Acts and Monuments Volume 2 Part 1

How Cromwell helped a poor woman with child, out of great trouble, longing for a piece of meat in time of Lent.

And shortly after his Landlord sent for him. But before that he sent for him, he had sent for the bishop of London's Sumner, whose name was Hollōd, & whē this Frebarne was come, he demanded of him, if he had not a pig in his house, which he denied not. Then commanded Mayster Garter the said Sumner called Hollond, to take him, and go home to his house, and to take the Pygge, and carry both him and the Pigge unto Doctor Stokesley his Mayster, being then Bishop of London, & so he did. Then the Bishop being in his chamber, with diverse other of the Clergy, called this Frebarne before him, and had him in examination for his pigge, laying also unto his charge, that he had eaten in his house that lent, poudred beefe and Calves heads. Unto whom Frebarne answered. My Lord, if the heads were eaten in my house, in whose houses were the bodies eaten? Also if there be either man or woman that can prove, that either I, or any in my house hath done as your Lordship saith, let me suffer death therefore. You speak (said he) against pilgrimages, and will not take holy bread, holy water, nor yet go on Procession on Palme Sunday: Thou art no Christian man. My Lord, said Frebarne, I trust I am a true Christian man, & have done nothing neither against God's law nor my princes.

In the time of this his examination, which was during the space of two hours, diverse came unto the bishop, some to have their childrē confirmed, & some for other causes. Unto whom as they came, having the pig before him covered, he would lift up the cloth and show it them, saying: How think you of such a fellow as this is? is not this good meat, I pray you, to be eaten in this blessed time of Lent, yea and also poudred Beefe and Calves heads too beside this?

After this the Bishoppe called his Sumner unto him, and commanded him to go and carry this Thomas Frebarne and the pig openly thorough the stre • tes, into the old Bayly, unto Syr Roger Chomley, for the Bishop said, he had nothing to do to punish him, for that belonged unto y ^e civil magistrates, and so was Frebarne carried w ^t the pyg before him, to sir Roger Chomleis house in the old Bailey, & he being not at home at that time, Frebarne was brought likewise back again unto the bishops place with the pig, and there lay in the porters lodge till it was 9. a clock at night. Then the bishop sent him unto the Counter in the Poultry by the Sumner and other of his servants.

The next day being Saturday, he was brought before the Major of London & his brethren, unto Guild hall, but before his coming, they had the pig delivered unto them by the Bishops officer. Then the Major and the Benche laid unto his charge (as they were informed from the Bishop) that he had eaten poudred beefe and Calves heads in his house the same Lent, but no man was able to come in that would justify it, neither could anything be found, save only the Pig, which (as is before said) was for the preservation of his wives life, and that she went withal. Notwithstanding the Major of London said, that the Monday next following, he should stand on the Pillary in Cheapeside, with the one half of the pig on the one shoulder, and the other half on the other.

Then spake the Wyfe of the said Frebarne unto the Major and the Benche, desiring that she might stand there, and not he, for it was long of her and not of him. After this they took a satten list, & tide it fast about the pigs neck, and made Frebarne to carry it hanging on his shoulder until he came unto the Counter of the Poultry, from whence he came.

After this was done, the Wyfe of this Prisoner took with her an honest woman, the Wyfe of one Michael Lobley, which was well acquainted with diverse in the Lord Cromwelles house, unto whom the said woman resorted for some help for this prisoner, desiring them to speak unto their Lord and Mayster for his deliverance out of trouble.

It happened that the same time came in Doctor Barns and Mayster Barlowe, who understanding the matter by Lobleys wife, went up to the Lord Cromwell, and certified him thereof: who upon their request, sent for the Major of the City of London: but what was said unto the Lord Major, is unknown, saving that in the after noon of the same day, • he wife of the person aforesaid resorted again unto the Lord Major, suyng to get her husband delivered out of prison, declaring how that she had 2. small children, and had nothing to help her and them, but only her husband, who labored for their livings. Unto whom the Major answered, what come ye to me? You are taken up with the Kings Counsel. I supposed that you had come to desire me that your husband should not stand upon the Pillary in Cheapeside on Monday next, with the one half of the pyg on his one shoulder and the other half on the other▪ Also the Major said unto her, that he could not deliver him without the consent of the rest of his brethren the Aldermen. Wherefore he bade her the next day following, which was Sunday, to re • ort unto Paul's to Saint Dunstones Chapel, and when he had spoken with his brethren, he would then tell her more. Other answer could she get none at that time. Wherefore she went unto M. Wilkenson, then being Sheriff of London, desiring him to be good unto her, and that she might have her poor husband out of prison. Unto whom M. Wilkenson answered: O woman▪ Christ hath laid a piece of his cross upon thy neck, to prove whether thou wilt help him to bear it or no, saying moreover to her, that if the Lord major had sent him to his Counter, as he sent him to his brothers, he should not have tarried there an hour, and so commanded her to come the next day unto him to dinner, and he would do y ^e best for her he could. So the next day came, & this woman resorted again to M. Wilkensōs, according as he bad her, who also had bid̄ diverse gestes: unto whō he spake in her behalf But as they were set at dinner, and she also sitting at the table, whē she saw the hot fish come in, she felt down in a swound, so that for the space of two hours the could keep no life in her. Wherefore they sent her home to her house in Pater noster row, and then they sent for the Midwife, supposing that she would have been delivered incontinent of her child that she went with, but after that she came somewhat again to herself, where she lay sick and kept her bed the space of xv. weeks after, being not able to help her self, but as she was helped of others, during the time of xv. weeks.

Now to show further what became of this Pig, whereof we have spoken so much, it was carried into Finsburye field by the Bishop of London's Sumner, at his masters commandment, and there buried. The Monday following, being the fourth day after that this prisoner aforesaid was apprehended, the Major of London, with the residue of his brethren being at Guild hall, sent for the prisoner aforenamed, and demanded sureties of him for his forth coming, what so ever hereafter should or might be laid unto his charge, but for lack of such suretyes as they required upon his own band, which was a Recognisaunce of twenty pound, he was delivered out of their hands. But shortly after that he was delivered out of this his trouble, master Garter, of whom we have spoken before, being his landlord, warned him out of his house, so that in four years after, he could not get another, but was constrained to be within other good folks, to his great hindrance and undoing.

Hard it were and almost out of number to rehearse the names and stories of all them, which felt the gentle help of this good man in some case or other. Where might be remembered the notable deliverance of one Gray, a Smyth of Bishops Starford, who being accused for denying y ^e sacrament of the altar to be our Savior, was sent up for the same to Londō and there should have been condemned to be burnt, but that by the means of the L. Cromwell, he was sent home again and delivered. One other example, though it be somewhat long with the circumstances and all, I will declare, how be helped the Secretary that thē was to Doctor Cranmer Archbishop of Canterbury, which Secretary is yet alive, and can bear present record of the same.

How the Lord Cromwell helped Cranmer's Secretary.

MEntion was made before how king Henry in y ^e year of his reign 21. caused the 6. Articles to pass, much against the mind and contrary to the consent of the Archbishop of Canterbury Thomas Crāmer, who had disputed three days against the same in the Parliament house, with great reasons and authorities. Which Articles after they were granted and past by the Parliament, the king for the singular favor which he ever bare to Cranmer, and reverence to his learning, being desirous to know what he had said and objected in the Parliament against these Articles, or what could be alleged by learning against the same, required a note of the Archbishop of his doings, what he had said and opposed in the Parliament touch •• g that matter. And this word was sent to him from the king by Cromwell, and other Lord's of the Parliament whom the king then sent to dine with him at Lambeth, somewhat to comfort again his grieved mind, and troubled spirits as hath been above recited. pag, 1136.

Wherupon when his dinner was finished, the next day after the Archbishop collecting both his arguments, authorities of scriptures, and Doctors together, caused his Secretary to write a fair book thereof for the king, after this order. First the Scriptures were alleged, then the Doctors, thirdly followed the Arguments deducted from those authorities. This book was written in his Secretaryes Chamber. Where, in a by Chamber lay the Archbishops Almosiner. When this book was fair writ̄, and whiles the Secretary was gone to deliver the same unto y ^e Archbishop his master, who was (as it then chanced) rydde to Croydon: returning back to his chamber, found his door shut, and the key carried away to London by the Almosiner.

At this season also chanced the father of the said Secretary to come to the Citty, by whose occasion it so • ell out, that he must needs go to London. The book he could not lay into his chamber, neither durst he commit it to any other person to keep, being straitly charged in any cōditiō of the Archbishop his master, to be circumspect thereof, so that he determined to go to his father and to keep the book about him. And so th • usting the book under his girdle, he went over unto Westminster bridge with a sculler, where he entered into a whirry that went to London, wherein were 4. of the Garde, who meant to land at Paul's wharfe and to pass by the kings highness, who then was in his Barge with a great number of Barges and boates about him, then baiting of Bears in the water over against the bank.

These foresaid yeomen of the gard, when they came against the kings Barge, they durst not pass by towards Paul's wharfe, least they should be espied, & therefore entreated the Secretary to go with them to the Bearebayting, and they would find the means being of the garde to make room and to see all the pastime, the Secretary perceiving no other remedy, assēted thereto. Whē the whirry came nye the multitude of the boats, they with pollaxes got in the whirry so far, that being compassed with many other whirryes and boates there was no refuge if the Bear should break loose and come upon them, as in very deed within one pater noster while, the Bear brake lose and came in to the boat where the yeomen of the gard were and the said Secretary. The gard forsook the wherry and went into another barge, one or two of them leaping short, and so fell into the water. The Bear and the dogs so shaked the whirry wherein the Secretary was, that the boat being full of water, soncke to the ground, & being also as it chanced an ebbing tide, he there sat in the end of y ^e whirry up to y ^e middle in water. To whō came the Bear and all the dogs. The Bear seeking as it were aide and succor of him, came back with his hinder parts upon him and so rushing vpō him, the book was loosed frō his girdle and fell into the Thames out of his reach.

The flying of the people, after that the bear was lose, from one boat to another, was so comberous, that diverse persons were thrown into the Thames, the king commanding certain men that could swim, to strip them selves naked and to help to save them that were in danger. This pastime so displeased the king that he bad away away, with the Bear, and let us all go hence.

