Acts and Monuments Volume 2 Part 2

A tragical, lamentable, and pitiful History, full of most cruel and tyranicall Murder, done by the pretensed Catholics, upon three women and an Infant: to wit, the mother, her two daughters, and the child, in the Isle of Garnesey, for Christ's true Religion, the year of our Lord. 1556. July. 18.

A Mong all and singular Historyes touched in this Book before, as there be many pitiful, diverse lamentable, some Horrible and Tragicall: so is there none almost either in cruelty to be compared or so far of from all compassion and sense of humanity, as this merciless fact of the Papists, done in the Isle of Garnsey, upon three women and an infant, whose names be these as follow.

• Katherine Cawches. the Mother.
• Guillemine Gilbert. the daughter.
• Perotine Massey. the other daugther.
• An Infant. the son of Perotine.

But before I come to the purpose of this story, it shall be necessary, for the better explayning of the matter, to begin first with the circumstances, whereupon the first Original and occasion did rise of this tragical cruelty. The case was this.

The xxvij. day of May. an. 1556. in the Isle of Garnsey, which is a member of England, in a town there called S. Peters port, was a noughty woman named Uincent Gosset, who being evil disposed, went (the day aforesaid) to the house of one Nicholas le Conronney, dwelling in the town of the said S. Peters Porte, about ten of the clock at night, and there taking the key of the house (lying under the door) entered into a Chamber toward the street, where she espying a Cup of Silver within a Cupboard, took it away, and so conveyed her self out of y ^e house again. Who immediately after this fact done (whether by counsel or by what occasiō else, I have not to say) brought the said Cup to one Perotine Massey, an honest woman, dwelling in the said town, desiring her to lend her vi.d. upon the same.

Perotine seeing the cup or goblet, & suspecting (as truth was) the same to be stolen, answered that she would not take it: yet nevertheless having knowledge of the owner theerof, took it, to restore it again to whom it did apperteyn, and to the end she should not carry it to another, gave her thē presently vi. d. Where moreover is to be noted, that Thomas Effart saith and testifieth, that knowledge was given by the said Perotine to Conronney touching the stealing of his piece, who eftsoons vpō the misliking thereof attached the said Uincent Gosset, of the trespass. Who being apprehended and examined upon the same, immediately confessed the fact, desiring to have one sent with her (which was Collas de Loutre) with vi. d. to fetch again the goblet, where it was: And so did.

The next day following, the kings officers being informed of the premises by one Nicolas Cary of the said town Constable, assembled the Justices there to inquire and examine further, as well upon that fact of Uincent Gosset, as upon other griefs and things there amiss. So that after declaration made by the officers and Constable before the Justice, for that the said Constable did report to have found certain vessel of Pewter in the house of the foresaid Perotine Massey (who then dwelt with her mother Katherine Cauches, & her Sister Guillemine Guilbert) the which vessel did bear no mark, and especially for that there was a Peuter dishe, whereof the name was scraped out, their bodies upon the same were attached, & put in prison, & their movable goods taken by inuētory. Within a few days after these things this done & past, these 3. seely women abiding thus in durance in the castle, made their supplication to the Justices to have justice ministered unto them, videlicet: If they had offended the law, then to let them have the law: if not, beseeching to grant them the benefit of Subjects. &c. Which supplication put up, thereupon were they appointed to come to their answer the fifth day of June, in the year aforesaid. Uppon which day, after straight examining of the matter, and the honest answering of the cause by the said good woman, at the last they submitted them to the report of their neighbors, that they were no thieves, nor evil disposed persons, but lived truly and honestly, as became Christian women to do, the false and untrue report of their accusers notwithstanding.

So the cause being thus debated, after the inquirye made by the kings Officers, they were found by their said neighbors not guilty of that they were charged with, but had lived always as honest women among them: saving only that to the commandments of holy church, they had not been obedient. &c. Upon this trial, & verdit of the neighbors, it was in fine adjudged, first that the said Uincent Gosset, being atteinted of fellonye and condemned for the same should be whipped, and after her ear being nailed to the pillory, should so be banished out of the Isle without further punishment. And as touching the other three women, the Mother with her two daughters, for their not coming to the Church, they were returned prisoners again into the Castle the first of July. And thus far concerning the true discourse of this matter, with all the circumstances and appurtenaunce of the same in every point as the case stood, according to the faithful tenor and testimony of the Garnesey men written with their own hands both in French and English tongue. Wherein you see what false surmised matter was pretended against these women, and nothing proved, and howe by the attestation of their neighbors they were fully clered of that fact, and should by the temporal Courte have been dismissed, had not the spiritual Clergy men picking matter of religion against them, exercised such extremitye in persecuting these miserable prisoners, that in no case they could escape their bloody hands, till at length they had brought them (as you shall hear) to their final ende. For after the time of this declaration above mentioned made by the neighbors, whereby they were purged of all other things, & being then known of their not coming to the Church, the Bailiefes Lieutenaunt and the Justice, thinking the matter not to pertain to them, but to the Clergy, forthwith wrote their letters or Mandate under their signs to the dean, whose name was Iaques Amy, and Curates of the said Isle: The contents whereof here followeth.

Defense of this Garnesey story against M. Harding.

ANd thus have you the true narration of this History, discoursed without corrupting or falsifying any parte or sentence thereof, no less faithfully of my part reported, then I received them, who dwelling in the same Isle, and being present the same time, were best acquainted with the matter, and have given sufficient evidence, not only to me, but also to the Queens highness Commissioners, concerning the same, as both by the letter of the Bailiff, by the sentence of the Dean, by the suplication of the playnetife, and submission of the parties, and likewise by the Queens Pardon granted unto them, may well appear.

By all which proofs and circumstances thus debated, it remaineth manifest for all men to perceive, what cruelty, and wrong was wrought against these poor women above specified, and no less matter offered, in a case so unjust, justly to expostulate, or rather to wonder at the hard hearts of these men, but especially of the catholic Clergy of Garnesey, who professing the Gospel of peace & charity, should after the example of Christ, walk in the steppes of meekness, and mercy, and yet contrary, not only to all Christian charity and mansuetude, but also against all order of equity, or humanity, were so extreme and rigorous, to condemn them to the burning fire, under the pretensed color of heresy. Who if they had been heretics in deed, yet mercy would have corrected the error, and save life, equity would have considered man's weak fragility at least true justice would have heard both the parties advisedly, & also substancially have surueyed the cause, and not to • ash out the sentence of death so hastily, as they did: yea, and though they had been heretics in deed, yet true Christian charity would have stretched farther, and at least to have given them leisure, and respite of time, to reclayme themselves. But now what is here to be said, they being no heretics at all, as neither it could then, nor yet can be proved? For if king Edward's Religion (which was objected to them) were heresy, yet were they then no heretics, when they revoked the same: and if Queen Mary's Religion were heresy, then were they much more heretics themselves, which condemned them of heresy.

But most of all we have herein to wonder at Mayster Harding, who in his late reioynder, written against the Bishop of Salisbury, notwithstanding all these euidēces, and demonstrations so certain, & manifestly appearing, yet goeth about, first to deny the story, terming it to be a fable, and afterward being forced to fly a statu inficiali, and to admit the story, he removeth ad translationem criminis, & there seeking, by all means, to clear the Clergy frō the spot of cruelty, trasferreth the whole blame only, vpō the womē that suffered, but principally upon poor Perotine: whom he specially charged with two capital crimes, to wit, whoredom, and murder.

And first, touching his accusatiō of whoredom, let us hear, how he proveth this matter. Because (saith he) by story it is granted, that she was with child: and yet the Historiographer doth not declare (neither durst for shame) who was her husband, or father to the child. &c. As though that Historiographers being occupied in setting forth the persecutiō of God's people, suffering death for religion, and doctrine of Christ, were bound, or had nothing else to do, but to play the sumner, and to bring forth, who were husbands to the wives, and fathers to their children: which newfoūd law of history being never required before, nor observed of any Storye writers, if M. H. now shall exact of me, first let him begin with himself, and show us (as wise as he is) who was his own father, if he can. And yet I think not contrary, but his mother was an honest woman. And no less do I think also of this Perotine aforesaid, whereof more shall be said (God willing) hereafter.

But in the mean time here cometh in the cavilling objection of M. H. and beareth the Reader in hand, as though for shame I durst not, or of purpose would not express it. &c. My answer whereunto is this. First to express every minute of matter in every story occurrent, what Story writer in all the world is able to perform it? Secondly although it might be done, what reasonable reader would require it? Thirdly, & albeit some curious readers would so require, yet I suppose it neither requisite, nor convenient to be observed. And fourthly, what if it were not remembered of the author? What if it were to him not known? what if it were of purpose omitted as a matter not material to the purpose? Many other causes besides might incur, which the reader knoweth not of. And shall it thē by and by be imputed to shame and blame, whatsoever in every narration is not expressed? or doth M.H. himself in all his sermons never pretermit anything, that conveniently might be inferred? Who was the husband of this Perotine, the Historiographer hath not expressed: I grant, & what thereof? Ergo thereupon concludeth he, that for shame I durst not. Nay I may marvel rather y ^t he durst for shame utter such vntydy Arguments, or so asseuerantly to pronounce of another man's mind and purpose, which is as privy to him, as then it was to me unknown what was her husbands name. And though it had been known, what was that material in the story to be uttered? or what had it relieved the cruel partes of them, which burned both the mother & infant together, though the infantes father had been expressed? And howe then did I for shame conceal that, which was not in my knowledge at that time (if I would) to express, nor in my suspicion to misdeeme?

Neuertheles if he be so greatly desirous (as he pretendeth) to know of me, who was this infantes father, I will not stick with M. H. although I cannot swear for the matter, yet to take so much pain for his pleasure, to go as near it as I may. For precisely & determinately to point out the right father either of this, or of any child: I trow, neither will M.H. require it of me, neither is he able peradventure himself being asked, to demonstrate his own. And yet as much as I may, to sa • isfy his dainty desire here in, and partly to help the innocence of the woman, touching this demand, who should be the infantes father, who, say I, but his own mothers husband? the name of which husband was David Iores, a minister, and married to the said Perotine in king Edward's time, in the Church of our Ladies Castle Parishe at Garnesey: the party which married them being called M. Noel Regnet a French mā, and yet alive, witness hereunto, and now dwelling in london in S. Martins Le grande.

Thus thue, after my knowledge, I have shown forth, for M.H. pleasure the right husband of this Perotine, and what was his name, who was also alive, his wife being great with child, & partaker of the persecution of the same time, & a scholemayster, afterward in Normandy. &c Now if M. H. can take any such advantage hereof to disprove that I have said: or be so privy to the begetting of this child, that he can prove the said David Iores, which was the right husband to this wife, not to be the right father to this infant, let him show herein his cunning, by what mighty demonstrations he can induce us to deem the contrary, & as I shall see his reasons, I shall shape him an answer, in such sort (I trust) that he shall well perceive, that whoredom, wheresoever I may know it, shall find no bolstering by me, I wish it might find as little amongst the chaste Catholics of M.H. Church.

From this I proceed now to the second part of his infamous accusation, wherein he chargeth her of murder. A strange case, that she which was murdered her self, with her child, and died before him, should yet be accused to murder the child. Murder doubtless is an horrible iniquity in any person. But the mother to be the murderer of her own infant, it is a double abomination, and more then a monster, so far disagreeing from all nature, that it is not lightly to be surmised of any, without vehement causes of manifest probation.

Wherefore, to try out this matter more thoroughly touching this murthering mother, let us see. First, what hand did she lay upon the child? None. What weapon used she? None. Did she then drown it, or cast it in some pond, as we read of the strompets at Rome, whose childrens heads were taken up in Pope Gregory's mote, by hundreds, what time Priests began first to be restrained of lawful wedlock: witness the epistle of Volusianus. pag. 1129. or else did she throw it by the walls into some privy corner, as I am credibly certified, that in the 8. year of Q. Elizabeth, certain scalpes & other young infantes bones were found and taken out with a stick in the hole of a stone wall in Lenton Abbay, by certain Gentlemen within the Coūtry of Nottingham, James Barusse, Richard Loueyt, & W. Louelace walking in the Prior chamber: witness the said W. Louelace, with other which saw the bones aforesaid? Or otherwise did she take any hurtful drink to importonate the child within her, as commonly it is reported, few Nu •• eries to have been in England, wherein such a tree hath not been growing within their ground, meet for practicing of such a purpose? Neither so, nor so. What then? did she purposely and wittingly thrust herself in jeopardy, to the destruction of her child, whē she needed not, as Pope Joan, when she might have kept her bed, would needs adventure forth in procession, where both she her self, and her infant perished in the open street?

Well thē, thus much by this hitherto alleged & granted, we have got̄ this woman here to be accused of murdering her child, which neither laid hand upon it, nor used weapō against it: neither used any other practice in drowning, hanging, breaking, burying, poisoning, or any other willful means, whereby to destroy it. And how then? by what manner of way was this woman a murderer of her young babe? Forsooth: (saith M. H) when she was accused and condemned to be burned, she did not claim the benefit of her belly, whereby the life both of her self for the time might have been delayed, and the child preserved.

Whether she did or no, I have not perfectly to say: no more, I ween, hath M.H. Howbeit this is certain, and by witness known, that she uttered no less to her ghostly father in confession. And what if she had opened the same unto the Judges? They would (saith he) have spared her life for the time, and so the innocent had been preserved. And how is M.H. sure of this, more then was the life spared of the young Lady, & mistress sometime of M. H. who suffered, notwithstanding she was reported of some to be with child? Because the law (saith he) is beneficial to women in her case, claiming the benefit thereof.

The law so giveth, I grant. But it followeth not therefore, whatsoever the law giveth or prescribeth, the same to be put by and by in execution. But many times the law goeth as it pleseth them which have the handling of the law. As for example, the law willeth none to be condemned by sentence of death, for heresy, which the first time revoke their opinion, and yet contrary to this law they condemned her unlawfully. Agayne, the like law prescribeth, none to be executed for heresy, before the writ be sent down de cōburendo, and yet contrary to this law, without any such writ (as far as I yet understand) they burned her moste cruelly. And what law then was here to be looked for of these men, who in their doings herein seemed, neither to observe law, nor to regard honesty, nor much to pass for charity? And albeit she had claimed never so much the privilege of the law, what had that auayled with those men, whose hunting altogether (as by their proceedings may appear) seemeth to be for the household goods of these women, which after their death immediately they incroched in to their own hands.

