Lady Jane/John Rogers/Lawrence Saunders/John Hooper/Rowland Taylor/William Hunter/Dr.Robert Farrer/Rawlins White/George Marsh/William Flower
The premature death of that celebrated young
monarch, Edward VI, occasioned the most extraordinary and wonderful
occurrences, which had ever existed from the times of our blessed Lord and
Savior's incarnation in human shape. This melancholy event became speedily a
subject of general regret. The succession to the British throne was soon made a
matter of contention; and the scenes, which ensued, were a demonstration of the
serious affliction in which the kingdom was involved. As his loss to the nation
was increasingly unfolded, the remembrance of his government was increasingly
the basis of grateful recollection. The very awful prospect, which was soon
presented to the friends of Edward's administration, under the direction of his
counselors and servants, was a contemplation which the reflecting mind was
compelled to regard with most alarming apprehensions. The rapid approaches,
which were made towards a total reversion of the proceedings of the young
king's reign, denoted the advances, which were thereby represented to an entire
resolution in the management of public affairs in both Church and state.
Alarmed for the condition in which the kingdom was
likely to be involved by the king's death, an endeavor to prevent the
consequences, which were but too plainly foreseen, was productive of the most
serious and fatal effects. The king, in his long and lingering affliction, was
induced to make a will, by which he bequeathed the English crown to Lady Jane,
the daughter of the duke of Suffolk, who had been married to Lord Guilford, the
son of the duke of Northumberland, and was the granddaughter of the second
sister of King Henry, by Charles, duke of Suffolk. By this will, the succession
of Mary and Elizabeth, his two sisters, was entirely superseded, from an apprehension
of the returning system of popery; and the king's council, with the chief of
the nobility, the lord-mayor of the city of London, and almost all the judges
and the principal lawyers of the realm, subscribed their names to this
regulation, as a sanction to the measure. Lord Chief Justice Hale, though a
true Protestant and an upright judge, alone declined to unite his name in favor
of the Lady Jane, because he had already signified his opinion that Mary was
entitled to assume the reins of government. Others objected to Mary's being
placed on the throne, because of their fears that she might marry a foreigner,
and thereby bring the crown into considerable danger. Her partiality to popery
also left little doubt on the minds of any, that she would be induced to revive
the dormant interests of the pope, and change the religion which had been used
both in the days of her father, King Henry, and in those of her brother Edward:
for in all his time she had manifested the greatest stubbornness and
inflexibility of temper, as must be obvious from her letter to the lords of the
council, whereby she put in her claim to the crown, on her brother's decease.
When this happened, the nobles, who had associated
to prevent Mary's succession, and had been instrumental in promoting, and,
perhaps, advising the measures of Edward, speedily proceeded to proclaim Lady
Jane Gray, to be queen of England, in the city of London and various other
populous cities of the realm. Though young, she possessed talents of a very
superior nature, and her improvements under an excellent tutor had given her
many very great advantages.
Her reign was of only five days' continuance, for
Mary, having succeeded by false promises in obtaining the crown, speedily
commenced the execution of her avowed intention of extirpating and burning
every Protestant. She was crowned at Westminster in the usual form, and her
elevation was the signal for the commencement of the bloody persecution, which
followed.
Having obtained the sword of authority, she was not
sparing in its exercise. The supporters of Lady Jane Gray were destined to feel
its force. The duke of Northumberland was the first who experienced her savage
resentment. Within a month after his confinement in the Tower, he was
condemned, and brought to the scaffold, to suffer as a traitor. From his varied
crimes, resulting out of a sordid and inordinate ambition, he died unpitied and
unlamented.
The changes, which followed with rapidity,
unequivocally declared that the queen was disaffected to the present state of
religion. Dr. Poynet was displaced to make room for Gardiner to be bishop of
Winchester, to whom she also gave the important office of lord-chancellor. Dr.
Ridley was dismissed from the see of London, and Bonne introduced. J. Story was
put out of the bishopric of Chichester, to admit Dr. Day. J. Hooper was sent
prisoner to the Fleet, and Dr. Heath put into the see of Worcestor. Miles
Coverdale was also excluded from Exeter, and Dr. Vesie placed in that diocese.
Dr. Tonstall was also promoted to the see of Durham. These things being marked
and perceived, great heaviness and discomfort grew increasingly to all good
men's hearts but to the wicked great rejoicing. They that could dissemble took
no great care how the matter went; but such, whose consciences were joined with
the truth, perceived already coals to be kindled, which after should be the
destruction of many, a true Christian.
The next victim was the amiable Lady Jane Gray, who,
by her acceptance of the crown at the earnest solicitations of her friends,
incurred the implacable resentment of the bloody Mary. When she first mounted
the scaffold, she spoke to the spectators in this manner: "Good people, I
am come hither to die, and by a law I am condemned to the same. The fact against
the queen's highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me: but,
touching the procurement and desire thereof by me, or on my behalf, I do wash
my hands thereof in innocence before God, and the face of you, good Christian
people, this day:" and therewith she wrung her hands, wherein she had her
book. Then said she, "I pray you all, good Christian people, to bear me
witness, that I die a good Christian woman, and that I do look to be saved by
no other mean, but only by the mercy of God in the blood of His only Son Jesus
Christ: and I confess that when I did know the Word of God, I neglected the
same, loved myself and the world, and therefore this plague and punishment is
happily and worthily happened unto me for my sins; and yet I thank God, that of
His goodness He hath thus given me a time and a respite to repent. And now,
good people, while I am alive, I pray you assist me with your prayers."
Then, kneeling down, she turned to Feckenham, saying, "Shall I say this
Psalm?" and he said, "Yea." Then she said the Psalm of Miserere
Mei Deus, in English, in a most devout manner throughout to the end; and then
she stood up, and gave her maid, Mrs. Ellen, her gloves and handkerchief, and
her book to Mr. Bruges; and then she untied he gown, and the executioner
pressed upon her to help her off with it: but she, desiring him to let her
alone, turned towards her two gentlewomen, who helped her off therewith, and
also with her neckerchief, giving to her a fair handkerchief to put about her
eyes.