The Secretary perceiving his book to fleet away in the Thames, called to the Beareward to take up y ^e book, When the Beareward had the book in his custody, being an errant Papist, far from the Religion of his Mystres (for he was the Lady Elizabethes Beareward, now the Que • nes majesty) ere that the Secretary could come to land, he had delivered the book to a Priest of his own affinity in Religion standing on the bancke, who reading in the book and perceiving that it was a manifest refutation of the 6. Articles, made much a do and told the Beareward that whosoever claimed the book, should surely be hanged. Anone the Secretary came to the Beareward for his book. What quoth the Beareward, dare you challenge this book? Whose servant be you? I am servant to one of the Coūsell, said the Secretary, and my Lord of Canterbury is my master. Yea mary, quoth the Beareward, I thought so much. You belike I trust, quoth the Beareward, to be both hanged for this book. Well (said he) it is not so evil as you take it, and I warrant you my L. will avouch the book to the kings Majesty. But I pray you let me have my book, and I will give you a Crown to drink. If you would give me v.C. crowns, you shall not have it, quoth the Beareward. With that y ^e Secretary departed from him, & understanding the malicious frowardness of the Beareward, he learned that Blage the Grocer in Cheapeside might do much with the Beareward, to whom the Secretary brake this matter, requiring him to send for the Beareward to supper, and he would pay for y ^e whole charge thereof, and besides that rather thē he would forgo his book after this sort, the Beareward should have xx. shillinges to drink. The supper was prepared. The Beareward was sent for, and came. After supper the matter was entreated of and xx. shillings offered for the book. But do what could be done, neither friendship, acquaintance, nor yet reward of money could obtain the book out of his hands, but that the same should be delivered unto some of the Counsel that would not so slightly look on so weighty a matter, as to have it redeemed for a supper or a piece of money. The honest man M. Blage with many good reasons would have persuaded him not to be stiff in his own conceit, declaring that in the end he should nothing at all prevail of his purpose, but be laughed to scorn, getting neither penny nor praise for his travel. He hearing that, rushed suddenly out of the doors from his friend M. Blage without any manner of thanks giving for his supper, more like a Beareward then like an honest man. Whē the Secretary saw y ^e matter so extremely to be used against him, he then thought it expedient to fall from any farther practicing of entreaty with the Beareward, as with him that seemed rather to be a Bear himself then the Master of the beast, determining the next morning to make the L. Cromwell privy of the chance that happened.

So on the next day, as the Lord Cromwell went to y ^e Court, the Secretary declared the whole matter unto him & how he had offered him xx.s for the finding thereof. Wher is the fellow, quoth the Lord Cromwell? I suppose, said the Secretary, that he is now in the Court attēding to deliver the book unto some of the Counsel. Well said the Lord Cromwell, it maketh no matter: go with me thither and I shall get you your book again. When the Lord Cromwell came into the hall of the Court, there stood the Beareward with the book in his hand, waiting to have delivered the same unto Syr Anthony Brown, or unto the Bishop of Winchester, as it was reported. To whom the Lord Cromwell said, come hither fellow. What book hast thou there in thy hand? and with that snatched the book out of his hand, and looking in the book, he said, I know this hand well enough. This is your hand, said he to the Secretary. But where haddest thou this book, quoth the Lord Cromwell to the Beareward? This Gentleman lost it two days ago in the Thames said the Beareward. Doest thou know whose servant he is, said the Lord Cromwell? He saith, quoth the Beareward, that he is my Lord of Canterburies servant. Why then dyddest not thou deliver to him the book, whē he required it, said the L. Cromwell. Who made thee so bold as to detein and withhold any book or writing from a Coūsellers servant, specially being his Secretary? It is more meter for thee to medle with thy Bears thē with such writing, & it were not for thy masters sake, I would set thee fast by the feet, to teach such malepert knaves to meddle with Counsellers matters. Had not money been well bestowed upon such a good fellow as this is, that knoweth not a Counselors man frō a Cobblers man? And with those words the Lord Cromwell went up into the kings chamber of presence and the Archbishops Secretary with him, where he found in the chamber the Lord of Canterbury. To whō he said, my Lord I have found here good stuff for you (showing to him the paper book that he had in his hand) ready to bring both you & this good fellow your mā to the halter, namely if the knave Beareward now in the Hall, might have well compassed it. At these words the Archbishop smiled and said, he that lost the book is like to have the worse bargayne, for besides that he was well washed in the Thames, he must write the book fair again: & at those words the Lord Cromwell cast the book unto the Secretary saying, I pray thee Morice go in hand therewith by & by with all expedition, for it must serve a turn. Surely my Lord, it somewhat rejoiceth me, quoth the L. Cromwell, that the verlet might have had of your man xx. s. for the book, and now I have discharged the matter with never a penny. And shaking him well up for his overmuch malepar • nes, I know the fellow well enough (quoth he) there is not a rancker Papist within this realm, thē he is, most unworthy to be servant unto so noble a Princesse. And so after humble thanks given to the Lord Cromwell, the said Morice departed with his book, which when he again had fair written, was delivered to the kings Majesty by the said Lord Cromwell, within 4. days after.

*The Lord Cromwell not forgetting his old friends and benefactors.

IT is commonly seen, that men advanced once from base degree, to ample dignities do rise also with fortune into such insolency and exaltatiō of mind, that not only they forget themselves what they were, & from whence they came but also cast out of remembrance all their old friends and former acquayntance, which have been to them before beneficial. Frō which sort of men, how far the courteous condition of this christen Earl did differ, by diverse examples it may appear As by a certain poor woman keeping some time a vitailing house about Hownsloe, to whom the said Lord Cromwell remained in debt for certain old reckonings, to y ^e sum of xl.s. It happened that the L. Cromwell with Cranmer Archbishop of Canterbury, riding thorough Cheapeside toward the Court, in turning his eye over the way, and there espying this poor woman, brought now in need & misery, eftsones caused her to be called unto him. Who being come, after certain questions asked of her if she were not such a womā, and dwelling in such a place. At last he demanded, if he were not behind for a certain payment of money between him and her. To whō she with reverent obeisance, confessed that he ought her money for a certain old reckoning which was yet vnpayd, whereof she stood now in great necessity, but never durst call vpō him nor could come at him for to require her right. Thē the L. Cromwell sending the poor woman home to his hou • e▪ and one of his servants withal, that the Porter should see her in, after his return from the Court, not only discharged the debt which he ought, but also gave her a yearly pension of four pounds, and a livery every year while she lived.

The like curtesy the said L. Cromwell shown also to a certain Italian, who in the city of Florence, had shown him much kindness in succoring and relieving his necessity as in this story following may appear. Which story set forth and compiled in the Italian tongue by Bandello, & imprinted at Luke by Busdrago, an. 1554. I thought here to insert, with the whole order and circumstance thereof, as it is reported.

Not many years past, saith the author, there was in Florence a merchant whose name was Francis, descended from the noble & ancient family of the Frescobaldes: this Gentleman was naturally endued with a noble & liberal mind, unto whom also through prosperous success and fortunate luck in his affairs and doings, much abundance of riches increased, so that he grew in great wealth, having his cofers replenished w ^t many heaps of much treasure. He according to the custom Marchantes, used his trade into many countries, but chiefly into England, where long time he lived soiourning in London, keeping house to his great commendation and praise.

It happened, that Francis Frescobald being in Florence, there appeared before him a poor young man, asking his alms for God's sake. Frescobald as he earnestly beheld this ragged stripling, who was not so disguised in his tottered attire, but that his countenance gave significatiō of much towardness & virtue in him, with comformity of manners agreing to the same, being moved with pity, demanded of what country he was, & where he was borne. I am Syr (quoth he) of England, & my name is Thomas Cromwell. My father is a poor man, & by his occupation a cloth sherer. I am straied from my country, and am now come into Italy with the campe of frenchmē, that were overthrown at Gatilyon, where I was the page to a footman, carrying after him his pike and burganet. Frescobald partly considering the present state of this young man, and partly for the love he bare to the english natiō, of whom he had received in times past sundry pleasures, received him into his house, & with such curtesy interteined his gest, as at his departure whē he was in mind to return to his country, he provided such necessaries as he any way needed. He gave him both horse & new apparel, & 16. duckats of gold in his purse, to bring him into his country. Cromwell rendering his hearty thanks, took leave of his host & returned into England. This Cromwell was a man of noble courage & heroical spirit, given to enterprise great matters, very liberal, a grave Counselor, &c. But to our purpose.

At what time Cromwell was so highly favored of his prince, and advanced to such dignity as is aforesaid, Frāces Frescobald (as it many times happeneth unto Merchants) was by many misfortunes and great losses, cast back and become very poor. For according to conscience and equity, he paid whatsoever was due to any other frō himself, but such debts as were owing unto him, he could by no means obtain: yet calling further to remembrance that in England by certain merchants there was due to him the sum of 15000. ducates, he so purposed with himself, that if he could recover that money, he would well content himself, and no longer deal in the trade of merchants but quietly pass over the rest of his days.

All things prepared for his journey, he setting forward towards England, at last arrived at London, having utterly forgotten what courtesy long before he had shown to Cromwell, which is the property always of a good nature, for a man to forget what benefits he hath shown to other, but to keep in mind continually what he hath received of other. Frescobald thus being now ariued at London, and there traveling earnestly about his business, it chanced him by the way to meet with this noble man, as he was riding toward the court. Whome, as soon as the said lord Cromwell had espied, and had earnestly beheld, he bethought with himself that he should be the man of Florence, at whose hands in times past he had received so gentle entertainment, and thereupon suddenly alighting (to the great admiration of those that were with him) in his arms he gently embraced the stranger, and with a broken voice scarce able to refrain tears, he demanded if he wer not Frances Frescobald the Florētine. Yea sir (he answered) and your humble servant. My servant (quoth Cromwell? ) no, as you have not been my servant in times past, so will I not now account you otherways then my great and especial friend, assuring you that I have just reason to be sory, that you knowing what I am (or at the least what I should be) will not let me understand of your arriuyng in this land, which known unto me, truly I should have paid part of that debt which I confess to owe you: but thanked be God I have yet time. Well sir, in conclusion, you are hartilie welcome. But having now weighty affairs in my princes cause, you must hold me excused, that I can no longer tarry with you. Therefore at this time I take my leave, desiring you with the faithful mind of a friend, that you forget not this day to come to my house to dinner, and then in remounting on his horse, he passed to the Court. Frescobald greatly meruailing with himself who this Lord should be, at last after some pause, his remembrance better called home, he knew him to be the same, whom long before (as you have heard) he had relieved in Florence, and thereat not a little joyed, especially considering how that by his means he should the better recover his duty.

The hour of dinner drawing near, he repaired to the house of this honorable Counselor, where walking a while in his base Court, he attended his coming. The Lord shortly returned from the Court, and no sooner dismounted, but he again embraced this Gentleman with so friendly a countenance, that both the Lord Admiral and all the other noble men of the Court being then in his company, did not a little marvel thereat.

Which thing when the Lord Cromwell perceived, he turning towards them, and holding Frescobald fast by the hand: do ye not marvel my Lord's (quoth he) that I seem so glad of this man? This is he by whose means I have achieved the degree of this my present calling: and because ye shall not be ignorant of his courtesy when I greatly needed, I shall tell it you: and so there declared unto them everything in order, according as before hath been recited unto you. His tale finished, holding him still by the hand, he entered his house, and coming into the Chamber where his dinner was prepared, he sat him down to the Table, placing his best welcomed guest next unto him.