But be it admitted, that neither she demanded this benefit of the law, nor that the Judges would ever have denied her, if she had so done: yet had it been the parte of a grave accuser, before he had been descended into such a ra • ling action of murder against a poor woman now dead & gone, first to have advised wisely with himself, whether it might be, that she had no such intelligence what benefit the law would have givē, in case it had been required. For not unlike it is, and well may be thought rather yea, then no, that the simple woman, brought up all her life long in her mothers house in an obscure Iseland, & in such an outcorner of the realm, far of from the Courte, and practice of English laws, never heard before of any such benefit of the law: and therefore upon mere simplicity, & for lack of skil required it not, because she knew not what to require. Peradventure also her senses might be so astonied with the greatness and sodennesse of the fear, that it was out of her remembrance. Certes, it had been the duty of the Judges, which knew the law, & having the woman before them could not be ignorant of her case, to have questioned with her thereof, and to have holpen her simplicity in that behalf. Or at least, if they had disdained, yet it had been the Priests parte, who was her Ghostly Father, and made privy thereunto, either to have instructed her, or to have stayed the executiō of her death, for sauegard of the child.

But all this denieth M.H. and to aggravate the matter, inferreth, that she, not of any simple unskillfulness of the law, but only of mere willfulness, for avoiding of worldly shame, concealed her own turpitude, and so became a murderer of her babe. &c. These be the words of M. H. written by him not of any sure ground, but only upon his catholic conjecture: for other demonstration certeinely to prove this true, he bringeth none. Wherefore to answer conjecture by conjecture, thus I reply to him again, that in case she had been asked the questiō of the Judges and Inquisitors, whether she had been with child, and then had denied the same: or else if she, by any other colorable means, had cloaked her being with child, whereby it should not appear, this accuser might have some probable advantage against the woman. Now, as she was never demanded of their partes any such question, nor did ever deny any such matter: so to answer this man w ^t as good probability, I hold, that in case they had inquired that matter of her, she would never have denied it. And therefore whereas she is accused for her not uttering of her child: why may she not, by as good reason again be defended for not denying the same.

But she should have uttered it, saith he. It had been well done: say I. And I would she had, but yet that is not the question between him and me, what she should have done, but why she did it not. M. Harding wandering in his blind surmises, phantasieth the cause only to be, for hiding her dishonesty, & for that she would not shame the Gospel. So that in Summa, to this effect tendeth all his accusation.

Perotine being big with child at her condemnation did not show it to the Judges.

Ergo, she did not conceal her turpitude, and because she would not shame the Gospel.

But here this accuser must understand, if he have not forgotte his Logike, that such arguments which do truly hold, a Signis, do always presuppose, that the signs which go before the things signified, must be necessary, perpetual and firm, as is between causes natural & their effects. Otherwise if the signs be doubtful, voluntary, or accidental, there is no firm consequent can proceed thereof.

Now, if the said accuser should be put to his proof, how to justify this his sequel to be true by evident demonstration: that she did it only for covering her dishonesty: I suppose verily he should be found to say more, then he is able to make good, and in conclusion should be brought into the like case, as were the Pharisees, who coming to accuse the adulteress before christ, went away mute, with as much shame out of the temple, as the woman her self came in, having not one word to answer. For a man to pronounce assuredly upon the secret cogitation and intent either of man or womā, farther thē by utterance of speech is to him signified, passeth his capacity and is to be left only to him, which is serutans corda & renes Deus.

But for so much as M.H. worketh (as I said) by surmises, construing everything to the worst, let us see what may be surmised as much again to the contrary, concerning the quallitie of this surmised murder. Wherein diverse things are to be considered, as hereunder followeth.

The first conjecture is this, that such manner of womē which for worldly shame are disposed to murder their children, have other ways to compass that wickedness, then by silence keeping. Now, as touching this Perotine going to be burned, neither could this silence save her if she would, from • ordly shame, neither is it to be thought any such intent ever to be in her, to murder her child: as might well appear in her mothers house, where if she might have continued her whole time out she intended no less but honestly to be brought to bed, and to nurse up her child, neither caring for shame of the world, nor fearing any slander to the Gospel. Whereby may be argued, that no such intent of murder was ever in her thought.

For how is it like that she, which had gone so longe with child, almost to the full time of her deliverance, & never thought, nor wrought any hurt to the infant all that while, should now going to her own death, mind more hurt to her child, then she did before, hopyng her self to live?

Secondly, how knoweth M.H. to the contrary, but that she was known in the town to be with child, and went boldly abroad without note of any shame, before y ^e time she came in trouble? Which being true, shame then could be no cause, why she should conceal her child more now after her condemnation, then she did before she was condemned.

Thirdly, admit the case it was not known before, what advantage thereby should rise to her, being now appointed to die, by concealing her being with child. She should have eschued (saith M.H.) the public shame and obloquy of the world, in that none should have known her to be with child. First, what shame was it for a married wife to be noted to be with child? Agayne, what gain had that been to her, to avoid the shame and fame of the world, which had not to live in the world, being now condemned to die?

Fourthly, how is it like, that for shame she meant to conceal that from the world, which both knew she should not live in the world, and also suffer that kind of death whereby her child could not be hidden from the sight of y ^e world, though she had gone about herself never so much to conceal it?

Fifthly, how is it to be thought, that any woman, going to such a sharp punishment of fire to be consumed, would let for any worldly shame, to reschue her own life from so bitter torment, at least so long as she might, beside the safeguard also of her child, if by any means she had known any remedy?

Sixthly, for so much as M. Harding doth so haynouslye charge her with the willful murdering of her own natural child: let all indifferente consciences this consider with themselves, what was the cause that moved her so willingly to recant as she did, but partly to save her own life, and especially the poor innocent? Whereby it is manifest to be understanded, what a motherly affection she had to save her infant, if the fathers of the spiritualty had not been so cruel, against all order of law to cast both her and her child away, all this her said recantation not withstanding.

Seventhly and lastly, when M.H. hath inueyed all that ever he can against this poor Perotine, yet is all the same but a by matter from this principal purpose pretended, supposing thereby through his depraving of her, to justify and excuse the Pope holy Clergy, which wrought her death. Which will not be. For whatsoever her life was besides, yet for so much as y ^e cause of her death & condemnation, was neither for their, whoredom, nor murder but only and merely for Religion, which deserved no death: I therefore having in my story no further to deal as I said before, so do I say again, that the cause of her condemning was wrongfully, her death was cruel, the sight of the babe was ruefull, the proceeding of the Judges was unlawful, the whole story is pitiful, and of all this the priests and Clergye were the authors principal. All which being considered, and well expended, M.H. I trust may stand sufficiently contented. Or if he think murder to be a thing, which ought not (as it ought not in deed) lightly to be passed over, let him then find out murder where it is, and tell us truly without affection of partiality, where the true murder lieth: whether in the poor woman, which together with her child was murdered, or in them which without all law and conscience, brought them both to death?

Briefly and finally to conclude with this man, whatsoever the woman was, she is now gone. To bite so bitterly against the dead it is little honesty. And though the accusation had in it some truth, yet this accusatiō here needed not. Now the same being false, it is to much unmerciful. At least being doubtful and to him unknown, charytie would have judged the best. Humanity would have spared the dead. And if he could not foorde her his good word: yet he might have left her cause unto the Lord, which shall judge both her and him. To pray for the dead he findeth in his Mass, but to backbite the dead, he neither findeth in his Mass, Matins, nor Evensong. And no doubt but in his Dirige & commendations he commondeth many one, less deserving to be commonded then this woman, let Catholic affection be set aside. And though the merits of her cause deserved not his commendations yet did she never deserve at M. Hardinges hands to give her such a Kyrieleson (as they say) after her departure. Cruelty she suffered enough alive, though M. H. had not added this cruel invective to her former afflictions: wherein notwithstanding he hurteth not her but hurtethe peradventure himself, neither so much destaineth her honesty, as he blemisheth his own. It hath been the manner of learned men in time past, with their defending oration, ever to be more ready, then to accuse. And if they did at any time accuse: yet never but enforced, neither did they accuse any but such only as were alive, and that neither but in such matters, wherein either the common wealth, or themselves were vehemently touched.

Now if this grieve him so greatly, that in my story I have termed her to be a martyr: let him consider the cause wherefor she suffered, which was neither for felony, murder, nor whoredom, but only for the religion in K. Edward's time received: and when he hath confuted that religion, I shall cross her out of the book and fellowship of Martyrs. In the mean time my exhortation shall be this to M. Harding.

First, that if he will needs become a writer in these so furious and outrageous days of ours, he will season his vein of writing with more mildenes and charity, & not to give such example of railing to others.

Secondly, that he will moderate his judging & condemning of other with more equity and indifferency, and not to be so rash and partial. For if she be to be accounted a murderer, which so carefully went about by recantation to save both her self and her child from the fire: what is to be said of them which condemned her so cruelly, and caused both her and the infant to be burned, notwithstanding that she for safeguard of their lives had (as I said) recanted. And yet so partial is he, that in all this invective crying out so intemperately against the woman and the child that were burned, he speaketh never a word of their condemners and true murderers in deed.

Thirdly, for so much as M. Harding is here in hand with infantacide: and with casting away young children's lives, I would wish, that as he hath sisted the doings of this woman to the uttermost, who was rather murdered then a murderer: so he would with an indifferent eye look on the other side a little upon them of his own Clergy, and see what he could find there amongst those willful contemners of immaculate marriage. Not that I do accuse any of incontinency, whose lives I know not but there is one above, that well knoweth and seeth all things, be they never so secret to man, and most certainly will pay home at length with fire and brimstone when he seeth his time.

I say no more, and not so much as I might, following herein the Paynters, which when their colors will not serve to express a thing that they mean, they shadow it with a veil. But howsoever the matter goeth with them whether they may or may not be suspected touching this crime aforesaid of infantacide, most sure and manifest it is that they are more then worthily to be accused of homicide in murdering the children and servants of God, both men and women, wines and maids, old & young, blind and • ame, mad and vnmadde, discreet and simple innocents, learned with the unlearned, and that of all degrees from the high Archbishop to the Clark and Sexten of the church, and that most wrongfully and willfully, with such effusion of innocent Christian blood, as crieth up daily to God for vengeance.

And therefore M.H. in my mind should do well, to spare a little time from these his invectives wherewith he appeacheth the poor protestants of murder, whom they have murdered themselves, and exercise his pen with some more fruitful matter, to exhort these spiritual Fathers first to cease from murdering of their own children to spare the blood of innocents, & not to persecute Christ so cruelly in his members, as they do, and furthermore to exhort in like manner these Agamistes, and willful reiecters of matrimony, to take themselves to lawful wives, and not to resist God's holy ordinance, nor encounter his institution with another contrary institution of their own devising, lest perhaps they prevented by fragility, may fall into danger of such inconveniences above touched: which if they be not in thē, I shall be glad: but if they be, it is neither their railing against y ^e poor protestants, nor yet their secret auricular confession, that shall cover their iniquities from the face of the Lord, when he shall come to reveal abscondita tenebrarum, & iudicare saeculum per ignem.

And thus for lack of further lays • re, I end with M. H. having no more at this time to • ay unto him, but wish him to fear God, to embrace his truth, to remember himself, and to surcease from this uncharitable railing and brawling, especially against the dead which cannot answer him, or if he will needs continue still to be such a vehement accuser of other, yet that he will remember what belongeth to the part of a right accuser: First, that his accusation be true: secondly that no blind affection of partialiti • be mixed withal: thirdly, whosoever taketh upon them to carpe and appeache the crimes of other, ought themselves to be sincere and upright, and to see what may be written in their own foreheads.

Whoredom and murder be grievous offenses, and worthy to be accused. But to accuse of murder the parties that were murdered, and to leave the other persons untouched which were the true murderers, it is the part of an accuser, which deserveth himself to be accused of partiality.

As verily I think by this woman, that if she had been a Catholic Papist and a devout follower of their Church, as she was a Protestant, she had neither been condemned thē alive of them, nor now accused being dead of M. H. But God forgive him, and make him a good man, if it be his will.

The Martirdome of Joan Wast, a blind woman in the Town of Darbye.

THe first day of August, in the year above specified, suffered likewise at the Town of Darby, a certain poor honest godly woman: being blind from her birth, and vnmaryed, about the age of xxii. named Joan Wast, of the Parish of Alhallowes. Of them that sat upon this innocent woman's blood, the chiefest was Ra • e Bayne Bishop of the Dyoces, Doctor Draycot his Chancellor, sir John Port Knight, Henry Uernon Esquire, Peter Finshe official of Darby, with the assistance also of diverse other, Richard Warde, and William Bembrige, the same time being Bailiffs of the Town of Darby &c. First after the above named Byshoppe, and Doct. Draycot had caused the said Joan Waste to be apprehended in the Town of Darby, suspecting her to be guilty of certain heresies, she was diverse times privily examined, as well in prison as out of Prison: by Finsh the Officiall aforesaid: After that brought to public examination before the Bishop, at last was there burnt in Darby, as is above said. Touching whose life, bringing up, & conuersatiō, somewhat more amply we mind to discourse as by faithful relation hath come to my hands.

First, this Joan Wast was the daughter of one William Wast, an honest poor man, and by his science a Barber: who some time also used to make Ropes. His wife had the same Joan, and one other at one birth, and she was borne blind. And when she was about xii. or xiiii. years old, she learned to knit hosen and sleeves, and other things, which in time she could do very well. Furthermore as time served she would help her father to turn ropes, and do such other things as she was able, and in no case would be idle. Thus continued she with her father and mother during their lives: After whose departure then kept she with one Roger Wast her brother, who in y ^e time of king Edw. the 6. of blessed memory, gave her self daily to go to the church to hear Divine service read in y ^e vulgar tongue. And thus by hearing Homilies and sermons, she became merueilously well affected to the Religion then taught. So at length having by her labor gotten and saved so much money as would buy her a new testament, she caused one to be provided for her. And though she was of herself unlearned and by reason of her blindness unable to read, yet for the great desire she had to understand and have printed in her memory the sayings of holy scriptures contained in the New Testament, she acquainted her self chiefly with one John Hurt, then prisoner in the common Hall of Darby, for debts.