Then the executioner kneeled down, and asked her
forgiveness, whom she forgave most willingly. Then he desired her to stand upon
the straw, which doing, she saw the block. Then she said, "I pray you,
dispatch me quickly." Then she kneeled down, saying, "Will you take
it off before I lay me down?" And the executioner said, "No,
madam." Then she tied a handkerchief about her eyes, and feeling for the
block, she said, "What shall I do? Where is it? Where is it?" One of
the standers-by guiding her thereunto, she laid her head upon the block, and
then stretched forth her body, and said, "Lord, into Thy hands I commend
my spirit;" and so finished her life, in the year of our Lord 1554, the
twelfth day of February, about the seventeenth year of her age.
Thus died Lady Jane; and on the same day Lord
Guilford, her husband, one of the duke of Northumberland's sons, was likewise
beheaded, two innocents in comparison with them that sat upon them. For they
were both very young, and ignorantly accepted that which others had contrived,
and by open proclamation consented to take from others, and give to them.
Touching the condemnation of this pious lady, it is
to be noted that Judge Morgan, who gave sentence against her, soon after he had
condemned her, fell mad, and in his raving cried out continually to have the
Lady Jane taken away from him, and so he ended his life.
On the twenty-first day of the same month, Henry,
duke of Suffolk, was beheaded on Tower-hill, the fourth day after his
condemnation: about which time many gentlemen and yeomen were condemned,
whereof some were executed at London, and some in the country. In the number of
whom was Lord Thomas Gray, brother to the said duke, being apprehended not long
after in North Wales, and executed for the same. Sir Nicholas Throgmorton,
also, very narrowly escaped.
John Rogers was educated at Cambridge, and was
afterward many years chaplain to the merchant adventurers at Antwerp in
Brabant. Here he met with the celebrated martyr William Tyndale, and Miles Coverdale,
both voluntary exiles from their country for their aversion to popish
superstition and idolatry. They were the instruments of his conversion; and he
united with them in that translation of the Bible into English, entitled
"The Translation of Thomas Matthew." From the Scriptures he knew that
unlawful vows may be lawfully broken; hence he married, and removed to
Wittenberg in Saxony, for the improvement of learning; and he there learned the
Dutch language, and received the charge of a congregation, which he faithfully
executed for many years. On King Edward's accession, he left Saxony to promote
the work of reformation in England; and, after some time, Nicholas Ridley, then
bishop of London gave him a prebend in St. Paul's Cathedral, and the dean and
chapter appointed him reader of the divinity lesson there. Here he continued
until Queen Mary's succession to the throne, when the Gospel and true religion
were banished, and the Antichrist of Rome, with his superstition and idolatry,
introduced.
The circumstance of Mr. Rogers having preached at
Paul's cross, after Queen Mary arrived at the Tower, has been already stated.
He confirmed in his sermon the true doctrine taught in King Edward's time, and
exhorted the people to beware of the pestilence of popery, idolatry, and
superstition. For this he was called to account, but so ably defended himself
that, for that time, he was dismissed. The proclamation of the queen, however,
to prohibit true preaching, gave his enemies a new handle against him. Hence, he
was again summoned before the council, and commanded to keep his house. He did
so, though he might have escaped; and though he perceived the state of the true
religion to be desperate. He knew he could not want a living in Germany; and he
could not forget a wife and ten children, and to seek means to succor them.
However, all these things were insufficient to induce him to depart, and, when
once called to answer in Christ's cause, he stoutly defended it, and hazarded
his life for that purpose.
After long imprisonment in his own house, the
restless Bonner, bishop of London, caused him to be committed to Newgate, there
to be lodged among thieves and murderers.
After Mr. Rogers had been long and straightly imprisoned, and lodged in
Newgate among thieves, often examined, and very uncharitably entreated, and at
length unjustly and most cruelly condemned by Stephen Gardiner, bishop of
Winchester, the fourth day of February, in the year of our Lord 1555, being
Monday in the morning, he was suddenly warned by the keeper of Newgate's wife,
to prepare himself for the fire; who, being then sound asleep, could scarce be
awaked. At length being raised and awaked, and bid to make haste, then said he,
"If it be so, I need not tie my points." And so was had down, first
to bishop Bonner to be degraded: which being done, he craved of Bonner but one
petition; and Bonner asked what that should be. Mr. Rogers replied that he
might speak a few words with his wife before his burning, but that could not be
obtained of him.
When the time came that he should be brought out of
Newgate to Smithfield, the place of his execution, Mr. Woodroofe, one of the
sheriffs, first came to Mr. Rogers, and asked him if he would revoke his
abominable doctrine, and the evil opinion of the Sacrament of the altar. Mr.
Rogers answered, "That which I have preached I will seal with my
blood." Then Mr. Woodroofe said, "Thou art an heretic."
"That shall be known," quoted Mr. Rogers, "at the Day of
Judgment." "Well," said Mr. Woodroofe, "I will never pray
for thee." "But I will pray for you," said Mr. Rogers; and so
was brought the same day, the fourth of February, by the sheriffs, towards
Smithfield, saying the Psalm Miserere by the way, all the people wonderfully
rejoicing at his constancy; with great praises and thanks to God for the same.
In addition, there in the presence of Mr. Rochester, comptroller of the queen's
household, Sir Richard South well, both the sheriffs, and a great number of
people, he was burnt to ashes, washing his hands in the flame as he was
burning.
A little
before his burning, his pardon was brought, if he would have recanted; but he
utterly refused it. He was the first martyr of all the blessed company that
suffered in Queen Mary's time that gave the first adventure upon the fire. His
wife and children, being eleven in number, ten able to go, and one sucking at
her breast, met him by the way, as he went towards Smithfield. This sorrowful
sight of his own flesh and blood could nothing move him, but that he constantly
and cheerfully took his death with wonderful patience, in the defense and
quarrel of the Gospel of Christ."