The dinner ended, and the Lord's departed, he would know what occasion had brought Frescobald to London. Francis in few words opened his cause, truly telling, that from great wealth he was fallen into poverty, and that his only portion to maintain the rest of his life, was xv. thousand Ducates which were owyng him in england and two thousand in Spain. Whereunto the lord Cromwell answeryng again, said, touching the things Master Frescobald that be already past, although it cannot now be undone by man's power, nor by pollicye called again, which hath happened unto you by the unstable condition and mutability of this world altering too and fro: yet is not your sorrow so peculiar to yourself alone, but that by the bond of mutual love, I must also bewail with you this your state and condition, which state and condition of yours, though it may work in you matter of just heaviness, yet notwithstanding, to the intent you may receive in this your heavy distress some consolatiō for your old courtesy shown to me in times past, the like courtesy now requireth of me again, that I likewise should repay some portion of that debt wherein I stand bound unto you according as the part of a thankful man byndeth me to do in requiting your benefits on my part heretofore received. And this further I avouch in the word of a true friend that during this life and state of mine. I will never fail to do for you, wherein my authority may prevail to supply your lack and necessity. And so let these few words suffice to give you knowledge of my friendly meaning. But let me delay the time no longer.

Then taking him by the hand, he led him into his chamber, whence, after that every man by his commandment was departed, he locked fast the door. Thē opening a coffer full heaped with treasure, he first took out sixtene Ducates, and deliueryng them to Frescobald, he said: loe here (my friend) is your money which you lent me at my departure from Florence, and here other ten which you bestowed in my apparel, with ten more that you disbursed for the horse I rid away on. But considering you are a merchant, it seemeth to me not honest to return your money without some consideration for the long detainyng of it. Take you therefore these 4. bags, and in every of them is 400. ducates, these you shall receive and enjoy from the hands of your assured friend.

Frescobald, although from great wealth he was brought to a low ebb, and (almost) an utter decay, yet expressyng the virtue of a modest mind, after gentle thanks given to the Lord Cromwell for his exceeding kyndnesse shown, courteously would have refused that which was offered, had not the other enforced him against his will to receive it.

This done, he caused Frescobald to give him a note of the names of all his debtors, and the sum that from every of them was owyng him. This scedule he delivered to one of his servants, unto whom he gave charge diligently to search out such men whose names therein was contained, if they were within any part of the realm, & then straightly to charge them to make payment of those sums within fiftene days, or else to abide the hazard of his displeasure. The servant so well performed his masters commandment, that in very short time they made payment of the whole sum: and if it had lyked Frescobald so to have demanded, they should have answered to the uttermost such commodity, as the use of his money in so many years would have given him profit: but he contented with his principal, would demand no further. By which means he gate both hearty love and great estimation, and the more, for that he was so dear to the Lord Cromwell, and so highly esteemed of him.

And during all this time, Frescobald continually lodged in the house of the lord Cromwell, whoever gave him such entertainment as he had right well deserved, and oftentimes moved him to abide in England, offering him the lone of 60000. Ducates, for the space of 4. year, if he would continue and make his bank in Londō. But Frescobald, who desired to return into his country, and there quietly to continue the rest of his life, with the great favor of the Lord Cromwell, after many thanks for his high and noble entertainment, departed towards his desired home, where richly arriving, he gave himself quietly to live. But this wealth he small time enjoyed, for in the first year of his return he died.

So plentiful was the life of this man in such fruits full of singular gratitude and courtesy, that to rehearse all, it would require too long a tractation. Yet one example amongst many other I may not overpass, whereby we may evidently consider or rather marvel at the lowly mind of such a person, in so high a state and place of honor. For as he coming with other of the Lord's of the Counsayle and Commissioners, to the house of Shene, about the examination of certain Monks which there denied y ^e kings supremacy, after the examination done was there sitting at dinner, it chanced him to spy a far off, a certain poor man which there served to sweep their Sels and cloister, and to ring the bells. Whome when the Lord Cromwell had well advised, he sent for the poor man to come unto him, and before all the table most lovingly and friendly, calling him by his name, took him by the hand, and asked how he did, with many other good words, and turning therewith to the Lord's: My Lord's (quoth he) see you this poor man. This man's father hath been a great friend to me in my necessity, and hath given me many a meals meat. Then said he unto the poor man, come unto me and I will provide for thee, and thou shalt not lack so long as I live. Such as were there present and saw and heard the same, report it to be true.

In this worthy and noble person, besides diverse other eminent virtues, iii. things especially are to be considered to wit, flourishing authority, excelling wisdom and fervent zeal to Christ and to his Gospel. First, as touching his fervent zeal in setting forward the sincerity of Christian faith, sufficient is to be seen before by the injunctions proclamations, and articles above specified, that more cannot almost be wished in a noble man, and scarce the like hath been seen in any.

Secondly, for his wisdom and policy no less singular, joined with his christen zeal, he brought great things to pass, as well on this side the sea as in the other partes beyond. But especially his working was to nourish peace abroad with foreign realms, as may well by the kings letters and instructions sent by his means to his Ambassadors resident both with the Emperor the French king and the king of Scots, and also with y ^e Pope appear. In all whose courts, such watch and espiall he had, that nothing there was done, nor pretended, whereof he before had not intelligence. Neither was there any spark of mischief kindling never so little against y ^e king and the realm, which he by wit and policy did not quench and keep down. And where policy would not serve to obtain peace, yet by money he bought it out: so that during all the time of Cromwell's prosperity, the king never had war with any foreign nation: notwithstanding, that both the Pope, the Emperor, the kings of France and Scotland were mightily bent and incensed against him.

Thus, as the prudent policy of this man was ever circumspect abroad, to stay the Realm from foreine wars: so his authority was no less occupied in keeping good order and rule at home: First, in hampering the popish prelates and disappointing their subtle devises: secondly, in bridling and keeping other unruly subjects under subjection and discipline of the laws. Whereby, as he was a succor and refuge to all godly persons, so was he a terror to the evil doers: so that not the presence of him only, but also the hearing of the coming of Cromwell brake many fraies, and much evil rule: as well appeared by a certain notorious fray or riot, appointed to be fought by a company of ruffins in the street of London called Pater noster row. Where cartes were set on both sides of purpose, prepared to enclose them, that none might break in to part them. It happened, that as this desperate skirmish should begin, the Lord Cromwell coming the same time from the Court through Paul's churchyard, and entering into Chepe, had intelligence of the great fray toward, and because of the carts he could not come at them, but was forced to go about the little conduit, and so come upon them through Pannier Alley.

Thus as the conflict began to wax hot, and the people were standing by in great expectation to see them fight, suddenly at the noice of the Lord Cromwell's coming, the campe brake up and the Ruffins to go, neither could the cartes keep in those so courageous campers, but well was he that first could be gone. And so ceased this tumultuous outrage, without any other parting, only through the authority of the Lord Cromwell's name.

One example more of the like affinity cometh here in mind, which ought not to be omitted, concerning a certain serving man of the like ruffenly order, who thinking to disc • uer himself from the common usage of all other men in strange newfanglenes of fashions by himself (as many there be whom nothing doth please, which is daily seen and received) used to go with his hair hanging about his ears down unto his shoulders, after a strange monstrous manner, counterfeiting belike the wyld Irish men, or else Crinitus Ioppas, which Uirgil speaketh of, as one weary of his own English fashion: or else as one ashamed to be seen like a man, would rather go like a woman, or like to one of the Gorgon sisters, but most of all like to himself, that is, like to a Ruffin, that could not tell how to go.

As this Ruffin ruffling thus with his locks was walking in the streets, as chance was, who should meet him but the Lord Cromwell, who beholding the deform and unseemly manner of his disguised going, full of much vanity and hurtful example, called the man to question with him whose servant he was, which being declared, then was demanded, whether his master or any of his felows used so to go with such hair about their shoulders as he did, or no? Which when he denied, and was not able to yield any reason for refuge of that his monstrous disguising, at length he fell to this excuse that he had made a vow. To this the Lord Cromwell answered again, that for so much as he had made himself a votary, he would not force him to break his vow, but until his vow should be expired, he should lie the mean time in prison, and so se • te him immediately to the Marshalsey: where he endured, till at length this intonsus Cato being persuaded by his master to cut his hair, by suit and petition of friends, he was brought again to the Lord Cromwell with his hed polled according to the accustomed sort of his other fellows, and so was dismissed.

Hereunto also pertaineth the example of frier Bartley, who wearing still his friers cowl after the suppression of religious houses, Cromwell coming thorough Paul's churchyard, and espieng him in Rheines his shop, yea said he, will not that cowl of yours be left of yet? And if I hear by one a clock that this apparel be not changed, thou shalt be hanged immediately for example to all other. And so putting his cowl away, he never durst wear it after.

If the same Lord Cromwell which could not abide this serving man so disfigured in his hair, were now in these our days alive with the same authority, which then he had, and saw these new fangled fashions of attire, used here amongst us both of men and women, I suppose verily, that neither these monstrous ruffes, nor these prodigious hose, and prodigal or rather hyperbolical barbarous breeches (which seem rather like barels then breeches) would have any place in England. In which immeasurable excess of vesture, this I have to marvel: first how these serving men, which commonly have nothing else but their wages, and that so slender and bare, cā maintain such slops, so huge and so sumptuous, which commonly stand them in more, then their three years wages do come unto. Secondly I marvel, that their masters and Lord's (who shall yield to God account of their servants doings) do not search and try out their servants walks, how they come by these expenses, wherewith to uphold this bravery, seeing their stipendary wages, and all revenues else they have, will not extend thereunto. Thirdlye, this most of all is to be marveled, that magistrates which have in their hands the ordring and guiding of good laws do not provide more severely for the needful reformation of these enormities. But here we may well see, & truly this may say that England once had a Cromwell.

Long it were to recite what innumerable benefits this worthy Counselor by his prudent policy, his grave authority and perfect zeal wrought and brought to pass in the public Realm, and especially in the Church of England, what good orders he established, what wickedness and vices he suppressed, what corruptions he reformed, what abuses he brought to light, what crafty iuglings what idolatrous deceptions, and superstitious illusiōs he detected and abolished out of the Church. What posterity will ever think the Church of the Pope pretendyng such religion, to have been so wicked, so long to abuse the people's eyes, with an old rotten stock (called the Rood of grace) wherein a man should stand enclosed with an hundredth wyers within the rood, to make the Image goggle with the eyes, to nod with his head, to hang the lip, to move and shake his jaws according as the value was of the gift which was offered? If it were a small piece of silver, he would hang a frowning lip, if it were a piece of gold, then should his jaws go merrily. Thus miserablye was the people of Christ abused, their souls seduced, their senses beguiled, and their purses spoiled, till this Idolatrous forgery at last, by Cromwell's means was disclosed, and the image with all his engines shown openly at Paul's cross, and there torn in pieces by the people. The like was done by the blood of Hales, which in like manner by Cromwell was brought to Paul's cross, & there proved to be the blood of a ducke.

Who would have judged, but that the maid of Kent had been an holy woman and a prophetess inspired, had not Cromwell and Cranmer tried her at Paul's cross to be a strong whore.

What should I speak of Daruel Gartheren, of the rood of Chester, of Thom. Becket, our Lady of Walsingham, with an infinite multitude more of the like affinity? All which stocks and blocks of cursed idolatry, Cromwell stirred up by the providence of God, removed out of the people's way, that they might walk more safely in the sincere service of almighty God.