The same John Hurt being a sober grave man of the age of three score and ten years, by her earnest entreaty, and being Prisoner, and many times idle and without company, did for his exercise daily read unto her someone chapter of the New Testament. And if at any time he wer otherwise occupied or letted through sickness: she would repair unto one John Pemerton Clarke of the Parishe Church of all saints in the same town of Darby, or to some other person which could read, and sometimes she would give a penny or two (as she might spare) to such persons as would not freely read unto her, appoyntyng unto them aforehand how many Chapiters of the new Testament they should read, or how often they should repeat one Chapiter upon a price.

Moreover in the said Joan Wast, this was notoryous that she being utterly blind, could not withstanding without a guide, go to any Church within the said town of Darby, or to any other place or person, with whom she had any such exercise. By which exercise she so profited, y ^t she was able not only to recite many Chapiters of y ^e new testament without book, but also could aptly impugn, by diverse places of scriptures, as well sin, as such abuses in Religion, as then were to much in use, in diverse and sundry persons.

As this godly woman thus daily increased in y ^e knowledge of God's holy word and no less in her life expressed the virtuous fruits and exercise of the same: Not long after, through y ^e fatal death of blessed K. Edw. followed the woeful ruin of religion, in the reign of Queen Mary his sister. In which alteration, notwithstanding the general backsliding of the greatest part and multitude of the whole realm into the old papisme again, yet this poor blind woman continuing in a constant conscience, proceeded still in her former exercise, both being zealous in y ^t she had learned, and also refusing to communicate in religion with those which taught contrary doctrine to that she before had learned in king Edward's time, as is above declared.

For the which she was called and convented before the foresaid Bishop and D. Draycot, with diverse other called in to bear witness.

*Edward Sharpe.

ABout the beginning of the next month following, which was September, a certain godly, aged, devout, & zealous person of the Lord's glory, borne in Wiltshyre, named Edward Sharpe, of the age of lx. years, or thereabout, was condemned at Bristow to the like Martyrdom where he constantly & manfully persisting in y ^e just quarrel of Christ's Gospel, for misliking and renouncing the ordinances of the Romish Church, was tried as pure gold, and made a lively sacrifice in the fire: in whose death as in y ^e death of all his other saints, the Lord be glorified and thanked for his great grace of constancy: to whom be praise forever, Amen.

Four suffered at Mayfield.

NExte after the Martyrdom of Edward Sharpe above said, followed iiii. which suffered at Mayfield in Sussex, the xxiiii. day of September. anno. 1556. Of whose names, ii. we find recorded, and the other two we yet know not, and therefore according to our register, here under they be specified, as we find them.

• John Hart.
• Thomas Rauensdale.
• A Shomaker.
• And a Coriar.

Which said .4. being at the place where they should suffer, after they had made their prayer, and were at the stake, ready to abide the force of the fire, they constantlye & joyfully yielded their lives for the testimony of the glorious Gospel of Jesus Christ, unto whom be praise forever, and ever. Amen.

The day after the Martyrdom of these foresaid at Mayfield, which was the 24. of September. an. 1556. was a young man (which by science was a Carpenter, whose name we have not) put to death for the like testimony of Jesus Christ at Bristow, where he yielding himself to the torments of the fire, gave up his life into the hands of the Lord, with such joyful constancye and triumph, as all the Church of Christ have just cause to praise God for him.

The martyrdom of John Horne and a woman.

NOw, not long after the death of the said young man at Bristow, in the same month were two mo godly Martyrs consumed by fire at Wotton Underhedge in Glocestershyre, whose names are above specified, which died very gloriously in a constant faith, to the terror of the wicked, and comfort of the Godly. So graciously did the Lord work in them, that death unto them was life, and life with a blotted conscience was death.

A pitiful story concerning the unmerciful handling of W. Dangerfield, and Joan his wife being in childbed, taken out of her house, with her sucking infant of 14. days old, & laid in the common Jail amongst thieves and murderers.

WHen I had written and finished the story of y ^e Garnsey women, with the young infant there with them burned, and also had passed the burning of the poor blind woman Joan Wast at Darby, I well hoped I should have found no moe such stories of unmerciful cruelty shown upon seely women with their children and young infantes: but now coming to the persecution of Gloucester shyre about the partes of Bristow, I find another story of such unmercifulness shown against a woman in childbed, as far from all charity and humanity, as hath ben any other story yet hitherto rehearsed, as by the sequel hereof may appear.

In the Parish of Wotton Underhedge, not far from Bristow, was dwelling one W. Dangerfield a right honest and godly poor man, who by Joan Dangerfield his wife had ix. Children, and she now lying in childbed of the tenth. Thys William after he had been abroad from his house a certain space, for fear of persecution, hearing that his wife was brought to bed, repaired home to visit her, as natural duty required, and to see his children, she being now delivered four days before.

The return of this man was not so soon known to some of his unkind & uncharitable neighbors, but they incensed with the spirit of Papistrye, eftsoons beset the house about, and there took the said W. Dangerfield. & carried him to prison, and so at length he was brought to the Bishop, being then Doctor Brookes: in whose cruel handling he remained a certain space, so longe till his legs almost were freated off with irons.

After the apprehension, of the Husband, the wife likewise was taken, with her young borne child, being but 14. days old (as is said) out of her childbed, and carried into the common Jail, and there placed amongst thieves and murderers, where both she and her poor innocent found so small charity amongst the catholic men, that she never could come to any fire, but was driven to warm the clothes that she should put about the child, in her bosom.

In the mean season while they lay thus enclosed in several prisons, the husband and the wife, the Bishop beginneth to practice not with the woman first, as the serpent did with Eve, but with the man, craftily deceiving his simplicity, with fair glossing words, falsely persuading him that his wife had recanted, and asking him, wherefor he should more stand in his own conceate, then she being as well learned as he, and so subtly drew out a form of recantation, wherewith he deceived the simple soul. Whereunto after y ^t he had once granted that he would consent, although he had not yet recanted, they suffered him to to go to his wife, where she lay in the common Jail.

Then they with melting hearts opening their minds one to another, when he saw his wife not released, & perceiving that he had not done well, he declared unto her y ^e whole matter, how falsely he was circumvented by y ^e subtle flatteringes of the Bishop, bearing him in hand that certainly she had recanted: and thus deceiving me (said he) brought this unto me, and so plucked out of his bosom the copy of the recantation, whereunto he had granted his promise. At the sight whereof the wife hearing what her husband had done, her heart clave a sunder, saying: Alacke, thus long have we continued one, and hath Satan so prevailed, to cause you to break your first vow made to Christ in Baptism? And so departed the said W. and Joan his wife, with what hearts the Lord knoweth. Then began he not a little to bewail his promise made to the Bishop, and to make his prayer to almighty God, desiring him that he might not live so long as to cal evil good, and good evil: or light darkness, or darkness light, and so departed he home toward his house: where by the way homeward (as it is affirmed) he took his death and shortly after departed according to his prayer, after he had endured in prison xii. weeks.

After this, Joan his wife continued still in prison with her tender infant, till at last she was brought before that Bishop to be examined. Whereunto what her answers were, it is not certainly known. Howbeit most like it is whatsoever they were, they pleased not the Bishoppe, as appeared by his ire increased against the poor woman & her long continuance in the prison, together with her tender babe, which also remained with her in y ^e Jail, partaker of her Martyrdom, so long as her milk would serve to give it suck, till at length the child being starved for cold and famine, was sent away when it was past all remedy, and so shortly after died. And not long after y ^e mother also followed, besides the old woman which was mother of the husband, of the age of 80. years and upward. Who being left in the house after their apprehension for lack of comfort there perished also.

And thus have ye in one story the death of four together: first of the old woman, then of the husband, after that of the innocent child, and lastly of the mother. What became of the other nine children, I am not perfectly sure, but that I partly understand, that they were all undone by the same.

This story is reported and testified as well by other as namely by Mistress Bridges, dwelling in the same town, and partaker then of the like afflictions, and hardly escaped with her life.

A Shomaker suffering in Northamton.

IN the month of October following, was burned at the town of Northampton, a Shomaker, a true witness and disciple of the Lord, who according to the grace of God given unto him, cleaving fast to the sound doctrine and preaching of God's word, renounced the untrue and false coloured religion of the Romish sea, wherein many a good man hath been drowned.

After whom, not long after in the same month of October, died also in the Castle of Chichester three godly confessors, being there in bonds for the like cause of Christ's Gospel, who also should have suffered y ^e like Martyrdom, had not their natural death, or rather (as it is to be suspected) the cruel handling of the papists made them away before, and afterward buried them in the field.

I read moreover that in this present year, to wit, An. 1556. was burnt one called Hooke a true witness of the Lord's truth, at Chester.

Five famished in Canterbury Castell, by the unmerciful tyranny of the Papists about the beginning of November.

AS among all the Bishops, Boner bishop of London, principally excelled in persecuting the poor members and Saints of Christ: so of all Archdeacons Nicholas Harpesfield Archdeacon of Cāterburie (as may by man's sight appear) was the forest, and of least compassion) only Dunning of Norwich excepted) by whose unmerciful nature, and agrest disposition, very many were put to death in that diocese of Canterbury, not only in the bloody time of that Queen, but some also in the blessed beginning of this our moste renowned Queen that now is, as by the grace of Christ hereafter shall appear.

Of those that suffered in Queen Mary's time within the foresaid diocese of Canterbury, some be recited already, with the order and form set down of such Articles as then were most commonly ministered to the examinates by Thorneton, Suffragane of Dover, and the said Nicholas Harpsefielde and other, as before in the volume of this history may appear, pag. 1683. Now to proceed in the order and course of time where we left, next followeth the month of November.

In the beginning whereof were together in the Castell of Canterbury 15. godly and innocent Martyrs, of which number, not one escaped with their life, but either were burned, or else were famished in prison. Of y ^t which two sortes, which is the easier death: God knoweth it is hard to judge. Notwithstāding, the truth is, that of these 15.10. were burned and suffered in the fire, of whom in the next book more shall follow hereafter, the Lord willing. The other 5. were pined and famished most unmercifully in the strait prison, of whom we have here presently to entreat. Whose names were these.

Which two were yet uncondemned.
• 1. John Clearke.
• 2. Dunston Chittenden.

These were condemned to be burnt.
• 3. W. Foster of Stone.
• 4. Alice Potkins wife, of Stapleherst.
• 5. John Archer of Cranbroke, weauer.

Of these 5. prisoners, the first two were uncondemned, the other three last were condemned, and should have been burned, but suffered no less torments then if they had abidde the fire, being macerate and pined to death by famine. What their articles and answers were, it needeth not here to recite, seeing all they, in that time of Queen Mary, commonly suffered for one manner & sort of cause, y ^t is, for holding against the 7. Sacraments, against the realtie of Christ's being in his supper, for speaking against the church of Rome, and determinations of the same, against Images set up and worshipped in the church, for not coming to the church, and such other like. &c.

First, William Foster answering to these and like articles, said, that he believed well in all the Articles of the Creed: but to believe to be m0e Sacraments then two, and to pray to Saints, either to profit us, or to pray for souls in purgatory to profit them, that faith and works do justify, or to alow the popish ceremonies in y ^e church, that he denied. Moreover he said, to carry Candels upon Candelmasse day, were as good for him as to carry a dungforke, and that it is as necessary to carry the galowes about, if his father were hanged, as the cross. To come to the church he cannot, said he, with a safe conscience. Concerning fish days and flesh days, he granted it good to put difference therein, except where necessity required the contrary.

This William Foster was a laboring man, of y ^e age of xl. years. He was apprehended and imprisoned by Sir Thomas Moyle Knight.

Alice Potkins for the like confession, was condemned to be burned, for that she was not, neither would be confessed to the Priest, for that she received not the sacrament of the altar, because she would not pray to saints, nor creep to the Cross. &c. Being demanded of her age, she said that she was xlix. years old according to her old age, & according to her young age, since she learned Christ, she was of one years age, and was committed by master Roberts to prison.

The answer and confession of John Archer of Crambroke, was much in like sort. And although certain of these upon ignorant simplicity swerved a little in y ^e number of Sacraments, some granting one sacrament, that is, the body of Christ hanging upon the cross, some moe, some less. &c. yet in the principal matter touching the doctrines of salvation for faith to stay upon, and in disagreing from the dreaming determinations of the Popish church, they moste agreed. Concerning the not praying to saints, and for the dead in Purgatory, for not creepynge to the cross, for faith only to justify, for taking of an oth & such other like, he granted as the other had done. This father Archer, by his occupation a Weaver of the town of Crābroke, of the age of 50. years, was attached and imprisonned by syr John Gilforde knight. And thus have ye the cause and imprisonment of these 5. godly prisoners. Now as touching the cruelty of their death, for that ye shall not surmise the suspicion or relation thereof to proceed of myself, ye shall hear their own testimony and certification by their own letter thrown out of the prison concerning the unmerciful dealing of the Catholic tyrants in famishing them, as is aforesaid. The words and copy of their letter is this.

The trouble and vexation of good people in the Diocese of Lichfield.

THese foresaid months of September, November, and December as they were troublesome to diverse other places, and especially to the Dioces of Canterbury, by reason of the Archdeacon above named: so likewise they brought no little business in the country of Lichfield and Coventry by a cruel bishop there called Rafe Bane, and a more cruel Chancellor named Doctor Draycot, through the fierce inquisition of whom, great stir was there among the people, being called to examination for their Faith, and many caused to bear fagottes. Who altho • h they were not put to y ^e torment of death, yet because it may appear what a number there is in the countries of England abroad, which in their hearts have a misliking of the Popes Romish laws and religion, if for fear they durst utter their minds, I thought to make a rehearsal of their names which in the foresaid Diocese of Coventry and Lichfielde, were taken in suspicion and examined for their Religion.

And first amongst them that were detected and enjoined to the popish penance, that is, to bear a fagot, candle, and beads about in procession, were Agnes Forman, detected, examined, and by witness convicted and bare a fagot the 12. of September. Likewise Margery Kirry, Thomas Norreis, Thomas Stiffe, William Kayme, Robert Katrenes, Thomas Smith, John Borsley the younger. Ite • John Waterhouse, against whom came in witness and accusers, Richard Caterbanke, I. Edge, William Smith, Robert Cook, laying against him for seldom coming to the Church, for giving no reverence at the leuation of the Sacrament, but looking upon his book, for not kissing y ^e paxe. &c. Robert Bissel, Leonard West, Richard Bailey of the parish of Whiteacre.