Mr. Saunders, after passing some time in the school
of Eaton, was chosen to go to King's College in Cambridge, where he continued
three years, and profited in knowledge and learning very much for that time.
Shortly after he quitted the university, and went to his parents, but soon
returned to Cambridge again to his study, where he began to add to the
knowledge of the Latin, the study of the Greek and Hebrew tongues, and gave
himself up to the study of the Holy Scriptures, the better to qualify himself
for the office of preacher.
In the beginning of King Edward's reign, when God's
true religion was introduced, after license obtained, he began to preach, and
was so well liked of them who then had authority that they appointed him to
read a divinity lecture in the College of Forthringham. The College of
Fothringham being dissolved he was placed to be a reader in the Minster at
Litchfield. After a certain space, he departed from Litchfield to a benefice in
Leicestershire, called Church-langton, where he held a residence, taught
diligently, and kept a liberal house. Thence he was orderly called to take a
benefice in the city of London, namely, All-hallows in Bread-street. After this
he preached at Northhampton, nothing meddling with the state, but boldly
uttering his conscience against the popish doctrines which were likely to
spring up again in England, as a just plague for the little love which the English
nation then bore to the blessed Word of God, which had been so plentifully
offered unto them.
The queen's parties who were there, and heard him,
were highly displeased with him for his sermon, and for it kept him among them
as a prisoner. But partly for love of his brethren and friends, who were chief
actors for the queen among them, and partly because there was no law broken by
his preaching, they dismissed him.
Some of his friends, perceiving such fearful
menacing, counseled him to fly out of the realm, which he refused to do.
However, seeing he was with violence kept from doing well in that place, he
returned towards London, to visit his flock.
In the afternoon of Sunday, October 15, 1554, as he
was reading in his church to exhort his people, the bishop of London
interrupted him, by sending an officer for him. His treason and sedition the
bishop's charity was content to let slip until another time, but a heretic he
meant to prove him, and all those, he said, who taught and believed that the administration
of the Sacraments, and all orders of the Church, are the most pure, which come
the nearest to the order of the primitive Church.
After much talk concerning this matter, the bishop
desired him to write what he believed of transubstantiation. Lawrence Saunders
did so, saying, "My Lord, you seek my blood, and you shall have it: I pray
God that you may be so baptized in it that you may ever after loathe
blood-sucking, and become a better man." Upon being closely charged with
contumacy, the severe replies of Mr. Saunders to the bishop (who had before, to
get the favor of Henry VIII written and set forth in print, a book of true
obedience, wherein he had openly declared Queen Mary to be a bastard) so
irritated him that he exclaimed, "Carry away this frenzied fool to
prison."
After this good and faithful martyr had been kept in
prison one year and a quarter, the bishops at length called him, as they did
his fellow-prisoners, openly to be examined before the queen's council. His
examination being ended, the officers led him out of the place, and stayed
until the rest of his fellow-prisoners were likewise examined, that they might
lead them all together to prison.
After his excommunication and delivery over to the
secular power, he was brought by the sheriff of London to the Compter, a prison
in his own parish of Bread-street, at which he rejoiced greatly, both because
he found there a fellow-prisoner, Mr. Cardmaker, with whom he had much
Christian and comfortable discourse; and because out of prison, as before in
his pulpit, he might have an opportunity of preaching to his parishioners. On
the fourth of February, Bonner, bishop of London, came to the prison to degrade
him; the day following, in the morning the sheriff of London delivered him to
certain of the queen's guard, who were appointed to carry him to the city of
Coventry, there to be burnt.
When they had arrived at Coventry, a poor shoemaker,
who used to serve him with shoes, came to him, and said, "O my good master,
God strengthen and comfort you." "Good shoemaker," Mr. Saunders
replied, "I desire thee to pray for me, for I am the most unfit man for
this high office, that ever was appointed to it; but my gracious God and dear
Father is able to make me strong enough." The next day, being 8 February
1555, he was led to the place of execution, in the park, without the city. He
went in an old gown and a shirt, barefooted, and oftentimes fell flat on the
ground, and prayed. When he was come to nigh the place, the officer, appointed
to see the execution done, said to Mr. Saunders that he was one of them who
marred the queen's realm, but if he would recant, there was pardon for him.
"Not I," replied the holy martyr, "but such as you have injured
the realm. The blessed Gospel of Christ is what I hold; that do I believe, that
have I taught, and that will I never revoke!" Mr. Saunders then slowly
moved towards the fire, sank to the earth and prayed; he then rose up, embraced
the stake, and frequently said, "Welcome, thou cross of Christ! Welcome
everlasting life!" Fire was then put to the fagots, and, he was
overwhelmed by the dreadful flames, and sweetly slept in the Lord Jesus.
John Hooper, student and graduate in the University
of Oxford, was stirred with such fervent desire to the love and knowledge of
the Scriptures that he was compelled to move from thence, and was retained in
the house of Sir Thomas Arundel, as his steward, until Sir Thomas had
intelligence of his opinions and religion, which he in no case did favor,
though he exceedingly favored his person and condition and wished to be his
friend. Mr. Hooper now prudently left Sir Thomas' house and arrived at Paris,
but in a short time returned to England, and was retained by Mr. Sentlow, until
the time that he was again molested and sought for, when he passed through
France to the higher parts of Germany; where, commencing acquaintance with
learned men, he was by them free and lovingly entertained, both at Basel, and
especially at Zurich, by Mr. Bullinger, who was his singular friend; here also
he married his wife, who was a Burgonian, and applied very studiously to the
Hebrew tongue.
At length, when God saw it good to stay the bloody
time of the six articles, and to give us King Edward to reign over this realm,
with some peace and rest unto the Church, amongst many other English exiles,
who then repaired homeward, Mr. Hooper also, moved in conscience, thought not
to absent himself, but seeing such a time and occasion, offered to help forward
the Lord's work, to the uttermost of his ability.
When Mr. Hooper had taken his farewell of Mr.