While the Lord Cromwell was thus blessedly occupied in profiting the common wealth, and purging y ^e church of Christ, it happened to him, as commonly it doth to all good men, that where any excellency of virtue appeareth, there envy creepeth in, and where true piety seeketh most after Christ, there some persecution followeth withal.

Thus (I say) as he was laboring in the commō wealth and doing good to the poor afflicted saints, helping them out of trouble, the malice of his enemies so wrought, continually hunting for matter against him, that they never ceased, till in the end th • y by false trains and crafty surmises, brought him out of the kings favor.

The chief and principal enemy against him, was Stephen Gardener bishop of Winchester, whoever disdaining and enuieng the state and felicity of the Lord Cromwell, and now taking his occasion by the marriage of lady Anne of Cleue, being a stranger and foreigner, put in the Kings ears what a perfect thing it were for the quiet of y ^e realm, and establishment of the kings succession, to have an English Queen and Prince that were mere English: so that in conclusion the kings affection, the more it was diminished from the late married Anne of Cleue, the less favor he bare unto Cromwell. Besides this Gardener, there lacked not other back friends also and ilwillers in the court about the king, which little made for Cromwell both for his religion which they maligned, and for other private grudges also incident by the way.

Ouer and besides all which, it is moreover supposed, that some part of displeasure might rise against him, by reason of a certain talk, which happened a little before at Lambeth, at what time the king after the making of the vi. Articles, sent the said Lord Cromwell his Uicegerēt, with the two Dukes of Norfolk & Suffolk, with all the Lord's of the Parliament to Lambeth, to dyne with the Archbishop (who mightily had disputed and alleged in the Parliament against the said Articles) to cheare and comfort his daunted spirits again.

There the said Cromwell with the other noble Lord's sitting with the Archbishop at his table in talk, as every lord brought forth his sentence in commendation of Cranmer, to signify what good will both the king & they bare unto him: among the rest one of the company entering into a comparison between the said Thomas Cranmer, and Thomas Wolsey late Cardinal of York, declared in his judgment, that Cranmer was much to be preferred for his mild and gentle nature, where as the Cardinal was a stubborn and a churlish prelate, and one that could never abide any noble man, and that (said he) know you well enough, my Lord Cromwell, for he was your Master, &c. At these words the Lord Cromwell being somewhat touched to hear the Cardinals service cast in his teeth, inferred again, saying: that he could not deny but he was servant sometime to Cardinal Wolsey, neither did repent the same, for he received of him both fee, meat, and drink, and other commodities: but yet he was never so far in love with him, as to have waited upon him to Rome, if he had been chosen Pope, as he understood that he would have done if the case had so fallen out. Which when the other had denied to be true, Cromwell still persisted, affirming the same, and showing moreover what number of Florins he should have received, to be his Admiral, and to have safe conducted him to Rome, in case he had been elected Bishop of Rome. The party not a little moved with these words, told him, he lied. The other again affirmed it to be true. Upon this, great and high words rose between them. Which contention although it was through entreaty of the Archbishop and other nobles somewhat pacified for the time, yet it might be, that some bitter root of grudge remained behind, which afterward grew unto him to some displeasure. And this was, an. 1540. in the month of July. Ex testimonio, Secretarij. Cantuar.

After this, the next year following, which was 1541. in the month of April was holden a Parliament, which after diverse prorogations was continued till the month of July the said year. In the which month of July, the Lord Cromwell being in the counsel chamber, was suddenly apprehended, and committed to the tower of London. Whereat, as many good men which knew nothing but truth by him did lament, and prayed heartily for him, so moe there were on the contrary side that rejoiced, especially of the religious sort, and of the clergy, such as had been in some dignity before in the Church, and now by his means were put from it. For in deed, such was his nature, that in all his doings he could not abide any kind of Popery, nor of false religion creepyng under hypocrisy, and less could abide the ambitious pride of Popish Prelacie, which professing all humility, was so elated in pride, that kings could not rule in their own Realms for them. These snuffing Prelates as he could never abide so they again hated him as much, which was the cause of shortnyng his days, and to bring him to his ende: So that the xix. day of the month aforesaid, he was attainted by Parliament.

In the which Atteinder diverse and sundry crimes surmises, objections and accusations were brought against him but chiefly and above all other, he was charged and accused of heresy, for that he was a supporter of them (whō they recounted for heretics) as Barns, Clarke, and many other, whom he by his authority and letters written to Sheriffs and Justices in diverse Shires rescued and discharged out of prison. Also that he did euulgate & disperse abroad amongst the Kings subjects, great numbers of books, conteming (as they said) manifest matter of much heresy, diffidence, and misbelief. Item, that he caused to be translated into our English tongue, books comprising matter expressly against the Sacrament of the altar, & that after the translation thereof, he commended and maintained the same for good and Christian doctrine·

Ouer and besides all this, they brought in certain witnesses (what they were, the atteinder expresseth not) which most especially pressed (or rather oppressed) him with heinous words spoken against the king in the Church of s. Peter the poor, in the month of March, in the xxx. year of the kings reign. Which words if they be true, as the Atteinder doth purport three things I have here much to marvel at. First, if his adversaries had so sure hold and matter against him, then what would move thē to make such hasty speed in all post haste, to have him dispatched and rid out of the way, and in no case could abide him to come to his purgation? Which if he might have done, it is not otherwise to be thought, but he would easily have clered himself thereof.

Secondly, this I marvel, that if the words had been so heinous against the king, as his enemies did pretend, why then did those witnesses which heard those words in S. Peters Church, in the xxx. year of the kings reign, conceal the said words of such treason so long, the space almost of ii. years, and now uttered the same in the xxxij. year of the kings reign, in the month of July.

Thirdly, here is again to be marueled, if the king had known or believed these words to be true, and that Cromwell had been in deed such a traitor to his person, why then did the king so shortly after lament his death, wishing to have his Cromwell alive again? What Prince will wish the life of him whom he suspecteth undoubtedly to be a traitor to his life and person? whereby it may appear what judgment the King had of Cromwell in himself, howsoever the parliament by sinister information was otherwise incensed to judge upon him.

Such malicious makebates about Princes and parliaments, never lacked in common weals. By such king Ethelstane was incensed to kill his brother Edwin, pag. 159. So was king Edward 2. deposed. So likewise when king Richard 2. was once brought into the Tower, what crimes and accusations were laid against him in the Parliament? So was Humfrey the good Duke of Gloucester, the kings uncle, by Henry Beauford bishop of Winchester and other in the Parliament holden at Bery, arrested as a traitor, and falsely made away, pag. 160. What great treason was in the words of him, who dwelling in Chepe side at the sign of the Crown, said merrily to his son, that if he lived, he would make him heir of the crown: & yet was he therefore atteinted and judged for a Traitor? pag. 701. In the time of king Henry the 8. how was that Parliament incensed, wherein both Queen Anne was falsely condemned, and Queen Elizabeth her daughter, as falsely disherited? To omit here the Attainder of the Duke of Buckingham wrought by the Cardinal of York: Of the lord Cobham likewise, and sir Roger Acton, pag. 150 If the cause of the lord Henry late Earl of Surrey were well tried out, peradventure no such heinous purpose of any treasō should be found therein as than was made. Who incensed y ^e late Duke of Somerset to behead his own brother, but such makebates as these? And afterward whē the said Duke himself was attainted for a traitor and condemned for a felon, a briber and extorcioner: how was the parliament then incensed? Adam Damlip received of Cardinal Poole at Rome, but a seely crown in way of alms, and therefore by means of Stephen Gardener was atteinted for a traitor. George Egles did but read some time in woods and by the said Gardener was also condemned and suffered as a traitor.

Not that I here speak or mean against the high courts of Parliamentes of this our Realm, necessarilye assembled for the common wealth, to whom I always attribute their due reverence and authority. But as it happeneth sometimes in general Councils, which though they be never so general, yet notwithstanding sometimes they may and do err in weighty matters of religion: so likewise they that say, that Princes and Parliaments may be misinformed sometimes, by some sinister heds, in matters civil and politic, do not therein derogate or impair the high estate of parliaments, but rather give wholesome admonition to princes and parliament men, to be more circumspect and vigilant what counsel they shall admit, and what witnesses they do credit. For private affection which commonly beareth a great stroke in all societies & doings of men, creepeth sometimes into such general Councils, and into Princes Courtes also, either to much amplifying things that be but small, making mountains of molehills, or else to much extenuating things that be of themselves great and weighty, according as it is truly said of the Poete Iuuenal: Dat veniam cornis, vexat censura columbas, or as our English Proverb showeth: As a man is friended, so is his matter ended: And where the hedge, is low, a man may lightly make large leaps: or rather to speak after the French phrase: Qui son chien veult tuer, la rage luy met sus. That is: He that is disposed to have his dog killed, first maketh men believe that he is mad. And thus much having declared touching the matter of his accusation, the rest I refer to the high Parliament of that mighty king, who shall one day bring all things to perfect light.

In the mean season, howsoever the cause of the Lord Cromwell standeth, true or false, this is certain, that Stephen Gardener lacked not an head, nor yet privy assisters, which cunningly could fetch this matter about, and watch their time, when as the king being disposed to marry another wife, which was the Lady Katherine Hawarde, immediately after the beheading of the Lord Cromwell, did repudiate Lady Anne of Cleue, which otherwise is to be thought during the life of Cromwell, could not so well be brought to pass.

But these things being now done and past, let us pass them over and return again from whence we digressed, that is to the lord Cromwell being now atteinted & committed to the Tower. Who so long as he went with full sail of fortune, how moderately, and how temperatly he did ever bear himself in his estate, before hath ben declared. So now the said lord Cromwell, always one man, by the contrary wynd of adversity being ouerblowen, received the same with no less constancy, and patience of a Christian heart. Neither yet was he so unprovided of counsel and forecast, but that he did foresee this tempest long before it fell, and also prepared for the same for two years before smelling the cōspiracie of his adversaries, & fearing what might happen, he called unto him his servants, and there showing unto them in what a slippery state he stood, and also perceiving some stormy weather already to gather, required them to look diligently to their order and doings, least through their default any occasion might rise against him. And furthermore, before the time of his apprehension, such order he took for his servants, that many of them, especially the younger brethren which had little else to take unto, had honestly left for thē in their friends hands to relieve them, whatsoever should him befall.

Briefly, such a loving and kind master he was to his servants, that he provided aforehand almost for them all: In so much, that he gave to twelve children which were his Musicians, twenty pound a piece, and so committed them to their friends. Of whom some yet remain alive, who both enjoyed the same, and also give record of this to be true.

Furthermore, being in the tower a prisoner, how quietly he bare it, how valiantly he behaved himself, how gravely and discretely he answered and entertained the commissioners sent unto him, it is worthy noting. Whatsoever articles and interrogatories they propounded, they could put nothing unto him, either concerning matters ecclesiastical or temporal, wherein he was not more ripened, and more furnished in every condition then they them selves.