These were deprived.
• Nicholas Cartwright, Doctor.
• Richard Iurdian, Priest.
• Edmund Crokel, Priest.
• Thomas Whitehead, Priest.
• William Taylor, Priest.
• Anselm Sele, Priest.
• Richard Slauie, Priest married.
• Edward Hawes, Priest married.
• Robert Aston, Priest deprived.
• Henry Tecka, Priest deprived.
• Rob. Mossey, priest married & deprived.

Beside these were diverse other, which in like sort were detected, accused, and examined, although they bare no fagot, but were dimissed, as Richard Kempe, John Frankling, William Marler, Ielius Dudley, Eustache Bysacre, William Shene, Antony Afterwittel, Tho. Steilbe, Henry Birdlim, William Mosley, John Leeche, John Richardson, Anthony Jones, alias Pulton, Thom. Wilson, Thomas Lynacres, and Hugh Lynacres his son, Isabel Parker, Martin Newman, William Enderby, Cicely Preston, Thomas Saulter, John Stamford shomaker, Richard Woodburne, Thomas Arnall Shoemaker, John Robinson, Hugh More Shoemaker, John Adale, Thomas Arche, Francis Warde, John Auines, Richard Foxal, Thomas Underdoune, Rich. Weaver.

The next month following, being October, came under examination Ioyce Louis gentlewoman, of whom we defer to speak until the next year, at what time she was burned?

These forenamed persons with many moe following in the next year after, although they did subscribe and relent through fear of death: yet for this cause I do here recite them, that by them it might appear, what a number there were, not only in the country of Lichfield, but also in other parties in heart set against the Popes proceedings, if that fear rather then conscience had not compelled them to the contrary.

The conclusion of this XI. Book, with a brief story of Syr John Cheeke. &c.

ANd thus have ye the whole persecution of this yere declared, which was the year of our Lord 1556. and the fourth of Queen Mary's reign, with the names and causes of all them which suffered Martyrdom within the compass of the said year: the number of all which slain & Martyred in diverse places of England at sundry times this yere came to above 84. persons, whereof many were women, wines, widows, and maidens: besides them which otherwise by secreate practice were made away, or driven out of goods and houses, or out of the Realm, or else within the realm, were put to penance, and coacted by forceable violence to recante, save only that I have omitted the story of Sir John Cheeke, Knight, and scholemaster sometimes to king Edward. The worthiness of which man deserveth much to be said: but his fall would rather be covered in silence and oblivion. Only to note a word or two of a few things to the present story moste principally appertaining, it shall suffice.

First M. Cheeke being in the country of Germany, out of all danger of persecution, w ^t many moe of his own countrymen and acquaintance, was not only in safety, but also with reputation accordingly esteemed among the Germans, and also well placed in the City of Strausbourgh. Where if he had contented himself to have remained, rather giving place to time, then to presume upon adventures, peradventure it had been better with him. But what fatal instigatiō wrought in his mind, I know not. In the ende so it fell, that he would needs take his journey with Sir Peter Carew, from hie Germany unto Brussels, and that (as I have credibly heard of them which knew somewhat, not without the forecasting of his adventured journey by the constellation of stars, & disposition of the heavens above. For as he was a man famously expert, and travailed in the knowledge of sundry arts and sciences: so was he a little too much addicted to the curious practicing of this Star divinity, which we call Astrology. But how soever it was, or whatsoever it was that the stars did promise him, truth was, that mē here in earth kept little promise with him. For having (as it is said) king Phillips safeconduct to pass and repass, and that by the means (as I find) of the Lord Paget, and Sir John Mas. pledging for his safeguard king Phillips fidelity, he came to Brussels to see the Queens Ambassadors, and having brought the lord Paget on his way toward England, in the return between Brussels & Anwarpe, was taken with sir Peter Carewe by the Prouest Marshal, spoiled of their horses, and clapped into a carte, their legs, arms, and bodies tied with halters to the body of the carte, and so shipped, being blindfielde under the hatches, and so brought to the tower of London.

Thus the good man being entrapped, & in the hands now of his enemies, had but one of these 2. ways to take either to change his religion, or to change his life. Other remedy with those holy catholics there was none. Neither could his conscience excuse him, nor truth defend him, nor learning help him.

Albeit M. Fecknam, whether by the Queen suborned, or upon his own devotion and friendship toward his old acquaintance, took upon him the defense & commendation of M. Cheeke, speaking in his behalf: yet no mercy could be had with the Queen, but he must needs recant, and so did he. The copy of whose recantation prescribed unto him, because it is known, and in the hands of diverse, it needeth not here to be expressed.

Then after his recantation, he was through the crafty handling of the Catholics, allured first to dine and company with them, at length drawn unawares to sit in place, where the poor Martyrs were brought before Boner and other Bishops to be condemned, the remorse whereof so mightily wrought in his heart, that not long after he left this mortal life. Whose fall although it was full of infirmity, yet his rising again by repentance was great, and his ende comfortable, the Lord be praised.

The order and manner of the Cardinals visitation in Cambridge, with the condemning, taking up, and burning the bones and Books of Bucer and Paulus Phagius, An. 1557. Ian. 9.

C Ardinall Poole, three years after his return into England, having somewhat withdrawn his mind from other affairs of the realm, and having in all points established the Romish religion, began to have an eye to the university of Cambridge, which place among other, specially seemed to have need of reformation out of hand. To perform this charge, were chosen Cuthbert Scot, not long before consecrated Bishop of Chester, Nicholas Ormanet an Italian, Archpriest of the people of Bodolon, in the diocese of Ueron, professed in both the laws, and bearing the name of the popes Datary, Tho. Watson, elected Bish. of Lincoln, John Chrystopherson, elected bish. of Chichester, and Henry Cole Prouost of the college of Eaton. There was good cause why the matter was especially committed to these persons. For as touching Ormanet, it is well known that he was a man of much estimation with Julius the 3. at that time B. of Rome, and was appointed to come into England with Cardinal Poole, because without his knowledge (as in whom he put his chief trust and confidence) the B. would have nothing done that was of any importance or weight.

These persons thus appointed (in the mean while as the visitors were addressing themselves to their journey) sent their letters with the Cardinals Citation before doctor Andrew Perne, Uicechācellor then of Cambridge, with the other Commissioners associate, commāding him to warn all the Graduates of the University in their name, to be in a readiness against the 11. day of January, betwixt 8. and 10. of the clock, in the church of S. Mary the virgin: willing him especially to be there him self in presence, and also to set forward all the residue, to whose charge it belonged, y ^t they should search out all Statutes, Books, Privileges, and Monuments appertaining to the University, or to any of the Colleges, or finally to any of thenselves, and these to present the same before them at the day appointed, and every mā to appear there personally: for they would not fail, but be there at the same time, to lay before them such things as should seme necessary to this charge of reforming y ^e vniuersitye, and further to give charge of all such things as should seem most for the profit & behoove of the same, together with such things as were to be done on their parte, according as should seem most agreeable to the Decrees of the Canon law.

This citation of the Cardinal being brought to Cambridge by master bullock, was first exhibited in the Conuocation house of Regents, and there openly red by the Orator of the University the 11. of December.

After this, upon the 24. of December, which was Christenmasse even, the Uicechancellor, with the heads of houses meeting together in the Schools, it was there concluded, that the visitors charges should be borne by the university and Colleges (which then cost the University an 100. pound thick) and also that no master of any College should suffer any of the fellows, scholars, or ministers, to go forth of the town, but to return before the Uisitation.

On friday, the 8. of January, the Queens Commissioners, videlicet, Doctor Perne Uicechauncellor, Doctor Segewicke, Doctor Haruy, M. Francke, Kust, and another who is here nameless, also with sir James Dyer, the Recorder, M. Chapman, Euered sitting together in the Hal, certain were there called by the appointment of L. Hawes, and charge given what should be done. And first the Commission was read. Then were all the high Constables called to bring in their precepts, and sworn. Also 2. of every Parishe of 10. or 12. hundredes, were sworn to inquire of heresy, lollardie, conspiracy, seditious words, tales, and rumors against the King and Queen. Item, for heretical and seditious books, for negligences & misdemeanor in the church, for observation of Ceremonies, for Ornaments, and stock of the church.

We said at the first, that the Cardinal thought the University to have need of reformation. The reason why he should think so, was this: either because the same of long continuance since any man could remember, had cast of the Yoke of the B. of Rome, and cleaved to the wholesome doctrine of the gospel, or else by reason that both for the late schism, not yet worn out of memory, and for the doctrine of Martin Bucer, who not long before openly in the said University interpreated holy Scripture, they saw many so sore corrupted and spotted with this infection, that (even as when a fire is spread in a town) unless a speedy remedy were adhibited out of hand, it were not possible, to their thinking, to quench it many years after. Who also feared (if it were not looked to in time) least this mischief should take rote, and by little and little infect all the members next unto it, which yet were whole and sound.

This was the year of our Lord 1556. To the intent therefore to make a salve for this sore, the Inquisitors, of whom we spake before, came unto Cambridge the 9. day of January. And as they were yet on their journey, not far from the town, diverse of the Masters & Presidents of the colleges met them, and brought them courteously, first into the town, and after to their lodging. They were entertained in Trinity college by M. John Christopherson Master of the same house, and lately before elected B. of Chichester. Notwithstanding they were desired, some to one place, and some to another as occasion served, either to do their duties, or to show their good wills: Cole to the kings College, and D. Watson to S. John's. But whether it were for the acquaintance of Christopherson, or for the largeness of the house, which seemed most convenient for their purpose, they all took up their lodgings in the said College with M. Christopherson.

At their coming thither an Oration was made by a fellow of the house, who in the name of all the rest, w ^t long Protestation declared that they were moste heartily welcome thither, & that he and his fellows gave them great thanks, that it had pleased their lordships to have so good opiniō of them, as to choose their house especially to lodge in, whereby they had both encouraged them to stand in hope of some further benevolence towards them, and also done great worship to their College by their being there: wherefore they should look at their hand again for as much duty and reverence, as lay in their power to perform.

To this Oration Watson made answer, that this forewarde and earnest good willes and minds of theirs, in doing such courtesy, was right thankfully taken, both of hun and his, exhortinge them to continue steadfastly in the same, and to proceed also when need should require: for it was so far from any of their thoughts, to stop thē in this their race, that they would rather haste them forward to run through more speedily, being not w ^t out good cause persuaded to conceive good hope of their benevolence towards them, in as much as they would do for them, whatsoever might tourne to their profit and commodity.

Thys day, for as much as it was toward evening ere they came, and the sun was going down, was nothing else done. The next day being the 10. of January, they bestowed in recreating them selves after their journey, and in setting other things at a stay. Nevertheless to the intent the same should not escape altogether without doing of somewhat, they interdicted the 2. Churches, namely S. Mary's, where Martin Bucer, and S. Michaels, where Paulus Phagius lay buried.

These men were dead a good while before Paulus Phagius had scarce yet shown the proof of his wit and learning, when he departed to God. 1549. Bucer lived but a little after. During which time somewhat by writing, but chiefly by reading and preaching openly (wherein the old man being painful in the word of God, never spared himself nor regarded his health) he brought all men into such admiration of him, that neither his friends could sufficiently praise him, neither his enemies in any point find fault with his singular life & sincere doctrine. A most certain token whereof may be his sumptuous burial, solempnised with so great assistance and gladness of all the degrees of the University, that it was not possible to devise more to the setting out and amplifyinge of the same. The whole manner and order of the doing whereof, being written by M. Nicholas Carre, a learned man in a little treatise to Syr John Cheeke Knight, with an Epistle full of consolation as concerning his departure added thereunto, was sent afterward unto Peter Martyr, then abiding at Oxford.

From the burial of Bucer and Phagius, unto the coming of these visitours were passed about 3. or 4. years more or less. And from the time that that blessed Kynge Edward the vi. deceased, unto that day, the Priests never ceased to celebrate their Masses, and other kind of Ceremonies in those places, and that without scruple of conscience, as far as men could perceive. But after the time that these Commissioners came thither, those things that before were accounted for sacred and holy, began to be denounced for profane and unholy. For they commanded that all those assemblies that should hereafter be made for the executing of holy Ceremonies, should be removed to the kings Chapel, which is a place far more stately then all the other.

Now was come the 11. day, in the which the Uicechācellor of the University, with the masters and presidents of the Colleges, and all the other Graduates of every house, were commanded to appear before the said Commissioners in their habits. It was commanded that the scholars also should come in their surplises, but that was not done. They assembled in great mumber to Trinity college: having the University cross borne before them, & in the gatehouse a form was set and covered, with cusshings and carpet on the ground for the visitours. Where the Uicechancellor having on a Tishewe cope, sprinkeled holy water on them, and purposed to sense them, but they refused it there, which notwithstanding afterward in the Queens College and elsewhere they refused not.

There M. John Stokes common Orator of the university, made an Oration in the name of all the rest. The Copy whereof I thought good here to exemplificate, in Latin as it was pronounced.

Master Stokes Oration to Queen Mary's Visitors at Cambridge, An. 1557. Ian. 11.

ACademia, Reuerendi Patres, in expectatione aduentus vestri sollicita aliquandiu fuit, nunc praesentia dominationum vestrarum valde recreata libentissime vultus vestros intuetur, & ad apertam voluntatis suae testificationem, ecce vniuersa se suasque opes effudit. Conuenit in hunc locum tota Cantabrigiae frequentia, adsunt omnes ordines, de quorum certa mihi & explorata ad hanc rem voluntate, illud publica fide apud dominationes vestras affirmo, eos & separatim singulos, & coniunctim omnes optatissimum hunc aduentum mirificis studijs, & consentientibus animis gratulari. Illud enim omnium animis habemus persuasum, & negotium hoc quod hodierno die, fauente Deo, excellentia vestra auspicatur, ad academiae rations fore accommodum, neque in re, ad communem salutem tam necessaria, operam aliquando vestram nobis defuturam. Permulta sunt ad hanc opinionem confirmandam, sed caetera non persequor: ea tantum oratione attingam, quae ita intime cum praesenti negotio cohaerent, vt diuelli ab eo disiungique nulla ration possint. Atque sunt illa quidem numero certa & finita: verum re & virtute, ita immensa, vt nulla dicendi facultate mea plene comprehendi possent: q́uoniam tamen & antea sum professus summam esse academiae laetitiam, eamque iustis de causis in aduentu vestro susceptam, quaeso à vobis, vt dum ease breuiter recenseo faciles mihi aures praebeatis.

