correcting of the
translacioun. A translator hath great nede to studie well the sense both
before and after, and then also he hath nede to live a clene life and be
full devout in preiers, and have not his wit occupied about worldli
things that the Holy Spyrit author of all wisdom and cunnynge and truthe
dresse him for his work and suffer him not to err." And he concludes
with the prayer, "God grant to us all grace to ken well and to kepe well
Holie Writ, and to suffer joiefulli some paine for it at the laste."
Like all the earlier English translations, Wycliffe's Bible was based on
the Latin Vulgate of St. Jerome; and this is the great defect in his
work, as compared with the versions that followed. He was not capable of
consulting the original Greek and Hebrew even if he had access to
them--in fact, there was probably no man in England at the time capable
of doing so; and therefore, though he represents the Latin faithfully
and well, he of course handed on its errors as faithfully as its
perfections. But, such as it is, it is a fine specimen of
fourteenth-century English. He translated not for scholars or for
nobles, but for the plain people, and his style was such as suited those
for whom he wrote--plain, vigorous, homely, and yet with all its
homeliness full of a solemn grace and dignity, which made men feel that
they were reading no ordinary book. He uses many striking expressions,
such as (II Tim. ii. 4): "No man holding knighthood to God, wlappith
himself with worldli nedes;" and many of the best-known phrases in our
present Bible originated with him; _e.g._, "the beame and the mote,"
"the depe thingis of God," "strait is the gate and narewe is the waye,"
"no but a man schall be born againe," "the cuppe of blessing which we
blessen," etc.
Here is a specimen from Wycliffe's Gospels:
In thilke dayes came Joon Baptist prechynge in the
desert of Jude, saying, Do ye penaunce: for the kyngdom
of heuens shall neigh. Forsothe this is he of whom
it is said by Ysaye the prophete, A voice of a cryinge in
desert, make ye redy the wayes of the Lord, make ye
rightful the pathes of hym. Forsothe that like Joon hadde
cloth of the beeris of cameylis and a girdil of skyn about
his leendis; sothely his mete weren locustis and hony of
the wode. Thanne Jerusalem wente out to hym, and al
Jude, and al the cuntre aboute Jordan, and thei weren
crystened of hym in in Jordon, knowlechynge there synnes.
It is somewhere recorded that at a meeting in Yorkshire recently a long
passage of Wycliffe's Bible was read, which was quite intelligible
throughout to those who heard.
It will be seen that this specimen (Matt. iii. 1-6) is not divided into
verses. Verse division belongs to a much later period, and, though
convenient for reference, it sometimes a good deal spoils the sense. The
division into chapters appears in Wycliffe's as in our own Bibles. This
chapter division had shortly before been made by a cardinal Hugo, for
the purpose of a Latin concordance, and its convenience brought it
quickly into use. But, like the verse division, it is often very badly
done, the object aimed at seeming to be uniformity of length rather than
any natural division of the subject. Sometimes a chapter breaks off in
the middle of a narrative or an argument, and, especially in St. Paul's
epistles, the incorrect division often becomes misleading. The removal
as far as possible of these divisions is one of the advantages of the
Revised Version to be noticed later on.
The book had a very wide circulation. While the Anglo-Saxon versions
were confined for the most part to the few religious houses where they
were written, Wycliffe's Bible, in spite of its disadvantage of being
only manuscript, was circulated largely through the kingdom; and, though
the cost a good deal restricted its possession to the wealthier classes,
those who could not hope to possess it gained access to it too, as well
through their own efforts as through the ministrations of Wycliffe's
"pore priestes." A considerable sum was paid for even a few sheets of
the manuscript, a load of hay was given for permission to read it for a
certain period one hour a day,[70] and those who could not afford even
such expenses adopted what means they could. It is touching to read such
incidents as that of one Alice Collins, sent for to the little
gatherings "to recite the Ten Commandments and parts of the epistles of
SS. Paul and Peter, which she knew by heart." "Certes," says old John
Foxe in his _Book of Martyrs_, "the zeal of those Christian days seems
much superior to this of our day, and to see the travail of them may
well shame our careless times."