Amongst the rest of those Commissioners which came unto him: one there was, whom the Lord Cromwell desired to carry for him a letter to the king, which when he refused, saying that he would carry no letter to the king from a traitor: then the Lord Cromwell desired him at least to do from him a message to the king. To that the other was contented, and granted, so that it were not against his allegiance. Then the Lord Cromwell taking witness of the other Lord's, what he had promised: You shall commend me (said he) to the Kyng, and tell him: By that he hath so well tried, and thoroughly proved you as I have done, he shall find you as false a man as ever came about him.

Besides this, he wrote also a letter from the Tower to the king, whereof when none durst take the carriage upon him, sir Rafe Sadler (whom he also had preferred to the king before, being ever trusty & faithful unto him) went to the king to understand his pleasure, whether he would permit him to bring the letter or not. Which, when y ^e king had granted, the said M. Sadler as he was required, presented the letter unto the king, which he commanded thrice to be red unto him, in so much the king seemed to be moved therewith.

Notwithstanding, by reason of the Acte of parliament afore passed, the worthy and noble Lord Cromwell oppressed by his enemies, and condemned in the Tower, and not coming to his answer, the 28. day of July, an. 1541. was brought to the scaffold on Tower hill, where he said these words following.

I am come hither to die, and not to purge myself, as some think peradventure that I will. For if I should so do, I were a very wretch and a miser. I am by the law condemned to die, and thank my lord God that hath appointed me this death for mine offense. For sithens the time y ^t I have had years of discretion. I have lived a sinner, and offended my Lord God, for the which I ask him hartelie forgiveness. And it is not unknown to many of you, that I have been a great traveler in this world, & being but of a base degree, was called to high estate, and sithens the time I came thereunto, I have offended my Prince, for the which I ask him heartily forgiveness, and beseech you all to pray to God with me, that he will forgive me. And now I pray you that be here, to bear me record. I die in the catholic faith, not doubting in any Article of my faith no, nor doubting in any sacrament of the church. Manye have slandered me, and reported that I have been a bearer of such as have maintained evil opinions, which is untrue. But I confess, that like as God by his holy spirit doth instruct us in the truth, so the devil is ready to seduce us, & I have been seduced, but bear me witness that I die in the catholic faith of the holy church. And I heartily desire you to pray for the kings grace, that he may long live with you in health and prosperity: and that after him his son prince Edward that goodly imp, may long reign over you. And once again I desire you to pray for me, that so long as life remaineth in this flesh, I waver nothing in my faith. And so making his prayer, kneeling on his knees he spake these words, the effect whereof here followeth.

A prayer that the Lord Cromwell said at the hour of his death.

O Lord Jesus, which art the only health of all men living, and the everlasting life of them which die in thee: I wretched sinner do submit myself wholly unto thy most blessed will, and being sure that the thing cannot perish which is committed unto thy mercy, willingly now I leave this frail and wicked flesh in sure hope that thou wilt in better wise restore it to me again at the last day in the resurrection of the just. I beseech thee, moste merciful lord Jesus Christ, that thou wilt by thy grace make strong my soul against all temptations, and defend me with the buckler of thy mercy against all the assaults of the devil. I see and knowledge that there is in myself no hope of salvation, but all my confidence, hope and trust, is in thy most merciful goodness. I have no merits nor good works, which I may allege before thee. Of sins and evil works (alas) I see a great heap: but yet thorough thy mercy I trust to be in the number of them to whom thou wilt not impute their sins: but wilt take and accept me for righteous and just, and to be the inheritor of everlasting life. Thou merciful lord wast borne for my sake, thou didst suffer both hunger and thirst for my sake: thou didst teach, pray, and fast for my sake all thy holy actions and works thou wroughtest for my sake: thou suffredst most grievous pains and torments for my sake: finally, thou gavest thy most precious body and thy blood to be shed on the cross for my sake. Now most merciful Savior, let all these things profit me, that thou freely hast done for me, which hast given thyself all so for me. Let thy blood cleanse and wash away the spots and foulness of my sins Let thy righteousness hide and cover my unrighteousness. Let the merits of thy passion and bloudsheding be satisfaction for my sins. Geue me Lord thy grace that the faith of my salvation in thy blood waver not in me, but may ever be firm and constant. That the hope of thy mercy and life everlasting never decay in me, that love wax not cold in me. Finally, that the weakness of my flesh be not overcome with the fear of death. Grant me merciful Savior, that when death hath shut up the eyes of my body, yet the eyes of my soul may still behold and look upon thee, and when death hath taken away the use of my tongue, yet my heart may cry and say unto thee: Lord into thy hands I commend my soul, Lord Jesus receive my spirit. Amen.

And thus his prayer made, after he had godly & lovingly exhorted them that were about him on the scaffold, he quietly committed his soul into the hands of God, and so patiently suffered the stroke of the axe, by a ragged and butcherly miser, which very ungodly performed the office.

Of the Bible in English printed in the large volume, and of Edmund Boner preferred to the Bishoprike of London, by the means of the Lord Cromwell.

ABout the time and yere, when Edmund Boner bishop of Hereford, & ambassador resident in France, begā first to be nominate & preferred by the means of the lord Cromwell to the bishopric of London: which was, anno. 1540. it happened that the said Thomas Lord Cromwell and Earl of Essex, procured of y ^e king of england his gracious letters to the French king to permit and license a subject of his to imprint the Bible in English within the university of Paris because paper was there more meet and apt to be had for the doing thereof, then in the realm of England, & also that there were more store of good workmen for the ready dispatch of y ^e same. And in like manner at the same time the said king wrote unto his ambassador, who then was Edmund Boner Bishop of Herford lying in Paris, that he should aid and assist the doers thereof in all their reasonable suits. The which Bishop outwardly shown great friendship to y ^e merchants that were the imprinters of the same, and moreover did diverse and sundry times call and command the said persons, to be in manner daily at his table both dinner and supper, and so much rejoiced in the workmanship of the said Bible, that he himself would visit the imprinters house, where the same bibles were printed, & also would take part of such dinners as the Englishmen there had, and that to his cost, which, as it seemed he little weighed. And further the said Boner was so fervent that he caused the said Englishmen to put in print a new testament in english & latin, and himself took, a great many of them and paid for them & gave them to his friends. And it chanced the mean time, while the said Bible was in printing, the king Henry the 8. preferred the said Boner from the said bishopric of Herford, to be bishop of Londō, at which time y ^e said Boner according to the statute law of England, took his oath to the king, knowledging his supremacy, and called one of y ^e aforesaid Englishmen that printed y ^e bible, whom he then loved, although afterward upon the change of the world he did hate him as much, whose name was Richard Grafton: to whom the said Boner said when he took his oath, master Grafton, so it is, that the kings most excellent majesty hath by his gracious gift presented me to the Bishopric of London, for the which I am sory, for if it would have pleased his grace, I could have been well content to have kept mine old bishopric of Herford. Then said Grafton I am right glad to hear of it, and so I am sure will be a great number of the City of London: for though they yet know you not, yet they have heard so much goodness of you frō hence, as no doubt they will heartily rejoice of your placing. Then said Boner, I pray God I may do that may content them, and to tell you M. Grafton. Before god (for that was commonly his oath) the greatest fault that. I ever found in Stokesley, was for vexing and troubling of poor men, as Lobley the bookebinder and other, for having the scripture in english, and God willing he did not so much hinder it, but I will as much further it, and I will have of your Bibles set up in the Church of Paul's, at the least in sundry places six of them, and I will pay you honestly for them and give you hearty thanks. Which words he then spake in the hearing of diverse credible persons, as Edmund Style Grocer, and other. But now M Grafton at this time I have specially called you to be a witness with me that upon this translation of Bishops Sees, I must according to the statute take an oath unto the kings majesty knowledging his Supremacy, which before God I take with my heart and so think him to be, and beseech almighty God to save him, and long to prosper his grace: hold the book sirah, and read you the oth (said he) to one of his chapleins, & he laid his hand on the book and so he took his oath. And after this he shown great friendship to the said Grafton, and to his partener Edward Whitchurch, but specially to Myles Couerdail, who was the corrector of the great Bible.

Now after that the foresaid letters were delivered, the French king gave very good words, and was well content to permit the doing thereof. And so the printer went forward and printed forth the book even to the last part, and then was the quarrel picked to the printer, and he was sent for to the inquisitors of the faith, and there charged with certain articles of heresy. Then were sent for the Englishmen that were at the cost and charge thereof, and also such as had the correction of the same, which was Myles Coverdale, but having some warning what would follow the said Englishmē posted away as fast they could to save themselves, leaving behind them all their Bibles, which were to the number of 2500. called the Bibles of the great volume, and never recovered any of them, saving that the Lieftenaunt criminal having them delivered unto him to burn in a place of Paris (like Smithfield) called Mauibert place, was somewhat moved with covetousness, and sold 4. great dry fattes of them to a Haberdasher to lap in caps, and those were bought again, but the rest were burned, to the great and importunate loss of those that bare the charge of them. But notwithstanding the said loss after they had recovered some part of the foresaid books, and were comforted and encouraged by the Lord Cromwell, the said Englishmen went again to Paris, & there got the presses, letters, and servants of the aforesaid Printer, and brought them to London, and there they became printers themselves (which before they never intended) and printed out the said Bible in London, and after that printed sundry impressions of them: but yet not without great trouble and loss, for the hatred of the bishops namely, Stephen Gardener, and his fellows, who mightily did stomach and malign the printing thereof.

Here by the way, for the more direction to the story, thou hast loving Reader, to note and understand that in those days there were ii. sundry Bibles in English, printed and set forth, bearing diverse titles, and printed in diverse places. The first was called Thomas Matthews Bible, printed at Hambrough, about the year of our Lord, 1532. the corrector of which print was then John Rogers, of whom ye shall hear more Christ willing hereafter. The Printers were Richard Grafton, and Whitchurch. In the translation of this Bible, the greatest doer was in deed William Tyndale, who with the help of Miles Coue •• ale had translated all the books thereof, except only the Apocrypha, and certain notes in the margent which were added after. But because the said William Tyndale in the mean time was apprehended before this Bible was fully perfected, it was thought good to thē which had the doing thereof, to change the name of William Tyndale, because that name then was odious, and to farther it by a strange name of Thomas Matthew, John Rogers the same time being corrector to the print, who had then translated the residue of the Apocrypha, and added also certain notes thereto in the margent, and thereof came it to be called Thomas Matthews Bible. Which Bible of Thomas Matthew, after it was imprinted and presented to the Lord Cromwell, & the Lord Cranmer Archbishop of Canterbury, who liked very well of it, the said Cromwell presented it to y ^e king, and obtained that the same might freely pass to be read of his subjects with his graces license: So that there was Printed upon the same book, one live in red letters with these words: Set forth with the Kings most gracious license.

The setting forth of this book did not a little offend the Clergy, namely, the Bishop aforesaid, both for the Prologues, & specially because in the same book was one special table collected of the common places in the Bible, and the scriptures for the approbation of the same, & chiefly about the supper of the lord and marriage of priests, and the mass, which there was said not to be found in Scripture.