Reuerendiss. in Christo Pater Cardinalis Polus, Legatus, qui religionem oppressam restituit, patriae ruinas suffulsit, leges & decreta quasi postliminio reduxit, iste inquàm, iste Polus Anglus, & vere noster Moses, legationis vestrae autor est, à cuius excellenti virtute in omnes suae patriae partes plurima commoda dimanarunt. Quo vinculo necessitudinis, & si omnibus temporibus optima ab illo sperare liceret, quod ex corpore simus ipsius reipublicae, arctior est tamen & interior causa, quae nobis cum dominatione illius separatim intercedit. Superiore anno academiae procurationem in se humanissime recepit, quam liberari custodia ita coeptam tenere se velle, literis significauit, vt non solum incommoda dimoueret, quibus studia nostra affligerentur, sed vt ornamenta adijceret ea, quorum splendore augeri dignitas academiae aut maxim illustra • i posset. Quae res & spem antea nostram confirmauit, & nunc in eam cogitationem nos adducit, vt omnem illius humanitatem in hanc vnam visitationem esse collectam putemus, in qua quidem ea a vobis expectamus omnia, quae summi cancellarij nostri insignis amor praeter communem charitatem academiae, quasi pupillae suae propriae pollicetur. Atque vtinam quidem ipse sine reipublicae detrimēto, hoc tempore adesse posset, & academiam suam e tenebris & profunda nocte emersam, ipse suis radijs verae religions splendore illustraret, verum optioni nostrae publica vtilitas repugnat, qua valde impeditus sanctissimae sedis Apostolicae legatus, vos Vicarios substitute: quorum naturas propter prouidentiam, personas propter dignitatem, voluntates propter educationem aptissimas ad hanc rem esse iudicauit. Ita que illud vere & ex animis istorum omnium affirmare possum, vos eos esse viros quorum religionem amamus, virtutem colimus, voluntatem, fidem, & consilium ad publicam salutem impendimus. Post quam enim singulari & praestantissima virtute Cardinalis Poli, legati e superiorum temporum caligine, & tenebris, lucem in republica respicere coepimus, vna certe grauissima etiam superioris aetatis mala sensimus, quibus profecto infinitis & miserrimis etsi antea premeremur, tamen ad calamitatis nostrae magnitudinem accessit eiusdem ignoratio, vt (mea quidem opinione) eo simus magis miserabiles iudicandi, quod tam turbulenta tempestate iactati ne moueri quidem nos, tam graui & periculoso haeresis morbo oppressi, aut aegrotare mentes nostras, non intelleximus. Valde enim periculosa est aegrotatio illa, quaecunque sine doloris sensu naturam conficit, & affectos saepe priùs extinguit, quam aegrotare se fateantur. Eiusmodi morbo Academia laborabat, quae ad alias fortasse res satis ingeniosa & solers, in hac Religions causa, propter caput Ecclesiae laesum, vnde omnis sentiendi vis est, omnino hebes, stupida, & sine mente fuit, quoad tertio ante hunc anno diuina sanctissimi patris Iulij Clementia Angliae fere emortuae miserata, iterum nos Ecclesiae inserit, corpus sensusque recreate, cuius ope conualescens Britannia, quam certa gehennae pericula effugerit, quiuis facile intelligit. Idem Academia cernit acutius, ne{que} quicquàm mali vspiam accidisse putat, quo nostra Regio in hac religions vastitate & schismate miserius fuerit afflicta. Non est opus recensere in hoc loco euersa Monasteria, spoliata Templa, strages sacerdotum, caedes nobilium, motus & tumultus populi, totius Regni egestatem, quae & si aliunde accidere possunt, tamen cum tam grauia sint vt opprimant, vltionis & vindictae potius quam probandi causa in malos & nocentes infligi putamus. Sed sunt ista fortunae ludibria, grauiora sumus passi religions & conscientiae detrimenta: pietas in Deum omnis euanuerat, virginalis sacerdotum professio ad libidinem soluta est, animus quasi consopitus iacebat, quem nullae Ceremoniae excitabant, ipsa men's opinionum varietate ita distracta, ita sibi ipsi dissentiens, vt infinitis erroribus implicaretur. In his erant duo praecipue fontes, ex quorum riuulis & hausisse Academiam paulo liberalius, & illa potione ferme inebriatam confi • emur.

Prior ortum habebat ex illa nostri violenta diuulsione, à catholicae Ecclesiae vnitate, re non dissimili illius pugnae, quam olim Menenius Agrippa in intestina ciuium discordia, de corpore humano memorabat. Posterior ex immensa palude & coeno Wicleuiano emanauit: quem celebris apud nos imo miserabilis de Sacramento altaris patefecit. De cuius rei veritate plerique suo sensu abundantes, pro arbitrio quisque suo statuerat. Nos Philosophos, nec illos quidem optimos, imitati ex Epicureorū schola ad scripturae lumen aliquid attulimus, quod enim Christus omnino, praecise, & sine exceptione, de vera & perpetua sui corporis praesentia affirmarat (in cuius verbi veritate fundamentum fidei nostrae collocatur) id nos ita sumus interpretati, vt mancam & alienam Christi vocem iudicaremus, nisi illa Epicuri propria particula (quasi) adderetur, & quod Christiani corpus & sanguinem, id nos quasi corpus & sanguinem diceremus. Sed non est istius temporis praeterita nimium meminisse, quae vtinam eterna obliuione obrui possent, neque vlla tantae labis memoria ad posteros nostros propagetur, tamen fuerunt attingenda generatim quidem, quod erranti confessio salutaris sit, membratim vero, quod Academia his vulneribus á Censoria potestate confecta, à Censoria medicina ad salutem reduci postulat. Ipsa vero pro se & suis spondet omnes in authoritate vestra futuros, quos assiduis concionibus adeo ad poenitentiam edocuit, vt & eos ad sanam religionem fidissime transijsse, & in eadem diligenti praesentis vitae vsu superioris aetatis damna sarcituros putetis. Nam qui primi in hoc cursu sunt acerrime contendunt in eo, quod tam voluntary susceperunt & qui pigrius egressi, quasi pomeridianis horis ad hoc certamen accesserunt, ea certe praebent iam immutatae voluntatis indicia, vt quomodo temere & iuueniliter à sana religione defecerunt, ita non nisi maturi & cum iudicio ab heresy desciuisse videantur. Vniuersis vero simul restituta & desiderata religio magis placere videtur, quia si assidue praecepta, neque ad tempus obscurata fuisset.

Quapropter Academia supplex & prostrata primùm à Deo immortali pacem & veniam petit precaturque ab eo, vt hodiernum diem ad suorum salutem conseruandam, & rempublicam hanc constituendam illuxisse patiatur. Deinde pro se, pro suis, pro vniuersis, pro singulis, hanc petitionem ad celsitudines vestras affert, vt superiorum temporum offensas ex error & iustitia profectas praesenti hominum industriae condonetis. De reliquis vero pro summa prudentia vestra, & singulari in nos amore eam sent̄tiam feratis, vt su • rum causas vel iustitia vestra bonas inue • at, vel clementia bonas esse faciat. In vtroque parerit beneficium, si • e Academiam pro causarum aequitate iudicaueritis, si • e pro amoris vestri abundantia innocentem eam esse volueritis Nos pro referenda gratia, summam in sacris modestiam, assiduam in literis operam, perpetuum verae religions amorem, sempiternam vestri beneficij memoriam repromittimus.

When he had made an ende of speaking, the Bishop of Chester answered thereunto, that they took in right good part, that the mother the University had made so open a declaration of her good will towards them: for the which he gave most hearty thanks, desiring her to perform in deed and in her works, the things that she had so largely promised of her self in words and communication.

AS concerning their good willes, there was no cause to mistrust. For their coming thither was not to deal any thing roughly with such as fell to the amendment: but both the Cardinal himself, and they also, were fully minded to show favor, devising howe to bring all things to peace and tranquility, desiring nothing more earnestly, then that they which have erred & gone astray, should return in the right pathe again. The right reverend father the Lord Cardinal (whom he wished to have been present) wished the self same thing also, desiring nothing so much as he with his own hands to sustain and hold up now ready to fall, or rather to raise up already fallen to the ground, the University his ward: for he gladly taketh upon him the name and duty of her Garden, whom it greatly grieved that the infections of the times past had spread abroad so grievous diseases, that even the University itself was touched with the contagious air thereof. For he would gladlier have come thither to visit and salute it, then to correct it, if the waightye affairs of the realm would have permitted it. But now seeing he could not so do, he had appointed this Commission, in y ^e which he had assigned them to be his deputies, which (for because they knew him to set much store by the university) should extend the more favor to it, and (for because they thenselves had been there brought up) would the more earnestly embrace it. The chief matter that they came for, tended to this ende y ^t such as had erred should confess their faults, and return into the right way again. For they were in good forwardness of healing, that acknowledged themselves to have offended. And therefore it was wisely propounded on his part that he would not altogether excuse the faults of the University, nor of other men, but confess and acknowledge the crime, as that there were many things had need to be corrected and amended.

The cause why they were sent thither was to raise up them that were fallen, and to receive into favor such as were sory and would amend, wherein if (contrary to their expectation) they should not be able to do so much with some men as they would: yet notwithstanding according to their duty, they would show themselves so dilygent for their parte, as that no lack might be found in them. For it was more openly known than that it could be denied, that many men did diverse things of a froward willfulness, and take stoutlye upon them, wherewith as they were greatly moved and agrieued (as reason was) so they coveted to remedy the mischief. Against whom, if anything should seem hereafter to be straitly determined, it was to be imputed to their own deserts, and not to the willes of them. Neither ought such as are whole & sound to be moved at the chastisement of others, forasmuch as it pertained not only to the wiping out of the foul blot, which now sticked in the university, but also to the health of many others which had taken much hurt by the infection of them. For their own partes, they more enclyned unto mercy then to rigor. Howbeit considering that so great diseases could not by gentle medicines be healed, they were driven of necessity to use stronger. And yet if they would be contented to be brought again to their right minds, which thing they chiefly coveted (for they wished that all should amende and be led by wholesome counsel) & would yet at length wax weary of their errors, and instead of them frequent again the ancient customs of themselves, & of their forefathers, they might boldlye look for all kind of humanity and gentleness at their hands, in all this their business of reformation, which they had now entered and begun, requesting no more of the Uniuersity but to do as became them: which being performed, he promised that their benevolence, neither in any public nor in any private persons case should in any wise be behind hand.

These things being finished, they were brought processionaliter to the king college, by all the Graduates of the university, whereas was song a mass of y ^e holy ghost with great solemnity, nothing wanting in that behalf y ^t might make to the setting forth of the same. In this place it was marked that Nich. Ormanet, commonly surnamed Datary (who albeit he wer inferior in estate unto Chester being a Bish. yet was superior to them all in authority) while the Mass was a celebrating, eft standing, eft sitting and sometime kneeling on his knees, observed certain ceremonies, which afterward were required of all others to be observed, as in process hereof was to be seen.

From thence they attended all upon the Legates to s. Mary's church, which we declared before to have ben interdicted. In the which place, for as much as it was suspēded, although no mass might be song, yet there was a sermon made in open audience by M. Pecocke in the Latin tongue, preaching against heresies and heretics, as Bilney, Cranmer, Latimer, Ridley. &c. The which being ended, they proceeded eftsoons to the visitation. Where first D. Haruye did in the Cardinals name exhibit the commission to the bishop of Chester with a few words in Latin. Which being accepted, and by M. Clarke openly red to the end, then the Uicechancellor with an Oration did exhibit the certificate under his seal of office, with the Cardinals citation annexed, containing every man's name in the University and Colleges, with the Officers and all the masters of houses. Among whom was also Roberte Brassey master of the kings college, a worthy old man, both for his wisdom and his hoary hairs. Who hearing his own name recited next after the Uicechauncellours, said: he was there present as all the other were: nevertheless, for as much as y ^e reformation of his house was wholly reserved to the discretion of the bishop of Lincoln, not only by the kings letters Patents, but also by grant of confirmation from the bishop of Rome him self, under a penalty if he should suffer any strangers to entermeddle, he openly protested in discharge of his duty, that unless their Commission gave them authority and jurisdiction upon that College, either by express words or manifest sense, he utterly exempted himself from being present. This his exception they took all in great displeasure: alleging that they were fully authorysed for the order of that matter by the Cardinal, out of whose jurisdiction no place nor persons was exempted: wherefore he had done evil to call into question their authority, so well known to all men. Chester seemed to be more moved at the matter then all the other: and that was because Brassey had a little before obtained the worship of that room, eve • utterly against his will, and maugre his head, doing y ^e worst he could against him.

After the formal solemnity of these things thus accomplished, the commission being red, and the citation exhibited, all the masters of houses being openly cited, every mā for a while departed home to his own house, with commandment to be at the common schools of the said university at one of the clock the same day. When the degrees of the vniuersitye, commonly called Regents & non Regents, were assembled thither, they spent the rest of y ^e day in reading over of Charters, granted to the Uniuersity by kings and princes, in searching out of bulls & pardons from the pope, & in perusing of other Monuments pertaining to the University.

The next day following, being the 12. of Ianu. they resorted to the kings College to make Inquisition, either because the same for the woorthines thereof was chief and sovereign of all the residue, or else because that that house especially before all others, had been counted, time out of mind, never to be without an heretic (as they term them) or twain. And at that present time, alb • it that many now alate had withdrawn themselves from thence, yet they judged there were some remaining still. The order and manner how they would be entertained of every College, when they should come to make Inquisition, they themselves appointed, which was in this sort.