Bullinger, and his friends in Zurich, he repaired again to England in the reign
of King Edward VI, and coming to London, used continually to preach, most times
twice, or at least once a day.
In his sermons, according to his accustomed manner,
he corrected sin, and sharply inveighed against the iniquity of the world and
the corrupt abuses of the Church. The people in great flocks and companies
daily came to hear his voice, as the most melodious sound and tune of Orpheus'
harp, insomuch, that oftentimes when he was preaching, the church would be so
full that none could enter farther than the doors thereof. In his doctrine, he
was earnest, in tongue eloquent, in the Scriptures perfect, in pains
indefatigable, in his life exemplary.
Having preached before the king's majesty, he was
soon after made bishop of Gloucester. In that office, he continued two years,
and behaved himself so well that his very enemies could find no fault with him,
and after that, he was made bishop of Worcester.
Dr. Hooper executed the office of a most careful and
vigilant pastor, for the space of two years and more, as long as the state of
religion in King Edward's time was sound and flourishing. After he had been cited to appear before
Bonner and Dr. Heath, he was led to the Council, accused falsely of owing the
queen money, and in the next year, 1554, he wrote an account of his severe
treatment during near eighteen months' confinement in the Fleet, and after his
third examination, January 28, 1555, at St. Mary Overy's, he, with the Rev. Mr.
Rogers, was conducted to the Compter in Southwark, there to remain until the
next day at nine o'clock, to see whether they would recant. "Come, Brother
Rogers," said Dr. Hooper, "must we two take this matter first in
hand, and begin to fry in these fagots?" "Yes, Doctor," said Mr.
Rogers, "by God's grace." "Doubt not," said Dr. Hooper,
"but God will give us strength;" and the people so applauded their
constancy that they had much ado to pass.
January 29, Bishop Hooper was degraded and
condemned, and the Rev. Mr. Rogers was treated in like manner. At dark, Dr.
Hooper was led through the city to Newgate; notwithstanding this secrecy, many
people came forth to their doors with lights, and saluted him, praising God for
his constancy. During the few days he
was in Newgate, he was frequently visited by Bonner and others, but without
avail. As Christ was tempted, so they tempted him, and then maliciously
reported that he had recanted. The place of his martyrdom being fixed at
Gloucester, he rejoiced very much, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, and
praising God that he saw it good to send him among the people over whom he was
pastor, there to confirm with his death the truth which he had before taught
them.
On February 7, he came to Gloucester, about five
o'clock, and lodged at one Ingram's house. After his first sleep, he continued
in prayer until morning; and all the day, except a little time at his meals, and
when conversing such as the guard kindly permitted to speak to him, he spent in
prayer. Sir Anthony Kingston, at one time Dr. Hooper's good friend, was
appointed by the queen's letters to attend at his execution. As soon as he saw
the bishop, he burst into tears. With tender entreaties, he exhorted him to
live. "True it is," said the bishop, "that death is bitter, and
life is sweet; but alas! Consider that the death to come is more bitter, and
the life to come is more sweet."
The same day a blind boy obtained leave to be
brought into Dr. Hooper's presence. The same boy, not long before, had suffered
imprisonment at Gloucester for confessing the truth. "Ah! Poor boy,"
said the bishop, "though God hath taken from thee thy outward sight, for
what reason He best knoweth, yet He hath endued thy soul with the eye of
knowledge and of faith. God give thee grace continually to pray unto Him, that
thou lose not that sight, for then wouldst thou indeed be blind both in body
and soul."
When the mayor waited upon him preparatory to his
execution, he expressed his perfect obedience, and only requested that a quick
fire might terminate his torments. After he had got up in the morning, he
desired that no man should be suffered to come into the chamber, that he might
be solitary until the hour of execution.
About eight o'clock, on February 9, 1555, he was led
forth, and many thousand persons were collected, as it was market-day. All the
way, being straightly charged not to speak, and beholding the people, who
mourned bitterly for him, he would sometimes lift up his eyes towards heaven,
and look very cheerfully upon such as he knew: and he was never known, during
the time of his being among them, to look with so cheerful and ruddy a
countenance as he did at that time. When he came to the place appointed where
he should die, he smilingly beheld the stake and preparation made for him, who
was near unto the great elm tree over against the college of priests, where he
used to preach.
Now, after he had entered into prayer, a box was
brought and laid before him upon a stool, with his pardon from the queen, if he
would turn. At the sight whereof he cried, "If you love my soul, away with
it!" The box being taken away, Lord Chandois said, "Seeing there is
no remedy; dispatch him quickly."
Command was now given that the fire should be
kindled. But because there were not more green fagots than two horses could
carry, it kindled not speedily, and was a pretty while also before it took the reeds
upon the fagots. At length it burned about him, but the wind having full
strength at that place, and being a lowering cold morning, it blew the flame
from him, so that he was in a manner little more than touched by the fire.
Within a space after, a few dry fagots were brought,
and a new fire kindled with fagots, (for there were no more reeds) and those
burned at the nether parts, but had small power above, because of the wind,
saving that it burnt his hair and scorched his skin a little. In the time of
which fire, even as at the first flame, he prayed, saying mildly, and not very
loud, but as one without pain, "O Jesus, Son of David, have mercy upon me,
and receive my soul!" After the second fire was spent, he wiped both his
eyes with his hands, and beholding the people, he said with an indifferent,
loud voice, "For God's love, good people, let me have more fire!" and
all this while his nether parts did burn; but the fagots were so few that the
flame only singed his upper parts.
The third fire was kindled within a while after,
which was more extreme than the other two. In this fire, he prayed with a loud
voice, "Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me! Lord Jesus receive my
spirit!" And these were the last words he was heard to utter. But when he was
black in the mouth, and his tongue so swollen that he could not speak, yet his
lips went until they were shrunk to the gums: and he knocked his breast with
his hands until one of his arms fell off, and then knocked still with the
other, while the fat, water, and blood dropped out at his fingers' ends, until
by renewing the fire, his strength was gone, and his hand clave fast in
knocking to the iron upon his breast. Then immediately bowing forwards, he
yielded up his spirit. Thus was he three quarters of an hour or more in the
fire.