Furthermore, after the restraint of this foresaid Bible of Matthew, another Bible began to be printed at Paris, an. 1540. Which was called the Bible of the large Uolume. The Printers whereof were the foresaid Richard Grafton, and Whitchurche which bare the charges. A great helper thereto was the lord Cromwell. The chiefest overseer was Myles Coverdale, who taking the translation of Tyndale, conferred the same with the Hebrew, and amended many things.

In this Bible, although the former notes of Thomas Matthew was omitted, yet sundry marks & hands were annexed in the sides, which meant that in those places should be made certain notes, wherewith also the clergy was offended, though the notes were not made.

After this, the bishops bringing their purpose to pass, brought the Lord Cromwell out of favor, and shortly to his death: and not long after, great complaint was made to the king of the translation of the Bible, and of y ^e preface of the same, and then was the sale of the Bible commanded to be stayed, the B. promising to amend & correct it, but never performing the same: Then Grafton was called, & first charged with the printing of Matthews Bible, but he being fearful of trouble, made excuses for himself in all things. Then was he examined of the great Bible, and what notes he was purposed to make. To the which he answered, that he knew none. For his purpose was to have retained learned men to have made the notes, but when he perceived the kings majesty, and his Clergye not willing to have any, he proceeded no further. But for all these excuses, Grafton was sent to the Fleet, and there remained vi. wekes, and before he came out, was bound in CCC.li that he should neither sell, nor imprint, or cause to be imprinted any moe Bibles, until the king & the clergy should agree upon a translation. And thus was the Bible from that time stayed, during the reign of Kyng Henry the viii.

But yet one thing more is to be noted, that after the imprinters had lost their Bibles, they continued suitors to Boner, as is aforesaid, to be a mean for to obtain of the French king their books again: but so long they continued suitors, and Boner ever fed them with fair words, promising them much, but did nothing for them, till at the last Boner was discharged of his ambassade, and returned home, where he was right joyfully welcomed home by the lord Cromwell, who loved him dearly, and had a marvelous good opinion of him. And so long as Cromwell remained in authority, so long was Boner at his beck and friend to his friends, and enemy to his enemies: as namely, at that time to Gardmer B. of Winchester, who never favored Cromwell, & therefore Boner could not favor him, but that he and Winchester were the greatest enemies that might be. But so soon as Cromwell fell, immediately Boner and Winchester pretended to be the greatest men that lived, and no good word could Boner speak of Cromwell, but the lewdest, vilest, and bitterest that he could speak, calling him the rankest heretic that ever lived: and then such as the said Boner knew to be in good favor with Cromwell, he could never abide their sight. Insomuch, as the next day after that Cromwell was apprehended, the abovenamed Grafton, who before had been very fam • liar • with Boner, met with the said Boner suddenly, and said unto him, that he was sory to hear of the news that then was abroad. What are they, said he? Of the apprehension of the L. Cromwell, said Grafton. Are ye sory for that (said he?) It had been good that he had been dispatched long ago. With that Grafton looked upon him and knew not what to say, but came no more to Boner. Howbeit afterward the said Grafton being charged for the imprinting of a ballet made in the favor of Cromwell was called before the Council, where Boner was present and there Boner charged him with the words that he spake to him of Cromwell, and told out a great long tale. But the lord Awdeley, who then was Lord Chancellor, right discretly and honourably, cut of the matter, and entered into other talk.

The history of Robert Barns, Thomas Garret, and William Jerome, divines.

LIke as in foreign battails the chief point of victory consisteth in the safety of the General or captain: even so when the valiant standard bearer and stay of the church of England, Tho. Cromwell I mean, was made away, pity it is to behold, what miserable slaghter of good men and good women ensued thereupon, whereof we have now (Christ willing) to entreat. For Winchester having now gotten his full purpose & free swinge to exercise his cruelty, wonder it was to see that Aper Calydonius, or (as the scripture speaketh) that Ferus singularis, what troubles he raised in the Lord's vineyard. And least by delays he might loose the occasion presently offered, he straight ways made his first assaults upon Robert Barns, Thomas Garret and William Jerome, whom in y ^e very same month within ii. days after Cromwell's death, he caused to be put to execution. Whose histories severally to comprehend, first of all we will somewhat speak of Barns D. of divinity, whose particular story here followeth.

This Barns, after he came from the University of Louaine, went to Cambridge, where he was made Prior and master of the house of the Augustine's. At that time the knowledge of good letters was scarcely entered into the University, all things being full of rudeness and barbaritie, saving in very few, which wer privy and secret. Wherupon Barns having some feeling of better learning and authors, began in his house to read Terence, Plautus, & Cicero, so that what with his industry, pains & labors, and with the help of Tho. Parnell his scholar, whom he brought from Leuven with him, reading Copia verborum & rerum, he caused the house shortly to flourish with good letters, and made a great part of the house learned (which before were drowned in barbarous rudeness) as M. Cambridge, master Felde, M. Colman, M. Burley, M. Couerdall, with diverse other of the University, that sojourned there for learnings sake. After these foundations laid, then did he read openly in the house, Paul's Epistles, and put by Duns and Dorbel, and ye • he was a questionarye himself: and only because he would have Christ there taught and his holy word, he turned their unsavory Problemes and fruitless disputations to other better matter of the holy scripture, & thereby in short space he made diverse good divines. The same order of disputatiō which he kept in his house, he observed likewise in the university abroad whē he should dispute with any man in the commō schools. And the first man that answered Doctor Barns in the Scriptures, was Master Stafford for his form to be Bachelor of divinity, which disputation was marvelous in the sight of the great blind Doctors, and joyful to the godly spirited.

Thus Barns what with his reading, disputation and preaching, became famous and mighty in the Scriptures, preaching ever against bishops and hypocrites, and yet did not see his inward & outward idolatry, which he both taught and maintained, till that good M. Bilney, with other (as is aforesaid in the life of M. Bilney) converted him wholly unto Christ.

The first sermon that ever he preached of this truth, was the Sunday before Christmas day, at S. Edward's church longing to Trinity hall in Cambridge, by y ^e Pease marker: whose theme was the epistle of the same Sunday, Gaudete in domino, &c. and so postilled the whole epistle, following the scripture and Luther's postill, and for that sermon he was immediately accused of heresy by ii. fellows of the kings hall. Then the godly learned in Christ both of Penbroke hall, S. John's, Peter house, Queens college the Kings college, Gunwell hall, & Benet college, sh • wed themselves & flocked together in open sight, both in the schools, and at open Sermons at S. Mary's, and at the Augustine's, and at other disputations, and then they conferred continually together.

The house that they resorted most commonly unto, was the white horse, which for despite of them to bring God's word into contempt was called Germany. This house especially was chosen because of them of S. John's. The kings college, and the Queens college, came in on the back side. At this time much trouble began to ensue. The adversaries of D. Barns accused him in the Regēt house before the Uicechancelor, where as his articles were presented with him & received, he promising to make answer at the next convocation, and so it was done. Then Doctor Nottoris a rank enemy to Christ, moved Doct. Barns to recant, but he refused so to do: which appeareth in his book that he made to king Henry the 8. in English, confuting the judgment of cardinal Wolsey, and the residue of the Bishops papistical, and so for the time stood steadfast. And this tragedy continued in Cambridge, one preaching against another, in trying out of God's truth, until within vi. days of Shrouetyde. Then suddenly was sent down to Cambridge a sergeaunt of arms called master Gibson, dwelling in s. Thomas Apostles in Londō, who suddenly arrested D. Barns openly in the conuocatiō house, to make all other afraid: and privily they had determined to make search for Luther's books, and all the Germans works suddenly.

But good D. Farman of the Queens College, sent word incontinently thereof, to the chambers of those that were suspected, which were in number xxx. persons. But God be praised they were conveyed, by that time that the sergeant at arms, the Uicechauncelor and the Proctors were at every man's chamber, going directly to the place where the books lay (whereby it was perceived that there were some privy spies amongst that small company) and that night they studied together and gave him his answer, which answer he carried with him to Londō the next morning, which was Tuesday before Shrouesonday, & came on the Wednesday to London, & lay at M. Parnels house by the stocks. In the morning he was carried by the Sergeant at arms to cardinal Wolsey to Westminster, waytyng there all day, and could not speak with him til night. Then by the reason of D. Gardener Secretary to the cardinal (of whose familiar acquaintance he had been, before) and M. Fox M. of the Wardes, he spake the same night with the cardinal in his chamber of estate, kneeling on his knees. Then said the cardinal to them, is this D. Barns your man that is accused of heresy? Yea, and please your grace, and we trust you shall find him reformable, for he is both well learned and wise.

What M. doctor (said the cardinal) had you not a sufficient scope in the scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shows, my pollaxes, my pillars, my gold̄ cusshiōs, my crosses did so sore offend you, that you must make us Ridiculum caput amongst the people. We were iolily y ^t day laughed to scorn. Verily it was a sermon more fitter to be preached on a stage, thē in a pulpit: for at the last you said, I wear a pair of red gloves, I should say bloody gloves (quoth you) that I should not be cold in the midst of my ceremonies, And he answered. I spake nothing but the truth out of the scriptures, according to my conscience and according to the old Doctors: and then did he deliver him vi. sheets of paper written to confirm and corroborate his sayings.

He received them smiling on him, and saying, we perceive then that you intend to stand to your Articles and to show your learning.

Yea said Barns that I do intend by God's grace, with your Lordships favor.

He answered, such as you are do bear us little favor & the catholic church. I will ask you a question. Whether do you think it more necessary that I should have all this royalty, because I represent the kings majesties person in all the hie courts of this realm, to the terror & keeping down of all rebellions, treasons, traitors, all the wicked and corrupt members of this common wealth, or to be as simple as you would have us, to sell all these foresaid things, and to give it to the poor, which shortly will pisse it against the walls, and to pull away this majesty of a princely dignity, which is a terror to all the wicked, and to follow your counsel in this behalf.

He answered I think it necessary to be sold and given to the poor. For this is not comely for your calling, nor y ^e kings majesty is not maintained by your pomp & pollaxes, but by God, who saith: Per me reges regnant. Kings and their majesties reign and stand by me.

Then answered he: Lo M. Doctors, here is the learned the wise man that you told me of. Then they kneeled down and said: we desire your grace to be good unto him, for he will be reformable.

Then said he, stand you up, for your sakes & the University we will be good unto him. How say you M. doctor do you not know that I am Legatus de latere, and that I am able to dispense in all matters concerning religion w ^t in this realm, as much as the pope may? He said, I know it to be so.

Will you then be ruled by us, & we will do all things for your honesty, and for the honesty of the University?

He answered, I thank your grace for your good will, I will stick to the holy scripture and to God's book, according to the simple talent that God hath lent me.

Aunswere well said he, thou shalt have thy learning tried to the uttermost, and thou shalt have the law.

Then he required him that he might have justice with equitye, and forthwyth he should have gone to the tower, but that Gardener & Fox became his sureties that night, and so he came home to M. Parnels house again, and that night fell to writing again and slepte not, M. Coverdale, M. Goodwin & M. Feld being his writers: and in y ^e morning he came to York place to Gardener and Fox, and by & by he was committed to the Sergeant of arms to bring him into the chapter house at Westminster before the Bishops, and the Abbot of Westminster called Islip.