But it was at a terrible risk such study was carried on. The appearance
of Wycliffe's Bible aroused at once fierce opposition. A bill was
brought into parliament to forbid the circulation of the Scriptures in
English; but the sturdy John of Gaunt vigorously asserted the right of
the people to have the Word of God in their own tongue; "for why," said
he, "are we to be the dross of the nations?" However, the rulers of the
Church grew more and more alarmed at the circulation of the book. At
length Archbishop Arundel, a zealous but not very learned prelate,
complained to the Pope of "that pestilent wretch, John Wycliffe, the son
of the old Serpent, the forerunner of Antichrist, who had completed his
iniquity by inventing a new translation of the Scriptures"; and, shortly
after, the Convocation of Canterbury forbade such translations, under
penalty of the major excommunication.
"God grant us," runs the prayer in the old Bible preface, "to ken and to
kepe well Holie Writ, and to suffer joiefulli some paine for it at the
laste." What a meaning that prayer must have gained when the readers of
the book were burned with the copies round their necks, when men and
women were executed for teaching their children the Lord's Prayer and
Ten Commandments in English, when husbands were made to witness against
their wives, and children forced to light the death-fires of their
parents, and possessors of the banned Wycliffe Bible were hunted down as
if they were wild beasts!
Thus did Wycliffe, in his effort for the spread of the Gospel of Peace,
bring, like his Master fourteen centuries before, "not peace, but a
sword." Every bold attempt to let in the light on long-standing darkness
seems to result first in a fierce opposition from the evil creatures
that delight in the darkness, and the weak creatures weakened by
dwelling in it so long. It is not till the driving back of the evil and
the strengthening of the weak, as the light gradually wins its way, that
the true results can be seen. It is, to use a simile of a graceful
modern writer,[71] "As when you raise with your staff an old flat stone,
with the grass forming a little hedge, as it were, around it as it lies.
Beneath it, what a revelation! Blades of grass flattened down,
colorless, matted together, as if they had been bleached and ironed;
hideous crawling things; black crickets with their long filaments
sticking out on all sides; motionless, slug-like creatures; young larvæ,
perhaps more horrible in their pulpy stillness than in the infernal
wriggle of maturity. But no sooner is the stone turned and the wholesome
light of day let in on this compressed and blinded community of creeping
things than all of them that have legs rush blindly about, butting
against each other and everything else in their way, and end in a
general stampede to underground retreats from the region poisoned by
sunshine. Next year you will find the grass growing fresh and green
where the stone lay--the ground-bird builds her nest where the beetle
had his hole--the dandelion and the buttercup are growing there, and the
broad fans of insect-angels open and shut over their golden disks as the
rhythmic waves of blissful consciousness pulsate through their glorified
being.
"The stone is ancient error, the grass is human nature borne down and
bleached of all its color by it, the shapes that are found beneath are
the crafty beings that thrive in the darkness, and the weak
organizations kept helpless by it. He who turns the stone is whosoever
puts the staff of truth to the old lying incubus, whether he do it with
a serious face or a laughing one. The next year stands for the coming
time. Then shall the nature which had lain blanched and broken rise in
its full stature and native lines in the sunshine. Then shall God's
minstrels build their nests in the hearts of a new-born humanity. Then
shall beauty--divinity taking outline and color--light upon the souls of
men as the butterfly, image of the beatified spirit rising from the
dust, soars from the shell that held a poor grub, which would never have
found wings unless that stone had been lifted."
THE SWISS WIN THEIR INDEPENDENCE
BATTLE OF SEMPACH
A.D. 1386-1389
F. Grenfell Baker
For two generations after the victory of the Swiss over the
Austrians at Morgarten (1315), which was followed by the
renewal of the Swiss Confederation of 1291, the leagued
cantons were favored with growth and internal development.