Even as a lamb, patiently he abode the extremity
thereof, neither moving forwards, backwards, nor to any side; but he died as
quietly as a child in his bed. And he now reigneth, I doubt not, as a blessed
martyr in the joys of heaven, prepared for the faithful in Christ before the
foundations of the world for whose constancy all Christians are bound to praise
God.
Dr. Rowland Taylor, vicar of Hadley, in Suffolk, was
a man of eminent learning, and had been admitted to the degree of doctor of the
civil and canon law. His attachment to the pure and uncorrupted principles of
Christianity recommended him to the favor and friendship of Dr. Cranmer,
archbishop of Canterbury, with whom he lived a considerable time, until through
his interest he obtained the living at Hadley.
Not only was his word a preaching unto them, but also all his life and
conversation was an example of unfeigned Christian life and true holiness. He
was void of all pride, humble and meek as any child; so that none were so poor
but they might boldly, as unto their father, resort unto him; neither was his
lowliness childish or fearful, but, as occasion, time, and place required, he
would be stout in rebuking the sinful and evildoers; so that none was so rich but
he would tell them plainly his fault, with such earnest and grave rebukes as
became a good curate and pastor. He was a man very mild, void of all rancor,
grudge or evil will; ready to do good to all men; readily forgiving his
enemies; and never sought to do evil to any.
To the poor that were blind, lame, sick, bedridden,
or that had many children, he was a very father, a careful patron, and diligent
provider, insomuch that he caused the parishioners to make a general provision
for them; and he himself (beside the continual relief that they always found at
his house) gave an honest portion yearly to the common alms box. His wife also
was an honest, discreet, and sober matron, and his children well nurtured,
brought up in the fear of God and good learning.
He was a good salt of the earth, savourly biting the
corrupt manners of evil men; a light in God's house, set upon a candlestick for
all good men to imitate and follow. Thus continued this good shepherd among his
flock, governing and leading them through the wilderness of this wicked world,
all the days of the most innocent and holy king of blessed memory, Edward VI.
But on his demise, and the succession of Queen Mary to the throne, he escaped
not the cloud that burst on so many beside; for two of his parishioners,
Foster, an attorney, and Clark, a tradesman, out of blind zeal, resolved that
Mass should be celebrated, in all its superstitious forms, in the parish church
of Hadley, on Monday before Easter. This Dr. Taylor, entering the church,
strictly forbade; but Clark forced the Doctor out of the church, celebrated
Mass, and immediately informed the lord-chancellor, bishop of Winchester of his
behavior, who summoned him to appear, and answer the complaints that were
alleged against him.
The doctor upon the receipt of the summons
cheerfully prepared to obey the same; and rejected the advice of his friends to
fly beyond sea. When Gardiner saw Dr. Taylor, he, according to his common
custom, reviled him. Dr. Taylor heard his abuse patiently, and when the bishop
said, "How darest thou look me in the face! knowest thou not who I
am?" Dr. Taylor replied, "You are Dr. Stephen Gardiner, bishop of
Winchester, and lord-chancellor, and yet but a mortal man. But if I should be
afraid of your lordly looks, why fear ye not God, the Lord of us all? With what
countenance will you appear before the judgment seat of Christ, and answer to
your oath made first unto King Henry VIII, and afterward unto King Edward VI,
his son?"
A long conversation ensued, in which Dr. Taylor was
so piously collected and severe upon his antagonist that he exclaimed:
"Thou art a blasphemous heretic! Thou indeed
blasphemist the blessed Sacrament, (here he put off his cap) and speakest
against the holy Mass, which is made a sacrifice for the quick and the
dead." The bishop afterward committed him into the King’s Bench.
When Dr. Taylor came there, he found the virtuous
and vigilant preacher of God's Word, Mr. Bradford; who equally thanked God that
He had provided him with such a comfortable fellow-prisoner; and they both
together praised God, and continued in prayer, reading and exhorting one
another. After Dr. Taylor had lain some time in prison, he was cited to appear
in the arches of Bow-church.
Dr. Taylor being condemned was committed to the Clink,
and the keepers were charged to treat him roughly; at night, he was removed to
the Poultry Compter. When Dr. Taylor had lain in the Compter about a week on 4
February, Bonner came to degrade him, bringing with him such ornaments as
appertained to the massing mummery; but the Doctor refused these trappings
until they were forced upon him.
The night after he was degraded his wife came with
John Hull, his servant, and his son Thomas, and were by the gentleness of the
keepers permitted to sup with him. After supper, walking up and down, he gave
God thanks for His grace that had given him strength to abide by His holy Word.
With tears, they prayed together, and kissed one another. Unto his son Thomas,
he gave a Latin book, containing the notable sayings of the old martyrs, and in
the end of that, he wrote his testament:
"I say to my wife, and to my children, The Lord
gave you unto me, and the Lord hath taken me from you, and you from me: blessed
be the name of the Lord! I believe that they are blessed which die in the Lord.
God careth for sparrows, and for the hairs of our heads. I have ever found Him
more faithful and favorable, than is any father or husband. Trust ye therefore
in Him by the means of our dear Savior Christ's merits: believe, love, fear,
and obey Him: pray to Him, for He hath promised to help. Count me not dead, for
I shall certainly live, and never die. I go before, and you shall follow after,
to our long home."
On the morrow, the sheriff of London with his officers
came to the Compter by two o'clock in the morning, and brought forth Dr.
Taylor; and without any light led him to the Woolsack, an inn without Aldgate.
Dr. Taylor's wife, suspecting that her husband should that night be carried
away, watched all night in St. Botolph's church-porch beside Aldgate, having
her two children, the one named Elizabeth, of thirteen years of age (whom,
being left without father or mother, Dr. Taylor had brought up of alms from
three years old), the other named Mary, Dr. Taylor's own daughter.