The same time when D. Barns should appear before the cardinal, there were 5. Stilliard mē to be examined for Luther's books and Lollardy, but after they spied Barns they set the other aside, and asked the Sergeaunt of arms what was his errand. He said he had brought one Doctor Barns to be examined of heresy, and presented both his Articles and his accusers. Then immediately after a little talk, they sware him & laid his articles to him. Who like as he answered the cardinal before, so said he unto them, & then he offered the book of his probations unto them. Who asked him whether he had another for himself, and he said, yea, showing it unto them. Who then took it from him, & said they should have no laisure to dispute with him at that present for other affairs of the kings majesty, which they had to do, and therefore had him stand aside. Then they called the Stilliarde men again one by one, and when they were examined, they called forth the M. of the Fleet, and they were committed all to the Fleet. Then they called D. Barns again, and asked him whether he would subscribe to his Articles or no, and he subscribed willingly: and then they committed him and young M. Parnel to the Flete also with the other. There they remained till Saterdaye in the morning, and the Warden of the Fleet was commanded that no man should speak with him.

On the saterday he came again afore them into y ^e chapter house, and there with the stilliard men remained till 5. a clock at night. And after long disputations, threatenings, & scornings, about 5. a clock at night, they called him, to know whether he would abjure or burn. He was then in a great agony, & thought rather to burn thē to abjure. But thē was he sent again to have y ^e counsel of Gard. and Fox, & they persuaded him rather to abjure thē to burn, because (they said) he should do more in time to come, & with diverse other persuasions that were mighty in the sight of reason & foolish flesh. Upon that, kneeling upon his knees, he cōscented to abjure, and the abjuration put in his hand, he abjured as it was there written, and then he subscribed with his own hand: and yet they would scarcely receive him into the bosom of the Church, as they termed it. Then they put him to an oth, and charged him to execute, do, and fulfill all that they commanded him, and he promised so to do.

Then they commanded the Warden of the Fleet to carry him with his fellows to the place from whence he came, and to be kept in close prison, and in the morning to provide 5. fagots for D. Barns, and the 4. Stilliard men. The 5. Stilliard man was commanded to have a taper of 5. pound weight to be provided for him, to offer to the rood of Northen in Paul's, and all these things to be ready by 8. of the clock in the morning, and that he with all that he could make, with bills and gleaues, and y ^e knight marshall withal his tipstaues that he could make, should bring them to Paul's and conduct them home again. In the morning they were all ready by their hour appointed in Paul's church, the church being so full that no man could get in. The Cardinal had a scaffold made on the top of the stairs for himself, with 36. Abbots, mitred Priors and bishops, and he in his whole pomp mitred (which Barns spake against) sat there inthronized, his Chapleins and spiritual doctors in gowns of damaske and satine, and he himself in purple, even like a bloody Antichrist. And there was a new pulpit erected on the top of the stairs also, for the B. of Rochester to preach against Luther and Doctor Barns: and great baskets full of books standing before them within the rails, which was commanded after the great fire was made afore the rood of Northen there to be burned, and these heretics after the sermon to go thryse about the fire, and to cast in their fagots.

Now while the sermon was a doing, D. Barns and the stilliard men were commanded to knele down & ask God forgiveness, the catholic church and cardinals grace and after that he was commanded at the ende of the sermon to declare that he was more charitablier handled, then he deserved or was worthy (his heresies were so horrible and so detestable) and once again kneeled down on his knees, and desiring the people of forgiveness and to pray for him, and so the cardinal departed under a canapie with all his mitred men with him, till he came to the second gate of Paul's, and then he took his mule, and the mitred men came back again. Then these poor men being commanded to come down from the stage (whereon the sweepers use to stand when they sweep the Church) the Bishops sat them down again and commanded the knight marshall and the Warden of the Fleet with their company to carry them about the fire, and so were they brought to the bishops, and there for absolution kneeled down. Where Rochester stood up and declared unto the people how many days of pardon and forgiveness of sins they had for being at that Sermon, and there did assoil D. Barns with the other, and shown the people that they were received into the church again.

This done, the Warden of the Fleet and the Knyght Marshall were commanded to have them to the Fleet again, and charged that they should have the liberty of the Flete as other prisoners had, and that their friends might resort unto them, and there to remain till the Lord Cardinals pleasure was known.

After that Barns there in the Fleet had continued the space of half a year, at length being delivered, was committed to be free prisoner at the Agustine friers in London. When those Caterpillars and bloody beasts had there undermined him, they complained again to their Lord cardinal. Wherupon he was removed to the Agustine Friars of Northampton, there to be burned. Yet he himself under standing nothing thereof, but supposing still y ^t he should there remain and continue in free prison, at last one M. Horne, who had brought him up, and was his special friend, having intelligence of the writ which should shortly be sent down to burn him, gave him counsel to fain him self to be desperate, and that he should write a letter to the Cardinal and leave it on his table where he lay, and a paper by, to declare whether he was gone to drown himself, & to leave his clothes in the same place: and there another letter to be left to the Major of the town to search for him in the water, because he had a letter written in parchment about his neck, closed in wax, for the Cardinal, which would teach all men to beware by him. Uppon this, they were 7. days in searching for him, but he was conveyed to London in a pore man's apparel, and so tarried not there but took shipping and went by long Seas to Antwerpe, and so to Luther, and there fell to study till he had made answer to all the Bishops of the Realm, and had made a Book entitled, Acta Romanorum pontificum. And another book with a supplication to king Henry. Immediatly it was told the Cardinal, that he was drowned, and he said, Perit memoria eius cum sonitu. But this did light upon himself shortly after, which wretchedly died at Leicester.

In the mean season D. Barns was made strong in Christ, and got favor both of the learned in Christ, & foreign Princes in Germany, and was great with Luther, Melancthon, Pomeran, Iustus Jonah, Hegendorphinus and Aepinus, and with the Duke of Saxon, and the king of Denmark, which king of Denmark in the time of More and Stokesley sent him with the Lubeckes, as an Ambassador, to king Henry the viii. He lay with the Lubeckes Chancellor at the Stilliard.

Syr Tho. More then Chancellor, would fain have entrapped him, but the king would not let him, for Cromwell was his great friend. And ere he went, the Lubeckes & he disputed with the Bishops of this realm in defense of the truth, and so he departed again without restrainte with the Lubeckes. After his going again to Wittemb. to the Duke of Saxon, and to Luther, he remained there to set forwards his works in Printe that he had begun, from whence he returned again in the beginning of the reign of Queen Anne, as other did, & continued a faithful preacher in this City, being all her time well entertained and promoted. After that, he was sent Ambassador by K. Henry the 8. to the Duke of Cleue, for the marriage of y ^e Lady Anne of Cleue, between the king and her, and was well accepted in that Ambassade and in all his doings, until the time that Ste. Gardener came out of France: but after he came, neither religion prospered, nor the Queens majesty, nor Cromwell, nor the preachers, who after the marriage of the Lady Anne of Cleue, never ceased until he had grafted the marriage in another stock, by the occasion whereof he began his bloody broyle.

For not long after, Doctor Barns with his brethren were apprehended and carried before the kings majesty to Hampton court, and there he was examined. Where the kings majesty seeking the means of his safety, to bring Wintc. and him agreed, at Wynchesters request, granted him leave to go home with the bishop to confer with him and so he did. But as it happened they not agreeing, Gardener and his cōpartners sought by all subtle means, how to entangle and to entrappe them in further danger, which not long after was brought to pass. For by certain complaints made to the king of them, they were enjoined to preach 3. sermons the next Easter following at the Spittle. At the which sermons, besides other reporters which were thither sent, Ste. Gardener also was there present sitting with the Major, either to bear record of their recantation, or else as the Pharisees came to Christ, to trippe them in their talk, if they had spokē anything awry. Whē these 3. had thus preached their Sermons, among whom Barns preaching the first sermon, and seeing Ste. Gardener there present, humbly desired him in the face of all the audience, if he forgave him, to hold up his hand, and the said Gardener thereupon held up his finger: yet notwithstanding shortly after by the means of the said reporters, they were sent for to Hampton Courte: who from thence were carried to the tower by Syr John Gostwike. From whence they never came out till they came to their death, as hereafter Christ willing shall more appear.

And thus hitherto concerning the history of Barns. Now let us likewise consider the story and doings of Thomas Garet.

A note of three Papists executed the same time with Barns, Jerome, and Garret.

THe same time and day and in the same place, where & when these three above mentioned did suffer, three other also were executed, though not for the same cause, but rather the contrary: for denying the kings supremacy, whose names were Powell, Fetherstone and Abel. The which spectacle so happenyng upon one day, in two so contrary partes or factions, brought the people into a marvelous admiration & doubt of their Religion, which part to follow and take: as might so well happen amongst ignorant and simple people, seeing two contrary parts so to suffer, the one for Popery▪ the other against Popery, both at one time. In so much that a certain stranger being there present the same time, and seeing three on the one side, and three on the other side to suffer, said in these words: Deus bone quomodo his viuunt gentes, hic suspenduntur Papistae, illic comburuntur Antipapistae? But to remove and take away all doubt hereafter from the posterity, whereby they shall the less marvel how this so happened, here is to be understand, howe the cause thereof did rise and proceed. Which happened, by reason of a certain division and discord amongst the Kings Council, which were so divided amongst themselves in equal parts, that the one half seemed to hold with the one Religion, the other half with the contrary.

The names of whom, although it were not necessary to express, yet being compelled for the setting forth of the truth of the story, we have thought good here to annex, as the certainty thereof came to our hands.

Protestants.

Papists.

Canterbury.

Wynchester.

Suffolk.

Duresme.

Viscount Beawcham.

Norfolk. Southhampton.

Viscount Lisle.

Anthony Brown.

Russell Treasurer.

William Paulet.

Pagyt.

John Baker.

Sadler.

Rich. Chaunc. of the augmentation.

Audeley.

Wingfield Vic. Chaunc.

This division and separation of the Coūsell amongst themselves, caused both these partes above mentioned, the one for one religion, the other for another, to suffer together. For as the one part of the Counsel called vpō the execution of Barns, Garret, & Jerome, so the other part likewise called vpō the execution of the law vpō Powell, Fetherstone, and Abel. Which six being condemned and drawn to the place of execution, two upon an hyrdle, one being a Papist, the other a Protestant, thus after a strange manner were brought into Smithfield, where all the said six together for contrary doctrine suffered death, three by the fire for the Gospel, the other three by hanging, drawing, and quarteryng for Popery.

Allen Cope in his worshipful Dialogues, making mention of these three aforesaid, Powell, Fetherstone, and Abel, amongst other which died in king Hēries days in the like Popish quarrel, that is, for the like treason against their Prince (being in all to the number of 24.) extolleth thē not only in words, but with miracles also, up to the height of heavē, among the crowned Martyrs, & Saints of God. To the which Cope, because in this hast of story, I have no laysure at this present to give attendaūce, I shall wait attēdaūce (the Lord willing) another time, to join in this issue with him more at laysure. In the mean time, it shall suffice at this present, to recite the names only of those 24. rebels, whom he of his Popish deuotiō so dignifieth with the pretensed title of Martyrs. The names of which Monkish rebels be these here following.