They commanded the master of every house together with the residue, as well fellows as scholars, appareled in priestlike garments (which they cal habits) to mete them at the uttermost gate of their house toward the town. The master him self to be dressed in like apparel as the Priest when he rauisheth himself to Mass, saving that he should put on vppermoste his habit, as the rest did. The order of their going they appointed to be in this wise. The Master of the House to go foremost. Next unto him every man in his order as he was of degree, seigniority, or of years. Before the M. should be carried a cross & holy water to sprinckle the Commissioners withal, and then after that the said Commissioners to be sensed. And so after this meeting, and mumbling of a few devotions, they determined with this pomp and solempnitie to be brought to the Chapel.

Many thought they took more honor upon them than belonged to the state of man. Other some (forasmuch as at that time they not only pretended the jurisdiction of the Cardinal, but also represented the power and authority of the Bishop of Rome himself, who was accounted to be more than a mortal man) said it was far less then of duty appertained to his holiness, in that the honor that was done to his Legates, was not done to them but to his holiness. Now was the hour come, at which they appointed to meet: and being entered the kings college gate, where they looked for the master and fellows of the house, seeing no man came to meet them, they proceeded forth to the Church door, where they stayed. There perceiving how the master and the rest of y ^e house were dressing themselves as fast as they could, as in such order as was appointed before, they came in suddenly upon them, before they had set out any foot out of their places.

Then the master first excused himself, that he was ready no sooner, acknowledging that it had been his duty to have been in a readiness. Secondly, he said he was very glad of their coming, promising first in his own name, and after in the name of all the rest, as much reverence, as might be, in all matters concerning their common veilitie, the which he doubted not, but should be performed at their hands, according to his expectation. But like as he had don the other day in S. Mary's church, the same exception he made to them now also: the which his doing he besoughte them not to be offended withal. For seeing he did it only for the discharge of his duty, he had iuster cause to be held excused.

He had scarcely yet finished his tale, but the Bishop of Chester with a frowning look and an angry countenance, interrupting him of his talk, said: he needed not to repeat the things he had protested before, nor they to make answer anymore to those things wherein they had sufficiently informed him before. He rather feared that their quarrel was not good, that they made such a do about it, & sought such starting holes. For so were diseased persons oftentimes wont to do, when for the pain and grief they are not able to abide a strong medicine. As though that any man were able to grant so strong a privilege, as to w ^t stand the Popes authority. As for the bishops letters, he said must needs make on his side, and with such as were with him, & could not in any wise be alleged against him. Therefore he admonished him to desist from his unprofitable altercation, and to conform himself and his to such things as then were in doing.

After this they went to Mass. Whych finished, with great solemnity, first they went to the high altar of the church, & having there saluted their God, and searching whether all were well about him or no, they walked thorough all the inner chapels of the Church. The Church goods, the crosses, the chalices, the mass books, the vestments, and whatsoever ornaments were besides, were commanded to be brought out unto them. Whē they had sufficiently viewed all things, & had called forth by name every fellow and scholar of the house, they went to y ^e masters lodging, where first and foremost swearing them upon a book to answer to all such interrogatories as should be propounded unto them (as far as they knew) they examined first the master himself, and afterward all the residue, every man in his tourne. But there were some that refused to take this oth, because they had given their faith to the College before, and also because they thought it against all righte and reason to swear against themselves: for it was contrary to all law that a man should be compelled to bewraye himself, and not to be suffered to keep his conscience free, when there is no manifest proof to be laid to his charge: but much more unjust is it, that a man should be constrained perforce to accuse himself. Neuertheles these persons also, after much altercation, at length (conditionally, that their faith given before to the College, wer not impeched thereby) wer cōtēted to be sworn.

Three days long lasted the Inquisition there. Thys was now the 3. day of their coming, & it was thought that the case of Bucer and Phagius was delayed longer then needed. For they looked to have had much altercation and business about the matter. Now, forasmuch as the present state of the case required good deliberation and advisement, the Uicechauncelor and the masters of the colleges assembled at the common schools, where every mā gave his verdit what he thought meet to be done in this matter of Bucer. After much debating, they agreed altogether in this determination: that for as much as Martin Bucer whiles he lived, had not only sowed pernicious & erroneous doctrine among • hem, but also had him self been a sectarie and famous heretic, erring from the Catholic church, and giving others occasion to fall from the same likewise: a supplication should be made to y ^e lord Commissioners, in the name of the whole university, that his dead carkas might forthwith be digged up (for so it was needful to be done) to the intent that Inquisition might be made as touching his doctrine, the which being brought in examination, if it were not found to be good and wholesome, y ^e law might proceed against him: for it was against the rule of the holy Canons, that his body should be buried in christen burial. Yea, and besides that it was to the open derogation of God's honor, and the violating of his holy laws, with the great pearill of many men's souls, and the offense of the faithful, especially in so difficulte and contagions a time as that was. Wherefore it was not to be suffered, that they, which utterly dissented from all other men in the trade of their living, laws, and customs, should have any parte with them in honor of burial. And therefore the glory of God first and before all things ought to be defended, the infamy (which through this thing riseth on them) with all speed put away, no room at all left unto those persons to rest in, who even in the same places where they lay, were injurious & noisome to the very elements, but the place ought to be purged, and all things so ordered as might be to the satisfying of the consciences of the weak. In executing whereof, so notable an example ought to be given to all men, that no man hereafter should be so bold to attempt the like.

They gave the same verdicte by common assent upon Phagius also. Unto this writing they annexed another by the which they lawfullye authorised Andrew Perne the Uicechauncellour, to be the common factoure for the University. He was a man meerest for the purpose, both for the office that he bare, and also because that by the testimony of Chrystopherson he was deemed to be the moste Catholic of all others. This supplication confirmed by the consent of all the Degrees of the University, and signed with their common seal, the next day, which was the 13. of January, the Uicechauncelour put up to the Commissioners. Note here good reader, what a feat conveyance this was, to suborn the University under a colorable pretence to desire this thing of them by way of petition. As who should say, if they had not done so, the other would never have gone about it of themselves.

But this gloss was soon found out. For the Commissioners had givē the Uicechancellor instructions in writing before. But peradventure they thought by this means to remove the envy of this act from themselves.

Thus the Uicechauncelour came unto the Commissioners according to appointment made the day before, about seven of the clock in the morning. He had scarce declared the cause of his coming, but that he had not only obtained his suit, but also even at the very same time received the sentence of condemnation, for taking up Bucer and Phagius, fair copied out by Ormanet Datarie himself. This was to be confirmed by the consent of the degrees of the University. Whereuppon a solempne Conuocation called congregatio regentium & non regentium for the same purpose was appointed to be at ix. of the clock: where the graduates being assembled together, the demand was propounded concerning the condemnation of Bucer and Phagius, and the grace asked, which was this: Pleaseth it you that M. Bucer for the heresies now recited, and many other by him written, preached, and taught, wherein he died without repentance, and was buried in Christian burial, may be exhumate and taken up again. &c. After this grace eftsoons being granted, then was the Sentence of condemnation drawn by the Datarie, openly red, and immediatelye another grace asked, that the same might be Signed with the Common Seal. The which request was very lightlye and easily obtained. And it was no marvel.

For now after the death of Kinge Edward, since the time that the government of the Realm came to the hand of Queen Mary, all such persons being driven away as had rejected the Romish Religion (in whom well nigh alone rested whatsoever wit and learning was in the whole University besides) such a sort of Raskals were put in their roumes, that all places now swarmed with unlearned and vnnurtured chaplains. To whō nothing was greater pleasure, then to cause all men to speak slander and reproach of Bucer. There were divers yet left among them, that spake against their demands. But they (because, as it commonly cometh to pass, that might overcometh right) could nothing avail. For this is a common custom in all such matters & ordinances, that look what the greater number decreeth, is published in y ^e name of all: and that which the better part disallowed, seemeth as though no man at all disallowed it.

The next day being the 14. of January, all the Uisitors (only Christopherson elect of Chichester excepted) came to the Kings College. Where first going into the Church, and there making their prayers at the gresings, they so proceeded into the stalls, there sitting all the mass time, the company standing in their copes, and singing a solemn Respond in honor of the Uisitors. After the respond done, the Prouost in the best Cope made to them his protestation, unto whom the B. of Chester made answer also in Latin, declaring that he could not perceive to what purpose his protestation was, notwithstanding they would accept it and bear with him. Then went they to Mass, which ended, the Catholic Uisitors approached up to the altar, & took down the Sacrament, & searched the pyx, but first the two Bishops sensed the Sacrament.

Then they went to the reuestry, and opened the Chalices, corporas cases, and crismatory, and viewed all those things. And so re • urnyng into the Prouosts chamber, divided themselves in examination of the Prouost, Uiceprouost, and the rest of the company. The same day D. Bacon M. of Gonwell hall, bad the Uicechauncellor, D. Young, D. Haruy, Swineborne, Maptide with others home to dinner. These men immediately after diner, caused the common seal of the University to be put to the foresaid instrument of condemnation, according as was determined the day before by the general consent of the Graduates of the University. And by and by after, they carried the same to the Commissioners to their lodging. The which when they had received, forasmuch as after more diligent perusing thereof, it liked them not in all points, some things they rased out, some they enterlined, other some they changed: so that in fine, they were fain to take the pain to engross it new again.

To the signing whereof, a congregation was eftsoons called of all the Graduates of the University against the next day, which there being red over, a new grace again was asked and granted for setting to the seal. Thē were the Graduates dismissed, with commandment to resort forthwith to S. Mary Church, whether the Commissioners also repaired. When they had taken their places, D. Harny presented to them before all the company, a new commission to make enquest upon heresy then newly sent from the Cardinal, which was red immediately by Uincent of Noally, Ormanets Clarke. This done, D. Perne (who as ye heard, was factor for the University, exhibited to the cōmissioners in the name of y ^e University y ^e sentence of the foresaid condemnation. The copy and tenor whereof, hereafter (God willing) shall follow. This cōdamnation being openly red, then D. Perne aforesaid desired to send out process to cite Bucer and Phagius to appear, or any other that would take upon them to plead their cause, & to stand to the order of the court against the next Monday: to the intent that when they had exhibited themselves, the Courte might the better determine what ought to be done to them by order of law.

The commissioners condescended to his request, and the next day process went out to cite the offenders. This citation Uincent of Noally their common Notarie, having first red it over before certain witnesses appointed for the same purpose, caused to be fixed up in places convenient, to wit, upon S. Mary church door, the door of the common Schools, and the cross in the market stead of the same town. In this was specified, that whosoever would maintain Bucer and Phagius, or stand in defense of their doctrine, should at the xviij. day of the same month, stand forth before the L. Commissioners, in S. Mary Church, which was appointed the place of judgment, and there every man should be sufficiently heard what he could say. This Commandment was set out with many words.

Shortly after, the matter drew toward Judgment. Therefore the next day before the day limited, which was the xvij. of January, the Uicechauncellor called to him to Peterhouse (whereof he was M.) D. Young, D. Segiswike, & with them Bullock, Taylor, Parker, and Redman, Whitlocke, Mitch, & certain others. These men cast their heds together how they might bear witness against Bucer & Phagius, to convince them of heresy. For seeing the matter was brought in face of open court, & because it might so come to pass, that some Patrones of their cause would come out, they thought it needful to have witnesses to depose of their doctrine. What came of this their cōsultation, it is not perfectly known.

The xviij. day the Uicechauncellor going to the Inquisitors sitting at the Kyngs College, did put them in remembrance, that the same was the day in which by their process sent forth the xvj. day before, they had commanded to appear in S. Mary Church, such as would take upon them to defend Bucer and Phagius by the law. He desired therefore that they would vouchsafe to sit there, if perchance any man would try the adventure of the law. They lightly condescended thereunto. When the Uicechauncellor had brought them thither, he exhibited unto them the process of the Citation which he had received of them to publish a little before, saying, that he had diligently executed whatsoever the contents of the same required. After that they had taken their places, and that no mā put forth himself to answer for the offenders, the Judges called aside D. Yong, D. Segiswike, Bullock, Tailor, Maptide, Hunter, Parker, Redman, above mentioned. Also Brown, Gogman, Rud, Johnson, Mitch, Raven and Carre, who had before written out the burial of Bucer, with a singular commendation of him, and sent it to Sir John Cheeke Knight. These men taking first their oath upon a book, were commanded to bear witness against the heresies and doctrine of Bucer and Phagius. The 22. day of the same month was limited to this Jury to bring in their verdict.

In the mean while, Ormanet and Doctor Watson abode at home in their lodging to take the depositions of them whom we shown you before to have been called to Peterhouse, & to have communicated with the Uicechancellor as concerning that matter, whose depositions (as I told you) never came to light. The B. of Chester and D. Cole this day visited them of Katherine Hall, where, as far as could be learned, nothing was done worthy of rehearsal.

As Ormanet the Popes Datary was sitting at Trinity College, John Dale one of the Queens College came to him, whom he had commanded before to bring with him the pyx, wherein the Bish. of Rome's God of bread is wont to be enclosed. For Ormanet told them he had a precious jewel: the same was a linen cloute that the Pope had consecrated with his own hands, which he promised to bestow upon them for a gift. But Dale misvnderstandyng Ormanet, in stead of the pyx brought a chalice and a singing cake called the host, the which he had wrapped up and put in his bosom. When he was come, Ormanet demanded if he had brought him y ^e thing he sent him for. To whom he answered, he had brought it. Then give it me (quoth he.) Dale pulled out the chalice and the singing cake. When Ormanet saw that, he stepped somewhat back as it had been in a wonder, calling him blockhed, and little better then a mad man, demaundyng what he meant by those things, saying: he willed him to bring none of that gear, and that he was unworthy to enjoy so high a benefit: yet notwithstanding, forasmuch as he had promised before to give it them, he would perform his promise. Whereupon with great reverence & ceremony, he pulled out the linen cloth & laid it in the chalice, and the bread with it, commandyng them both for the holiness of the thing, & also for the author of it, to keep it among them with such due reverence as belonged to so holy a relique.

About the same time the Commissioners had given commandment to the masters of the Colleges, that every man should put in writing what books he had, with the authors names. And to the intent that every mā should execute it without deceit, they took a corporal oth of them. This commandment some executed exactly and diligently other some, for as much as they deemed it wrongful, executed it slack enough.