Now, when the sheriff and his company came against
St. Botolph's church, Elizabeth cried, saying, "O my dear father! Mother,
mother, here is my father led away." Then his wife cried, "Rowland,
Rowland, where art thou?"-For it was a very dark morning that the one
could not well, see the other. Dr. Taylor answered, "Dear wife, I am
here"; and stayed. The sheriff's men would have led him forth, but the
sheriff said, "Stay a little, masters, I pray you; and let him speak to
his wife"; and so they stayed.
Then came she to him, and he took his daughter Mary in his arms; and he,
his wife, and Elizabeth kneeled down and said the Lord's Prayer, at which sight
the sheriff wept apace, and so did divers others of the company. After they had
prayed, he rose up and kissed his wife, and shook her by the hand, and said,
"Farewell, my dear wife; be of good comfort, for I am quiet in my
conscience. God shall stir up a father for my children."
All the way Dr. Taylor was joyful and merry, as one
that counted himself going to a most pleasant banquet or bridal. He spake many
notable things to the sheriff and yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and
often moved them to weep, through his much earnest calling upon them to repent,
and to amend their evil and wicked living. Oftentimes also, he caused them to
wonder and rejoice, to see him so constant and steadfast, void of all fear,
joyful in heart, and glad to die.
When Dr. Taylor had arrived at Aldham Common, the
place where he should suffer, seeing a great multitude of people, he asked,
"What place is this, and what meaneth it that so much people are gathered
hither?" It was answered, "It is Aldham Common, the place where you
must suffer; and the people have come to look upon you." Then he said,
"Thanked be God, I am even at home"; and he alighted from his horse
and with both hands rent the hood from his head.
His head had been notched and clipped like as a man
would clip a fool's; which cost the good bishop Bonner had bestowed upon him.
But when the people saw his reverend and ancient face, with a long white beard,
they burst out with weeping tears, and cried, saying: "God save thee, good
Dr. Taylor! Jesus Christ strengthen thee, and help thee! The Holy Ghost comfort
thee!" with such other like good wishes.
When he had prayed, he went to the stake and kissed
it, and set himself into a pitch barrel, which they had put for him to stand
in, and stood with his back upright against the stake, with his hands folded
together, and his eyes towards heaven, and continually prayed.
They then bound him with the chains, and having set
up the fagots, one Warwick cruelly cast a fagot at him, which struck him on his
head, and cut his face, sot hat the blood ran down. Then said Dr. Taylor,
"O friend, I have harm enough; what needed that?"
Sir John Shelton standing by, as Dr. Taylor was
speaking, and saying the Psalm Miserere in English, struck him on the lips:
"You knave," he said, "speak Latin: I
will make thee." At last, they kindled the fire; and Dr. Taylor holding up
both his hands, calling upon God, and said, "Merciful Father of heaven!
For Jesus Christ, my Savior's sake, receive my soul into Thy hands!" So he
stood still without either crying or moving, with his hands folded together,
until Soyce, with a halberd struck him on the head until his brains fell out,
and the corpse fell down into the fire.
Thus rendered up this man of God his blessed soul
into the hands of his merciful Father, and to his most dear Savior Jesus
Christ, whom he most entirely loved, faithfully and earnestly preached,
obediently followed in living, and constantly glorified in death.
William Hunter had been trained to the doctrines of the Reformation from his earliest youth, being descended from religious parents, who carefully instructed him in the principles of true religion.
Hunter, then nineteen years of age, refusing to
receive the communion at Mass, was threatened to be brought before the bishop
to whom this valiant young martyr was conducted by a constable.
Bonner caused William to be brought into a chamber,
where he began to reason with him, promising him security and pardon if he
would recant. Nay, he would have been content if he would have gone only to
receive and to confession, but William would not do so for the entire world.
Upon this the bishop commanded his men to put
William in the stocks in his gate house, where he sat two days and nights, with
a crust of brown bread and a cup of water only, which he did not touch.
At the two days' end, the bishop came to him, and
finding him steadfast in the faith, sent him to the convict prison, and
commanded the keeper to lay irons upon him as many as he could bear. He
continued in prison three quarters of a year, during which time he had been
before the bishop five times, besides the time when he was condemned in the
consistory in St. Paul's, February 9, at which time his brother, Robert Hunter,
was present.
Then the bishop, calling William, asked him if he
would recant, and finding he was unchangeable, pronounced sentence upon him,
that he should go from that place to Newgate for a time, and thence to
Brentwood, there to be burned.
About a month afterward, William was sent down to
Brentwood, where he was to be executed. On coming to the stake, he knelt down
and read the Fifty-first Psalm, until he came to these words, "The
sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God,
Thou wilt not despise." Steadfast in refusing the queen's pardon, if he
would become an apostate, at length one Richard Ponde, a bailiff, came, and
made the chain fast about him.
William now cast his Psalter into his brother's
hand, who said, "William, think on the holy passion of Christ, and be not
afraid of death." "Behold," answered William, "I am not
afraid." Then he lifted up his hands to heaven, and said, "Lord,
Lord, Lord, receive my spirit;" and casting down he head again into the
smothering smoke, he yielded up his life for the truth, sealing it with his
blood to the praise of God.
This worthy and learned prelate, the bishop of St.
David's in Wales, having in the former reign, as well as since the accession of
Mary, been remarkably zealous in promoting the reformed doctrines, and
exploding the errors of popish idolatry, was summoned, among others, before the
persecuting bishop of Winchester, and other commissioners set apart for the
abominable work of devastation and massacre.
His principal accusers and persecutors, on a charge
of praemunire in the reign of Edward VI were George Constantine Walter, his
servant Thomas Young, chanter of the cathedral, afterward bishop of Bangor,
etc. Dr. Farrar ably replied to the copies of information laid against him,
consisting of fifty-six articles. The whole process of this trial was long and
tedious. Delay succeeded delay, and after that Dr. Farrar had been long
unjustly detained in custody under sureties, in the reign of King Edward,
because he had been promoted by the duke of Somerset, whence after his fall he
found fewer friends to support him against such as wanted his bishopric by the
coming in of Queen Mary, he was accused and examined not for any matter of
praemunire, but for his faith and doctrine; for which he was called before the
bishop of Winchester with Bishop Hooper, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Bradford, Mr.