To the original cantons--Uri, Schwyz, and Unterwalden--were
added (1332-1353) Lucerne, Zurich, Glarus, Zug, and Bern.
The Confederation acknowledged no superior but the Emperor
of Germany.
In 1375 there was an irruption into Switzerland of a horde
of irregular soldiers under Enguerrand de Courcy, son-in-law
of Edward III of England. The mother of De Courcy was a
daughter of Leopold I, Duke of Austria, and through her De
Courcy claimed several Swiss towns. As the present Austrian
Duke, Leopold II, who held nominal suzerainty over
Switzerland, refused to give them up, De Courcy invaded
Swiss territory with a large force and a fury which at first
threw the country into panic. But at last the Swiss
recovered their old spirit of bravery, and in many severe
encounters they either killed or chased out of the country
the whole ruthless host of invaders.
This war is known in Swiss chronicles as the _Guglerkrieg_,
either from the pointed spikes on the helmets of the Swiss
soldiers or from the cowls which many of them wore. It is
also called the "English War," although De Courcy's men were
nearly all from the Continent and Wales.
The Swiss soon had need of their old military prowess, which
this defence of their country against foreign invaders had
freshly put to the proof. By the victory of Sempach, July 9,
1386, their independence was practically won, and by later
acts of valor and statesmanship they made it secure for many
years.
Austria's conduct soon began once more to disturb the Swiss, and to
threaten a renewal of hostilities. Her first act of importance was the
conquest of the Tyrol, after which, under pretence of benefiting the
pilgrims to Einsiedeln,[72] but in reality to separate Glarus from
Zurich, she built a bridge across the lake at Rapperschwyl. The
possession of this bridge by Austria acted as a perpetual hinderance to
Zurich's trade with the South, and was accordingly greatly resented by
the city. Austria's position, as ruler in so many burghs that, from
their situation and the nationality of their inhabitants, were
essentially Swiss, also acted as a never-ending source of trouble. Her
rule was both harsh and unjust, and, as a result, her local governors
were extremely unpopular. In 1386 the anti-Austrian feeling in
Switzerland had grown to such a pitch that popular outbreaks against her
authority were, in many centres, of frequent occurrence, and war
appeared inevitable.
From Lucerne came the final troubles that precipitated the country again
into a conflict with Austria. Previous to the actual declaration of war,
constant collisions in the neighborhood of Lucerne had for some time
past taken place, with all the horrors and savagery of war. In 1385 a
body of men from Lucerne attacked and demolished the castle town of
Rothenburg, the residence of an Austrian bailie. Next, both Entlibuch
and Sempach, at the instigation of Lucerne, revolted against her
Austrian rulers, expelled the bailies, and entered into alliances with
the city. Lucerne herself commenced extending her territories by the
purchase of Wiggis, and--contrary to her treaty stipulations--admitted a
number of Austrian subjects into the privileges of citizenship. Austria
retaliated by attacking Richensee, a small Lucerne town containing a
garrison of some two hundred soldiers. This she carried by assault and
destroyed, massacring the inhabitants of all ages and of both sexes.
Other reprisals on both sides followed in quick succession, in which
immense numbers of victims perished. Soon both the Duke, Leopold II, and
the Confederates were fully prepared, and the former took the field with
a large army. After menacing Zurich, the Duke, accompanied by many
nobles from Germany, France, and North Italy, headed some six thousand
picked men, and marched upon Lucerne. On his way he burned Willisau and
several smaller towns, where his troops committed every form of excess.
On July 9th a portion of his forces appeared before the walls of
Sempach, while another division menaced Zurich. At Sempach the
Confederates mustered to the help of Lucerne, but were only able to
bring about sixteen hundred men, taken chiefly from the Forest States.
In spite of their disparity in numbers, the Confederates determined to
risk an encounter.