We declared before that the xviij. day was limited for the day of judgment. Whē the day came▪ and that neither Bucer nor Phagius would appear at their call in y ^e court nor that any put forth himself to defend them: yet the courteous Commissioner would not proceed to judgment, which nevertheless, for their con • umacy in absenting thenselves, they might have done, considering how that day was peremptory. But these men being bent altogether to equity and mercy, had rather show some favor, then to do the uttermost they might by the law. Whereupon Uincent published the second process, and set it up in the same places, as in manner before. The meaning thereof varied not much from the first, but that it put of the judgment day unto the 26. of the same month. Uppon the which day the Uicechauncellor was sent for to their lodging, with whom they agreed concerning the order of publishing the sentence. And because there should want no solemnity in the matter, they commanded him further to warn the Major of the Town to be there at the day appointed with all his Burgesses, which the Uicechauncellour did speed with all readiness.

This day (as I said) was the 26. of January, which being now come, first all degrees of the mother University were assembled. And to fil up this Pageant, thither came also the Major and his townesmen, and all met together in S. Mary Church to behold what there should be determined upon these men. After long attendaunce, at length the Commissioners came forth and went up to a scaffold that was somewhat higher then the residue, prepared for the same purpose. When they had takē their places, D. Perne the Uicechauncellor, the player of this Enterlude, fashionyng his countenance with great gravity, reached to them the process that was lastly published, to cite thē, saying these words: I bring forth again (quoth he) to you right reverend father and Commissioners, of the most reverend my L. Cardinal Poole (payntyng out the rest of his style) this Citation executed according to the purport and effect of the same: omittyng nothing for his part that might make to the commendation of this matter. When he had thus finished his tale, by and by the B. of Chester after he had a little viewed the people, began in manner as followeth.

The Oration of D. Scot B. of Chester, before the condemnation of Bucer and Phagius.

YE see ({quod} he) how sore the University presseth upon us, how earnest intercession it maketh unto us, not only to denounce Bucer and Phagius, which these certain years past have spread most pernicious doctrine among you, to be heretics (as they be in deed) but also that we will command their dead carcasses, which unto this day have obtained honorable burial among you, to be digged up, and as it is excellently ordained by the Canon law to be cast into fire, or whatsoever is more grievous then fire, if any can be. For the degrees of the University deal not slightly nor slackly with us in this case, but do so press upon us, and follow the suit so earnestly, that they scarce give us any respite of delay. And I assure you, albeit this case of it self be such, as that even the unworthiness of those persons, though there were no further cause, ought to induce us to the doing thereof, much the rather moved with these so wholesome petitions, it is meet and convenient we should grant it. For howe soever we of our selves are inclined to mercy in our hearts, (then the which we protest there is nothing under the Sun to us more dear and acceptable) yet notwithstanding, the very law riseth up to revengement, so that the common salvation of you all, which the law provideth for, must be preferred before the private charity of our minds. Neither ought any such negligence to overtake us for our partes, that we being scarce yet escaped out of the shipwreck of our former calamity, should now suffer this vnexpiable mischief, to disquiet any longer the consciences of the weak.

Moreover, it is but reason that we should do somewhat at so earnest intreatance and suit of the University. It needeth not me to speak much of our selves. For if we had been desirous to enterprise this matter, it had been lawful after the first Citation, to have proceeded to judgment: but for because we were willing that their defendours should be heard, and that the matter should be denounced and tried by law, we sent out the seconde process.

If we had desired revengement, we might have shown cruelty upon them that are alive: of the which (alas the more pity) there are too many that embrace this doctrine. If we thirsted for blood, it was not to be sought in withered carcasses and dry bones. Therefore ye may well perceive, it was no part of our wills that we now came hither, but partly induced at the entreaty of the University, partly moved with the unworthiness of the case it self, but especially for the care and regard we have of your health and salvation, which we covet by all means to preserve.

For you yourselves are the cause of this business: you gave occasion of this confession, among whom this day ought to be a notable example, to remain as a memorial to them that shall come after, as in that which ye may learn not only to shake of the filth which ye have taken of these persons, but also to beware hereafter that ye fall no more so shamefully as ye have done. But I trust God will defend you, and give you minds to keep yourselves from it.

As concerning the parties themselves, whose case now hāgeth in law, they bare about the name of the Gospel, where as in deed they wrought nothing else than the every and deceit. And so much the wickeder were they, in that they sought to cover so shameful acts, with the cloke of so fair and holy a name. Wherefore it is not to be doubted, but that God will punish this despite of it self wicked, to you pernicious, by the authors thereof shameful and abhominable.

But if God, as he is slow to wrath and vengeance, will wink at it for a time, yet notwithstanding, if we upon whom the charge of the Lord's flock leaneth, should permit so execrable crimes to escape unpunished, we should not live in quiet one hour.

When he had thus spoken, he recited the sentence out of a scroll, and condemned Bucer and Phagius of heresy: the form and tenor of which sentence, framed after y ^e barbarous rude style of that church, thus followeth.

The sentence of condemnation against M. Bucer, and Paulus Phagius.

NOs Cutbertus Dei & Apostolicae sedis gratia Episcopus Cestrensis, Nicolaus Ormanetus, Archiepiscop. plebis Bodoloni Veronen. diocesis infra scripti, Reuerendi Domini Cardinalis & Legati auditor, Thomas Watson Decanus Dunelmens. & Henricus Cole, Praepositus Collegij Etonens. ad Vniuersitatem studij generalis oppidi Cantabrigien. Elien. diocese. visitand. Necnon ad in quibuscunque causis in eodem oppido Cantabrigiae, & locis ei adiacen. commorantes personas, motis, & mouendis, inquirendum & quomodolibet procedendum, & express ad eorum, qui in heresy decesserint, memoriam damnandum, per literas illustris. ac Reuerendis. in Christo patris, D. Reginaldi Mariae in Cosmedin, S. Romanae Ecclesiae Presbyteri Cardinalis Poli nuncupati, sanctis. Domini nostri Papae & sedis Apostolicae ad Serenis. Philippum ac Serenis. Mariam Angliae Regem & regi nā & vniuersū Angliae regnū de latere Legati, Commissarij, sieve delegati specialiter deputati, & ad huiusmodi peragendum sufficienti facultate muniti, saluatoris & Domini nostri Jesus Christi nomine inuocato, pro tribunali seden. & solum Deum qui iustus est Dominus prae oculis habentes, per hanc nostram diffinitiuam sententiam, quam de sacrae Theology, & Iurisperitorum consilio erimus, in his scriptis, in causa & causis, quae coram nobis inter Vicecancellarium & Vniuersitatem Cantabrigien. denunciatores ex vna, & iniquitatis filios q • ondam Martinum Bucerum & Paulum Phagium, natione Germanos, & in hoc oppido olim commorantes & decedentes, reos denunciatos de & super crimine haeresis notorie per eos, dum vixerint, incurso, rebusque alijs in actis causae & causarum huiusmodi latius deductis, ex altera, partibus, in prima versae fuerunt & vertuntur instantia, pronunciamus, sententiamus, decernimus, & declaramus praedictos.

Martinum quidem Bucerum contra regulas & dogmata sanctorum patrum, necnon Apostolicas Romanae Ecclesiae, & sacrorum conciliorum traditions, Christianaeque religions, hactenus in Ecclesia consuetos ritus ac processus (qui singulis annis die coenae domini per Romanos Pontifices celebrari & legi consueuerunt, in quibus, inter alia, Wickleffistae, & Lutherani, & omnes alij haeretici damnati, & an athematizati fuerunt) de Sacramentis Ecclesiae, praesertim circa illorum numerum, aliter quam sancta mater Ecclesia praedicat & obseruat, sentiendo, & docendo, ac sanctae sedis Apostolicae, & summi Pontificis primatum, & authoritatem negando, & publice damnando, & praesertim hunc articulum.

The effect of Doctor Pernes Sermon against M. Bucer.

OVer and besides this oration & sentence of D. Scot, came in also D. Perne Vicechancellour, with his sermon tendyng to the same effect, to the deprauyng of Master Bucer, taking for his theme the place of the 132. Psalm: Behold how good & pleasant a thing it is. &c.

Where beginning first with the commendation of concord, and of the mutual knittyng together of the minds, he alleged, that it was not possible to hold together, unless the concord were derived out of the hed, the which he made to be the B. of Rome, and that it also rested in the same.

After he had made a long protestatiō hereof, he passed forth to Bucer, upon whom he made a shameful railing, saying: that his doctrine gave occasion of division in the common wealth, & that there was not so grievous a mischief, which by his means had not been brought into the realm.

Although all men might perceive by the books he had compiled, what manner of Doctrine it was: yet notwythstanstyng (he said) he knew it more perfectly himself, then any did, and that he had learned it apart at the Authors hand himself.

For at such time as they had communication secretly among themselves, Bucer (said he) would oftentimes wish he might be called by some other name, then by the name he had: for this purpose, as though knowing himself guilty of so grievous a crime, he might by this means escape unknown to the world, and avoid the talk that went among men of him.

Moreover, among other things he told how Bucer held opinion (which thing he should confess to him his own self) that God was the author and wellspring, not only of good, but also of evil: and that whatsoever was of that sort, flowed from him, as from the headspring and maker thereof. The which doctrine he upheld to be sincere: howbeit, for offending diverse men's consciences, he durst not put it into men's heads.

Many other things he patched together of like purport and effect, as of the supremacy of the Bish. of Rome, of the marriage of Priests, of diuorcements, and of shameful usury also, as though he had deemed the same lawful to be used among christen people, with diverse other of the like sort.

In all which his allegations, considering how lewdly without all shame he lied vpō Bucer (as his writings evidently declare) he did not so much hinder his name with railing upon him, as win unto himself an inexpiable infamy, by forging so shameful leesings upon so worthy a man.

But what needeth witness to prove him a liar? his own conscience shall make as much against him, as a number of men.

It was reported for a truth, and that by his own familiar friends testified, that the said D. Perne himself, eiter immediately after his Sermon, or else somewhat before he went to it, strikyng himself on the breast, and in a manner weeping, wished at home at his house with all his heart, that God would grant his soul might even then presently depart and remain with Bucer's. For he knew well enough that his life was such, that if any man's soul were worthy of heaven, he thought his in especially to be most worthy.

Whiles he was thus talking to the people, in y ^e mean time the leaves of the Church doors were covered over with verses: in the which the young men to show their folly, which scarce knew him by sight, blased Bucer's name with most reproachful Poetry.

These things being dispatched, Perne (as though he had sped his matter maruelously well) was for his labor, of courtesy bidden to dinner to Trinity College by the Commissioners. Where, after the Table was takē up they caused the sentence of condemnation to be copied out with all speed: which being signed with the B. of Chesters seal, the next day following was for a triumph sent to London, with diverse of those verses and slanderous Libels.

Besides this, they sent also their own letters, wherein they both advertised the Cardinal how far they had proceeded in that matter, and also desired his Grace that he would cause to be sent out of hand to Smith the Major of the Town, the Commandment, commonly called a Writte for the burning of Heretics. For unless he had the Queens warrant to save him harmless, he would not have to do in the matter: and that which remained to be done in that case, could not be dispatched till that Warrant came.

Whiles this pursiuant went on his journey, they willed to be brought unto them the books that they commanded before to be searched out. For they determined to throw them into the fire with Bucer and Phagius.

About the same time D. Watson taking occasion upon the day, because it was a high feast, in the which was wont to be celebrated the memorial of the Purification of the blessed Virgin, made a Sermon to the people upon that Psalm: We have received thy mercy (O Lord) in the midst of thy Temple, &c. In the which Sermon he spake much reproach of Bucer and Phagius, and of their doctrine.

He said, that these men, & all the heretics of our time that were of the same opinion (the which for the most part he said, were budded out of Germany) among other things which they had perniciously put into men's heds, taught to cast away all Ceremonies. Whereas notwithstanding the Apostle himself commanded all things to be done in due order.

And upon that deed of the blessed Virgin and Joseph which was done by them as upon that day, it was manifestly apparent, that they with our Savior being then a little babe, observed these rites and ceremonies for catholic men to teach. For he said, that they came to the Temple the same time with wax Candles in their hands, after the manner of procession (as they term it) in good order with much reverence and devotion, and yet we were not ashamed to laugh and mock at these things with the heretics and schismatics.

As he was telling his tale of Christ, Mary, and Joseph, one of them that heard him, a pleasant & merry conceited fellow, turning himself to him that stood next him, and if it be true (quoth he) that this man preacheth, which of them I pray you (if a man might spurr him a question) bare the cross before them? for that might not be missing in such solemn ceremonies. Not only this man jested at the Preachers folly, but diverse other also laughed at his manifest vnshamefastnes, in preaching these so vain and foolish superstitions.

While he was thus talking to his audience, John Christopherson elected B. of Chichester, being strikē with a sudden sickness, fell down in a sound among the press, & with much ado, being scarce able a good while to come to himself again, in the mean time babled many things unadvisedly, and as though he had been out of his wits. Some thought it came upon this occasion, because he had been greatly accused before the Commissioners for mispēdyng & misordering the goods of the College, & therefore was grieved with the matter, knowing that they had ben offended with him, by that that Ormanet had canceiled before his face a Lease of his, by the which he had let to ferme to his brother in law a certain Manor of that college, because the covenants seemed unreasonable.

By this time was returned again the Pursiuaunt, who (as we before told) was sent to London with the Commissioners letters, and brought with him a warrant for the burning of these men.

Upon the receipt whereof, they appointed the vi. day of Febr. for the accomplishment of the matter. For it had hanged already a great while in hand.

Therefore when the said day was come, the Commissioners sent for the Uicechancellor, demandyng of him in what case things stood, whether all things were in a readiness for the accomplishment of this business, or no. Understandyng by him that all things were ready, they commanded the matter to be broached out of hand.

The Uicechancellor therefore taking with him Marshall the common Notary, went first to Saint Michaels church where Phagius was buried. There he called forth Andrew Smith, Henry Sawyer, and Henry Adams, mē of the same parish, and bound them with an oth, to dig up Phagius bones, and to bring them to the place of execution. Marshall took their oaths, receiving the like of Roger Smith and W. Hasell the Town Sergeants, & of I. Capper, Warden of the same Church, for doing the like with Bucer. Smith the Major of the town, which should be their executioner, (for it was not lawful for them to intermeddle in cases of blood) commanded certain of his Townsmen to wait upon him in harness, by whō the dead bodies were guarded, and being bound w ^t ropes, and laid upon men's shoulders (for they were enclosed in Chestes, Bucer in the same that he was buried, and Phagius in a new) they were borne into the midst of the Market stead, with a great trayne of people following them.