Saunders, and others, February 4, 1555; on which day he would also with them
have been condemned, but his condemnation was deferred, and he sent to prison
again, where he continued until February 14, and then was sent into Wales to
receive sentence. He was six times brought up before Henry Morgan, bishop of
St. David's, who demanded if he would abjure; from which he zealously
dissented, and appealed to Cardinal Pole; notwithstanding which, the bishop,
proceeding in his rage, pronounced him a heretic excommunicate, and surrendered
him to the secular power.
Dr. Farrar, being condemned and degraded, was not
long after brought to the place of execution in the town of Carmathen, in the
market place of which, on the south side of the market-cross, March 30, 1555,
being Saturday next before Passion Sunday, he most constantly sustained the
torments of the fire.
Concerning his constancy, it is said that one
Richard Jones, a knight's son, coming to Dr. Farrar a little before his death,
seemed to lament the painfulness of the death he had to suffer; to whom the
bishop answered that if he saw him once stir in the pains of his burning, he
might then give no credit to his doctrine; and as he said, so did he maintain
his promise, patiently standing without emotion, until one Richard Gravell with
a staff struck him down.
Rawlins White was by his calling and occupation a
fisherman, living and continuing in the said trade for the space of twenty
years at least, in the town of Cardiff, where he bore a very good name amongst
his neighbors.
Though the good man was altogether unlearned, and
withal very simple, yet it pleased God to remove him from error and idolatry to
knowledge of the truth, through the blessed Reformation in Edward's reign. He
had his son taught to read English, and after the little boy could read pretty
well, his father every night after supper, summer and winter, made the boy read
a portion of the Holy Scriptures, and now and then a part of some other good
book.
When he had continued in his profession the space of
five years, King Edward died, upon whose decease Queen Mary succeeded and with
her, all kinds of superstition crept in. White was taken by the officers of the
town, as a man suspected of heresy, brought before the Bishop Llandaff, and
committed to prison in Chepstow, and at last removed to the castle of Cardiff,
where he continued for the space of one whole year. Being brought before the
bishop in his chapel, he counseled him by threats and promises. But as Rawlins
would in no wise recant his opinions, the bishop told him plainly that he must
proceed against him by law, and condemn him as a heretic.
Before they proceeded to this extremity, the bishop proposed
that prayer should be said for his conversion. "This," said White,
"is like a godly bishop, and if your request be godly and right, and you
pray as you ought, no doubt God will hear you; pray you, therefore, to your
God, and I will pray to my God." After the bishop and his party had done
praying, he asked Rawlins if he would now revoke. "You find," said
the latter, "your prayer is not granted, for I remain the same; and God
will strengthen me in support of this truth." After this, the bishop tried
what saying Mass would do; but Rawlins called all the people to witness that he
did not bow down to the host. Mass being ended, Rawlins was called for again;
to whom the bishop used many persuasions; but the blessed man continued so
steadfast in his former profession that the bishop's discourse was to no
purpose. The bishop now caused the definitive sentence to be read, which being
ended, Rawlins was carried again to Cardiff, to a loathsome prison in the town,
called Cockmarel, where he passed his time in prayer, and in the singing of
Psalms. In about three weeks, the order came from town for his execution.
When he came to the place, where his poor wife and
children stood weeping, the sudden sight of them so pierced his heart that the
tears trickled down his face. Being come to the altar of his sacrifice, in
going toward the stake, he fell down upon his knees, and kissed the ground; and
in rising again, a little earth sticking on his face, he said these words.
"Earth unto earth, and dust unto dust; thou art my mother, and unto thee I
shall return."
When all things were ready, directly over against
the stake, in the face of Rawlins White, there was a stand erected, whereon
stepped up a priest, addressing himself to the people, but, as he spoke of the
Romish doctrines of the Sacraments, Rawlins cried out, "Ah! Thou wicked
hypocrite; dost thou presume to prove thy false doctrine by Scripture? Look in
the text that followeth; did not Christ say, “Do this in remembrance of me?”
Then some that stood by cried out "Put fire!
Set on fire!" which being done, the straw and reeds cast up a great and
sudden flame. In which flame this good man bathed his hands so long, until such
time as the sinews shrank, and the fat dropped away, saving that once he did,
as it were, wipe his face with one of them. All this while, which was somewhat
long, he cried with a loud voice, "O Lord, receive my spirit!" until
he could not open his mouth. At last the extremity of the fire was so vehement
against his legs that they were consumed almost before the rest of his body was
hurt, which made the whole body fall over the chains into the fire sooner than
it would have done. Thus died this good old man for his testimony of God's
truth, and is now rewarded, no doubt, with the crown of eternal life.
George Marsh, born in the parish of Deane, in the
county of Lancaster, received a good education and trade from his parents;
about his twenty-fifth year he married, and lived, blessed with several children,
on his farm until his wife died. He then went to study at Cambridge, and became
the curate of Rev. Lawrence Saunders, in which duty he constantly and zealously
set forth the truth of God's Word, and the false doctrines of the modern
Antichrist.
Being confined by Dr. Coles, the bishop of Chester,
within the precincts of his own house, he was dept from any intercourse with
his friends during four months; his friends and mother, earnestly wished him to
have flown from "the wrath to come;" but Mr. Marsh thought that such
a step would ill agree with that profession he had during nine years openly
made. He, however, secreted himself, but he had much struggling, and in secret
prayer begged that God would direct him, through the advice of his best friends,
for his own glory and to what was best. At length, determined by a letter he
received, boldly to confess the faith of Christ, he took leave of his
mother-in-law and other friends, recommending his children to their care and
departed for Smethehills, whence he was, with others, conducted to Lathum, to
undergo examination before the earl of Derby, Sir William Nores, Mr. Sherburn,
the parson of Garpnal, and others. The various questions put to him he answered
with a good conscience, but when Mr. Sherburn interrogated him upon his belief
of the Sacrament of the altar, Mr. Marsh answered like a true Protestant that
the essence of the bread and wine was not at all changed, hence, after
receiving dreadful threats from some, and fair words from others, for his opinions,
he was remanded to ward, where he lay two nights without any bed.