This place was prepared before, and a great Poste was set fast in the ground to bind the Carcasses to, and a great heap of Woode was laid ready to burn them withal.

When they came thither, the Chestes were set up on ende with the dead bodies in them, and fastened on both sides with stakes, and bound to the Post with a long iron Chayne, as if they had been alive. Fire being forthwith put too, as soon as it began to flame round about, a great sort of books that were condemned with them, were cast into the same.

There was that day gathered into the town, a great multitude of countreyfolke (for it was market day) who seeing men borne to execution, and learning by inquiry that they were dead before, partly detested and abhorred the extreme cruelty of the commissioners toward the rotten carcasses, and partly laughed at their folly in making such preparature. For what needeth any weapon, said they? As though they were afraid that the dead bodies which felt them not, would do them some harm? Or to what purpose serveth that Chayne wherewith they are tied, sithence they might be burnt loose without peril? for it was not to be feared that they would run away.

Thus everybody that stood by, found fault with the cruelnesse of the deed, either sharply, or else lightly, as every man's mind gave him. There were very few that liked their doing therein.

The purpose of D. Watson's Sermon against Martin Bucer.

IN the mean time that they were a rostyng in the fire, Watson went into the Pulpit in S. Mary Church, and there before his audience railed upon their doctrine, as wicked and erroneous, saying: that it was the ground of all mischief that had happened of a long time in the common weal. For behold (said he) as well the prosperity as the adversity of these years that have ensued, and ye shall find that all things have chanced vnluckely to them that have followed this new found faith: as contrary all things have happened fortunately to them that have eschewed it. What robbyng and pollyng (quoth he) have we seen in this Realm, as long as Religion was defaced with sects, the common treasure (gathered for y ^e maintenance of the whole public weal) and the goods of the Realm shamefully spent in waste for the maintenance of a few folks lusts, all good order broken, all discipline cast aside, holy-days appointed to the solemnising of ceremonies neglected: and that more is, the places themselves beaten down, flesh and other kind of prohibited sustenance eaten everywhere upon days forbidden, without remorse of conscience, the priests had in derision, the mass railed upon, no honor done to the Sacraments of the church: all estates and degrees given to such a licentious liberty without check, that all things may seem to draw to their utter ruin and decay.

And yet in the mean time the name of the gospel was pretended outwardly, as though that for it men ought of duty to give credit to their erroneous opinions: where as in deed there is nothing more discrepant, or more to the slander of God's word then the same. For what other thing taught they to remain in that most blessed & mystical Sacrament of the body of our Lord, then bare unleavened bread? And what else do the remnaunt of them teach unto this day? Whereas Christ by express words doth assure it to be his very body. Howe perilous a doctrine is that which concerneth the fatal and absolute necessity of Predestination? And yet they set it out in such wise, that they have left no choice at all in things. As who should say, it skilled not what a man purposed of any matter, sithens he had not the power to determine otherwise then the matter should come to pass. The which was the peculiar opinion of them, that made God the author of evil, bringing men thorough this persuasion into such a careless security of the everlasting eternity, that in the mean season it made no matter either toward salvation, or toward damnation, what a man did in this life. These errors (which were not even among the Heathen men) were defended by them with great stoutness.

These and many such other things he slanderously & falsely alleged against Bucer, whose doctrine (in such sort as he himself taught it) either he would not understand, or else he was minded to slander. And yet he was not ignorant, that Bucer taught none other things then the very same whereunto both he and Scotte in the reign of K. Edward the vi. had willingly assented by subscribyng thereto with their own hands. While he talked in this wise before the people, many of them that had writ̄ verses before, did set up other new, in the which like a sort of waterfrogges, they spewed out their venomous malice against Bucer and Phagius. This was the last act of this Enterlude, and yet there remained a few things to be done, among the which was the reconciling of two churches, of our Lady, & of S. Michael, which we declared to have been enterdicted before.

This was done the next day following, by the aforesaid B. of Chester, with as much ceremonial solemnity as the law required. But that impanate God, whom Bucer's carcass had chased from thence, was not yet returned thither again: neither was it lawful for him to come there anymore, but if he were brought thither with great solemnity. As I suppose, during all the time of his absence, he was entertained by the Commissioners at Trinity College, and there continued as a Soiourner. For thither came all the Graduates of the University, the 8. of February, of gentleness and courtesy, to bring him home again. Amongst the which number, the Bish. of Chester (worthy for his estate to come nearest to him, because he was a B.) took and carried him clad in a long Rochet, and a large Tippet of Sarcenet about his neck, wherein he wrapped his Idol also. Ormanet Datarie had given the same a little before to the University, for that and such like purposes.

When this Idol should return home, he went not the straightest and nearest way as other folks are wont to go, but he fetched a compass about the most part of the town, and romed through so many of the streets, that it was a large hour and more, ere he could find the way into his Church again. I believe the ancient Romaines observed a custom not much unlike this in their process • on, when they made supplications at the shrines of all their God's. The order of which procession was this: the masters Regents went before singing with a loud voice: Salue festa dies. &c. Next then followed the B. of Chester, about him went Ormanet and his fellow Commissioners, with the masters of the colleges, bearing every mā a long Taper light in his hand. After whom a little space of, followed other degrees of the University. Last behind came the Major and his Townsmen. Before them all went the Bedles, crying to such as they met, that they should bow themselves humbly before the host. If any refused so to do, they threatened to send him forthwith to the Tolboth. Their God being led with this pomp, and pacified with great sacrificed Hosts of Bucer & Phagius, at length settled himself again in his accustomed room.

Scot of Chester prayed with many words, that that day might be lucky and fortunate to himself, and to all that were present, and that from that day forward (now that God's wrath was appeased, and all other things set in good order) all men would make themselves conformable to peace & quietness, namely, in matters appertainyng to Religion. After this they bestowed a few days in punishing and amercyng such as they thought had deserved it. Some they suspended from giving voices either to their own preferment, or to the preferment of any other. Some they forbade to have the charge of pupils, least they should infect the tender youth (being pliable to take what print soever should be laid upon them) with corrupt doctrine and heresy, others they chastised wrongfully without any desert, and many a one they punished, contrary to all right and reason.

Last of all they set forth certain statutes, by y ^e which they would have the university hereafter ordered. Wherein they enacted many things as concerning the election of their Officers of the University, of keeping and administryng the goods of the University, and of many other things. But especially they handled the matter very circumspectly for religion. In the which they were so scrupulous, that they replenished all things, either with opē blasphemy, or with ridiculous superstition. For they prescribed at how many Masses every man should be day by day, and how many Pater nosters and Auies every man should say when he should enter into the Church, and in his entrance, after what sort he should bow himself to the alter, and how to the master of the house, what he should do there, and how long he should tarry, how many, & what prayers he should say, what, and how he should sing, what meditations other should use while the Priest is in his Memento, mumbling secretly to himself, what time of the Mass a man should stand, and when he should sit down, when he should make courtesy, when exclusiuely, when inclusively, and many other superstitious toys they decreed that it was a sport then to behold their superstitions, and were tedious now to recite them.

Moreover, these masters of good order, for fashions sake, ordained that every man should put on a surples, not torn nor worn, but clean, forbidding them in any wise to wipe their noses thereon.

These things thus set at a stay, when the Commissioners were now ready to go their ways, the University for so great benefits (which she should not suffer to fall out of remembrance many years after) couetyng to show some token of courtesy towards them again, dignified Ormanet and Cole with the degree of Doctorship for all the residue, saving Christopherson, who now, by reason he was elected Bishop, preuentyng that degree, had received that order before. Thus at length were sent away these peacemakers that came to pacify strifes and quarrels, who through prouokyng every mā to accuse one another left such gaps and breaches in men's harts at their departure, that to this day they could never be closed nor joined together again.

These Commissioners, before they departed out of the University, gave commandment, that the Masters of every house should copy out their Statutes, the which beside common Ordinaunces, contained in them certain Rules of private Order, for every House particularly. Swinborne (who as I said, was M. of Clarehall) being demanded whether he would have those things engrossed in parchment or in paper, answered that it made no matter wherein they were written: For the Paper, or a sleighter thing that were of less continuance then Paper, would serve the turn well enough: For he said, a slenderer thing then that, would last a great deal longer then those dercees should stand in force. Neither was the man deceived in his conjecture: For within two years after, God beholding us with mercy, called Queen Mary out of this life, the 17. day of November, an. 1558. After whom her sister ELIZABETH succedyng in y ^e kingdom, raised to life again the true religion. Whereupon as the church of Christ began by little & little to flourish. So the memory of Bucer and Phagius (although their bones were burnt by Cardinal Poole) was restored again by this godly Queen ELIZABETH, who gave then in Commission to Math. Parker then Archbishop of Canterbury, and to Edmund Grindall then Bishop of London, to Master Gwalther Haddon and others: For the performaunce of which Commission, the said Reverend Bishops addressed their Letters to the Uicechancellor, &c.

The Epitaph or funeral verse of D. Redman, upon the death of Mayster Bucer.

The despiteful handling and madness of the papists toward Peter Martyrs wife at Oxford, taken up frō her grave at the commandment of Cardinal Poole, and after buried in a dunghill.

ANd because the one Uniuersity should not mock the other, like cruelty was also declared upon the dead body of Peter Martyrs wife at Oxford, an honest, grave, and sober matron, while she lived, and of poor people always a great helper, as many that be dwelling there, can right well testify. In the year of our Lord. 1552. she departed this life, w ^t great sorrow of all those needy persons, whose necessities many times & often she had liberally eased and relieved. Now, when Brokes Bishop of Gloucester, Nicholas O • manner Datary, Robert Morwen President of Corpus Christi College, Cole and Wright Doctors of the Civil Law, came thither as the Cardinals visitours, they among other things had in Commission to take up this good woman again out of her grave, and to consume her carkas with fire, not doubting but that she was of y ^e same religion that her husband had professed before, whē he read the Kings lecture there. And to make a show that they would do nothing disorderly, they called all those before thē that had any acquayntance with her or her husband. They ministered an oath unto them that they should not conceal whatsoever was demanded. In fine, their answer was that they knew not what religion she was of, by reason they understood not her language.

To be short, after these visitours had sped their business they came for, they 〈◊〉 them to the Cardinal again, certifying him that upon due inquisition made, they could learn nothing, upon which by the law they might burn her. Notwithstanding the cardinal did not leave the matter so, but wrote down his Letters a good while after to Marshall, then Dean of Frideswides that he should dyg her up, and lay her out of Christian burial, because she was interred nigh unto S. Frideswides relics, sometime had in great reverence in that College. Doct. Marshal like a pretty man calling his Spades and mattockes together in the evening, when he was well whitled caused her to be taken up, and buried in a dunghill.

Howbeit, when it pleased God under good Queen Elizabeth, to give quietness to his Church, long time persecuted with prison and death, then Doctor Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury, Edmund Grindall Bishop of London, Richard Goodricke, with diverse other her Majesty's high Commissioners in matters Religion (nothing ignorant howe far the adversaries of the truth had transgressed the boūdes of all humanity, in violating the sepulcher or grave of that good and virtuous woman) willed certain of that College, in the which this uncourteous touch was attempted and done, to take her out of that unclean & dishonest place where she lay, & solemnly in the face of the whole town, to bury her again in a more decent & honest monumēt. For though of the body being once dead, no great estimatiō were to be had, how or where the bones were laid: yet was some reverence to be used toward her for sex and womanhood sake. Besides, to say the truth, it was great shame, that he which had traveled so far at king Edward's request, from the place wherein he dwelt quietly, and had takē so earnest pains, being an old man, in reading and setting forth the truth all he could, with learning to teach and instruct, and so well deserved of that Uniuersity: should with so ungentle a recompense of ingratitude be rewarded again, as to have his wife, that was a godly woman, a straūger, good to many, especially to the poor, and hurtful to none, either in word or deed, without just deserving, & beside their own law, not proceeding against her according to the order thereof, spitefully to be laid in a stinking dunghill.

To all good natures the fact seemed odious, & of such as be endued with humanity, utterly to be abhorred. Wherefore M. Calfield, then Subdeane of the College, diligently provided, that from Marshals dunghill she was restored and translated to her proper place again, yea & withal coupled her with Frideswides boanes, that in case any Cardinal will be so mad hereafter to remove this womans bones again, it shall be hard for thē to discern the bones of her from the other. And because to the intent the same might be notified to the minds of men the better, the next day after, which was Sunday, M. Rogerson preached unto the people, in which Sermon by the way he declared the rough dealing of the adversaries, which were not contented to practice their cruelty against the living, but that they must also rage against one that was dead, and had lien 2. years in her grave. God grant thē once to see their own wickedness. Amen.

And thus much touching the noble acts and straungenes of this worthy Cardinal in both y ^e universities: whereunto it shall not be impertinent, here also consequently to adjoin and set forth to the eyes of the world, the blind and bloody articles set out by Cardinal Poole, to be inquired vpō within his diocese of Canterbury, whereby it may the better appear what yokes and snares of fond & fruitless traditions were laid upon the poor flock of Christ, to entangle and oppress them with loss of life and liberty. By the which wise mē have to see what godly fruits proceeded from that catholic Church and See of Rome. In which albeit thou seest (good Reader) some good Articles insparsed withal, let that nothing move thee: for else how could such poysō be ministered, but it must have some honey to relish the readers taste.

Here follow the articles set forth by Cardinal Poole, to be inquired in his ordinary visitation, within his Dioces of Canterbury.

A History of ten Martyrs condemned and burned within the Dioces of Canterbury, for the testimony of Jesus Christ, and truth of his Gospel.

MEntion was made a little before of the persecution in Kent, pag. 1860. Where we declared, that fiftene were in the Castle of Canterbury imprisoned and condemned for God's word. Of the which fiftene moreover we shown & declared five to be famished unto death within the said castle, and buried by the high way, about the beginning of November. The other ten, in the first month of the next year following, which was the year of our Lord. 1557. were committed unto the fire, and there consumed to ashes, by Thornton, called Bishop or Suffragane of Dover, otherwise called Dicke of Dover, and by Nicholas Harpsfield the Archdeacon of the said Province.