On Palm Sunday, he underwent a second examination,
and Mr. Marsh much lamented that his fear should at all have induced him to
prevaricate and to seek his safety, as long as he did not openly deny Christ;
and he again cried more earnestly to God for strength that he might not be
overcome by the subtleties of those who strove to overrule the purity of his
faith. He underwent three examinations before Dr. Coles, who, finding him steadfast
in the Protestant faith, began to read his sentence; but he was interrupted by
the chancellor, who prayed the bishop to stay before it was too late. The
priest then prayed for Mr. Marsh, but the latter, upon being again solicited to
recant, said he durst not deny his Savior Christ, lest he lose His everlasting
mercy, and so obtain eternal death. The bishop then proceeded in the sentence.
He was committed to a dark dungeon, and lay deprived of the consolation of any
one (for all were afraid to relieve or communicate with him) until the day
appointed came that he should suffer. The sheriffs of the city, Amry and
Couper, with their officers, went to the north gate, and took out Mr. George
Marsh, who walked all the way with the Book in his hand, looking upon the same,
whence the people said, "This man does not go to his death as a thief, nor
as one that deserveth to die."
When he came to the place of execution without the
city, near Spittal-Boughton, Mr. Cawdry, deputy chamberlain of Chester, showed
Mr. Marsh a writing under a great seal, saying that it was a pardon for him if
he would recant. He answered that he would gladly accept the same did it not
tend to pluck him from God.
After that, he began to speak to the people showing
the cause of his death, and would have exhorted them to stick unto Christ, but
one of the sheriffs prevented him. Kneeling down, he then said his prayers, put
off his clothes unto his shirt, and was chained to the post, having a number of
fagots under him, and a thing made like a firkin, with pitch and tar in it,
over his head. The fire being unskillfully made, and the wind driving it in
eddies, he suffered great extremity, which notwithstanding he bore with
Christian fortitude.
When he had been a long time tormented in the fire
without moving, having his flesh so broiled and puffed up that they who stood
before him could not see the chain wherewith he was fastened, and therefore
supposed that he had been dead, suddenly he spread abroad his arms, saying,
"Father of heaven have mercy upon me!" and so yielded his spirit into
the hands of the Lord. Upon this, many of the people said he was a martyr, and
died gloriously patient. This caused the bishop shortly after to make a sermon
in the cathedral church, and therein he affirmed, that the said 'Marsh was a
heretic, burnt as such, and is a firebrand in hell.' Mr. Marsh suffered April
24, 1555.
William Flower, otherwise Branch, was born at
Snow-hill, in the county of Cambridge, where he went to school some years, and
then came to the abbey of Ely. After he had remained a while he became a
professed monk, was made a priest in the same house, and there celebrated and
sang Mass. After that, by reason of a visitation, and certain injunctions by
the authority of Henry VIII he took upon him the habit of a secular priest, and
returned to Snow-hill, where he was born, and taught children about half a
year.
He then went to Ludgate, in Suffolk, and served as a
secular priest about a quarter of a year; from thence to Stoniland; at length
to Tewksbury, where he married a wife, with whom he ever after faithfully and
honestly continued. After marriage, he resided at Tewksbury about two years,
and thence went to Brosley, where he practiced physic and surgery; but
departing from those parts, he came to London, and finally settled at Lambeth,
where he and his wife dwelt together. However, he was generally abroad,
excepting once or twice in a month, to visit and see his wife. Being at home
upon Easter Sunday morning, he came over the water lambent into St. Margaret's
Church at Westminster; when seeing a priest, named John Celtham, administering
and giving the Sacrament of the alter to the people, and being greatly offended
in his conscience with the priest for the same, he struck and wounded him upon
the head, and also upon the arm and hand, with his wood knife, the priest
having at the same time in his hand a chalice with the consecrated host
therein, which became sprinkled with blood.
Mr. Flower, for this injudicious zeal, was heavily ironed,
and put into the gatehouse at Westminster; and afterward summoned before bishop
Bonner and his ordinary, where the bishop, after he had sworn him upon a Book,
ministered articles and interrogatories to him.
After examination, the bishop began to exhort him to
return to the unity of his mother the Catholic Church, with many fair promises.
These Mr. Flower steadfastly rejecting, the bishop ordered him to appear in the
same place in the afternoon, and in the meantime to consider well his former
answer; but he, neither apologizing for having struck the priest, nor swerving
from his faith, the bishop assigned him the next day, April 20, to receive
sentence if he would not recant. The next morning, the bishop accordingly
proceeded to the sentence, condemning and excommunicating him for a heretic,
and after pronouncing him to be degraded, committed him to the secular power.
On April 24, St. Mark's eve, he was brought to the
place of martyrdom, in St. Margaret's churchyard, Westminster, where the fact
was committed: and there coming to the stake, he prayed to Almighty God, made a
confession of his faith, and forgave all the world.
This done, his hand was held up against the stake,
and struck off, his left hand being fastened behind him. Fire was then set to
him, and he burning therein, cried with a loud voice, "O Thou Son of God
receive my soul!" three times. His speech being now taken from him, he
spoke no more, but notwithstanding he lifted up the stump with his other arm as
long as he could.
Thus he endured the extremity of the fire, and was
cruelly tortured, for the few fagots that were brought being insufficient to
burn him they were compelled to strike him down into the fire, where lying
along upon the ground, his lower part was consumed in the fire, whilst his
upper part was little injured, his tongue moving in his mouth for a
considerable time.