• John Houghton.
• Robert Laurence.
• Aug. Webster.
• Reynald of Zion.
• John Hayle.
• John Rochester.
• Iac. Wannere.
• John Stone.
• John Trauerse.
• William Horne.
• Powell.
• Fetherstone.
• Abel.

Beside these were other ix. Cartusian Monks which died in the prison of Newgate. To the which number if ye add M. More, and the Bishop of Rochester, the summa totalis cometh to 24. whom the said Cope unjustly crowned for Martyrs. But of these more shall be said (the Lord willing) hereafter.

Thus having discoursed the order of the vi. Articles, with other matter likewise following in the next Parliament, concerning the condemnation of the Lord Cromwell, of Doct. Barns, and his fellows. &c. Let us now (proceeding further in this history) consider what great disturbance and vexation ensued after the setting forth of the said Articles, through the whole Realm of England, especially amongst the godly sort. Wherein first were to be mentioned the strait and severe commissions sent forth by the kings authority, to the Bishops, Chancelors, Officials, to Justices, Mayors, & Bailiffs in every shyre, and other Commissioners by name in the same commissions expressed, and amongst other, especially to Edmund Boner Bishop of London, to the Major, Sheriffs, and Aldermen of the same, to inquire diligently upon all heretical books, and to burn them, also to inquire upon such persons whatsoever culpable or suspected of such felonies, heresies, contemptes, or transgressions, or speaking any words contrary the foresaid Act set forth of the six Articles. The tenor of which Commissions being sufficiently expressed in ancient Recordes, and in the Bishops Registers, and also partly touched before, pag. 1101. therefore for tediousness I here omit, only showing forth the Commission directed to Edmund Boner Bishop of London, to take the oath of the Major of London, and of others, for the execution of the Commission aforesaid. The tenor whereof here followeth.

The Commission for taking the oath of the Major of London, and others, for the execution of the Acte aforesaid.

HEnry the eight by the grace of God, king of England and of France, defender of the faith, Lord of Ireland, and in earth supreme head of the Church of England, unto the Reverend father in Christ Edmund Boner Bishop of London, and to his well-beloved the Bishops Chancellor, health. Know ye that we have given you jointly and severally power and authority to receive the oaths of William Roche Major of London, John Allen Knight, Raffe Warren Knight, Rich. Gresham Knight, Roger Chomley Knight, Sergeant at Law, John Greshā, Michael Dormer Archdeacon of London, the Bishops Cōmissary and Officiall, Robert Chidley, Gwy Crayford, Edward Hall, Robert Broke, and John Morgā, and every of them our Commissioners for heresies and other offenses done within our City of London, and Dioces of the same, according to the tenor of a certain schedule hereunto annexed. And therefore we commaūde that you receive the oaths aforesaid, and when you have received them, to certify us into our Chauncery under your Seals, returning this our writ. T. meipso▪ at Westminster the 29 of January in the 32. year of our reign.

What the oath was of these Commissioners, whereunto they were bound, read before, pag. 1101.

*A note how Boner sat in the Guildhall in Commission for the vi. Articles. And of the condemning of Mekins.

VPon this commission given unto Edmund Boner, he coming to the Guildhall with other Commissioners, to sit vpō the Statute of the vi. Articles, begā eftsoons to put in execution his authority after a rigorous sort, as ye shall hear. And first he charged certain Iuries, to take their oth upon y ^e Statute aforesaid: who being sworn had a day appointed to give their Uerdicte. At the which day they indicted sundry persons, which shortly after were apprehended & brought to Ward, who after a while remaining there, were by the king & his Counsaile discharged at the Star chamber, without any further punishment.

Not long after this, Syr Will. Roche being Major, Boner with other Commissioners, sat at the Guildhall aforesaid, before whom there were a certain number of Citizens warned to appear, and after the Commission read, the said parties were called to the book, and when v. or vi. were sworn, one of the said persons being called to the book, Boner seemed to mislike, and said: Stay a while, my Masters (quoth he) I would ye should consider this matter well that we have in hand, which concerneth the glory of God, the honor of the king, and the wealth of the Realm, and if there be any here among you, that doth not consider the same, it were better that he were hence then here. Thē commoned the Commissioners with Boner about that man, so that at length he was called to the book and sworn, not all together with his good will.

When the ii. Iuries were sworn, Boner taketh upon him to give the charge unto the Iuries, and began with a tale of Anacarsis, by which example, he admonished the Iuries to spare no persons, of what degree soever they were. And at the end of his charge he brought forth to the bar a boy, whose name was Mekins, declaring how grievously he had offended by speaking of certain words against the state, and of the death of Doct. Barns: & produced into the said Court ii. witnesses, which were there sworn in the face of y ^e Court. So a day was assigned, vpō which the Iuries aforesaid should give up their Uerdict: at which day both the Commissioners, & the said Iuries met at Guildhall aforesaid. Then the Clarke of the peace called on the Iuries by their names, & when their appearance was taken, Boner bad them put in their presentmentes. Thē said the foreman, whose name was W. Robins of that Jury. My Lord (with a low curtesy) we have found nothing. At which words he fared as one in an agony, & said: Nothyng? have ye found nothing? What nothing? By the faith I owe to God (quoth he) to the foremā, I would trust you upon your obligatiō: but by your oth I will trust you nothing. Thē said some of the Commissioners: My Lord, give them a longer day. No (quoth he) in London they ever find nothing. I pray you, what say you to Mekins? My Lord, quoth the foreman, we can say nothing to him, for we find the witnesses to disagree. One affirmeth that he should say the Sacrament was nothing but a ceremony, & the other nothing but a signification. Why, quoth Boner, did he not say, that Barns died holy? Thē pausing a while, he bad cal the other Jury. Put in your Uerdict, quoth he. My Lord said one, we have found nothing. Jesus quoth he, is not this a strange case.

Then spake one of the same Jury, whose name was Raph Foxley, & said: My Lord whē you gave us charge, we desired to have the Persons & Curates of every Parish to give us instructions, and it was denied us. Then stood up the Recorder and said, it was true in deed that he had spoken, and therewithal said, this last year were charged two Iuries, which did many things naughtely and foolishly, and did as much as in them lay, to make an uproar among y ^e Kings people, & therefore it was thought not meet, that they should give information to you. Nay, nay, quoth Boner, this was the cause: I • the Person or Curate should give information according to his knowledge, then what will they say? I must tell my confession to a knave priest, and he shall go by and by and open it. What, said my Lord Major, there is no man (I trow) that will say so. Yes by my truth, quoth Boner, knave Priest, knave Priest. Then said the Lord Major, somewhat smiling, there be some of them slipper fellows, and as men find them, so will they oft times report. Boner not well contented with those words, said to the Jury: My masters, what say you to Mekins? They answered, the witnesses do not agree, therefore we do not allow them. Why, quod Boner, this court hath allowed them. Thē said one of the Jury to the Recorder: Is it sufficient for our discharge, if this court do allow them? Yea, said the Recorder, it is sufficient, & said: Go you aside together a while, & bring in your verdicte. After the Jury had talked together a little while, they returned to the bar again with their inditement, which at Boners hand was friendly received: so both they and the other Jury were discharged, & bidden take their ease. Thus ended the court for that day. Shortly after they sat for life and death. Mekins being brought to the bar, and the inditement read. Boner said to him: Mekins confess the truth, and submit thyself unto the Kings law that thy death may be an example to all other.

This Rich. Mekins being a child, which passed not the age of fifteen years (as Halle reporteth) as he had heard some other folks talk, so chanced he to speak against y ^e sacrament of the altar. Which coming to Boners ears, he never left him (as afore doth plainly appear) before he had brought him to the fire. During the time of his imprisonment, neither his poor father nor mother for fear durst aid him with any relief: whereby he there endured in great misery. At what time he was brought unto the stake, he was taught to speak much good of the Bishop of London, and of the great charity he shown to him, and to defy and detest all heretics and heresies, but specially Doctor Barns, unto whom he imputed the learning of that heresy, which was the cause of his death. The poor ladde would for sauegard of his life, have gladly said that the xii. Apostles had taught it him: such was his childish innocence and fear. But for this deed many spake and said, it was great shame for the Bishop, whose parte and duty it had been rather to have labored to save his life, then to procure that terrible execution, seeing that he was such an ignorant soul, that he knew not what the affirming of heresy was.

Richard Spenser, Ramsey, and one Hewet, suffered at Salisbury.

ABout the same time also a certain Priest was burned at Salisbury, who leaving his Papistry, had married a wife, and became a player in interludes, with one Ramsey and Hewet, which three were all condemned and burned: Against whom, and specially against Spenser, was laid matter concerning the Sacrament of the altar. He suffered at Salisbury.

Although this Inquisition above mentioned was meant properly and especially concerning the vi. Articles, yet so it fell out, that in short space doubts began to rise and to be moved by the Quest, whether they might inquire as well of all other opinions, articles, and cases of Lollardy, or for speaking against holy bread, holy water, or for fauoring the cause of Barns, of Frier Warde, Sir Thomas Rose, &c. Whereupon great perturbation followed in all Parishes almost through London in the year aforesaid, which was 1541. as here ensueth in a brief summary Table to be seen.

A brief Table of the troubles at London, in the vi. Articles time.

This Seton was Chaplayne to the duke of Suffolk and by him was made free Denison. In his sermon preached at S. Anthony's, his adversaries picked against him matter containing 15. objections, or rather cauillatiōs which for example I thought here to exhibit to the reader, to the intent that men may see, not only what true doctrine Seton then preached, consonant to the Scriptures: but also what wrāgling cauillers cā do, in depraving that is right, or in wrasting that is well ment, or in carping that they understand not, or in seeking out faults where none is, as by these their sinister cavillations may appear.

*Certain places or Articles, gathered out of Setons Sermons by his adversaries.

THe sayings and words of Alexander Seton spoken & preached by him in his sermon, made the xiii. day of November, at afternoon in the Parish Church of S. A. in London, Paul saith, of our selves we can do nothing I pray thee then where is thy will? Art thou any better thē Paul, James, Peter, and all the Apostles? Hast thou anymore grace then they? Tell me now if thy will be anything or nothing. If it be anything, tell me whether it be to do good, or ill? If thou say to do ill, I will grant thou hast a greater deal. If thou say to do good, I ask whether is more somewhat, or nothing? For Paul said he could do nothing and I am sure thou hast no more grace, then Paul and his companions.

Scripture speaketh of three things in man: the first is will: the other two are consent and deed. The first (that is will) God worketh without us, and besides us. The other two he worketh in us, and with us. And here he alleged S. Augustine, to prove that we can will nothing y ^t is good. Moreover he said, thou hast not one jot, no not one title to do any good.

There is nothing in heaven, nor earth, creature nor other, that can be any mean towards our justification nor can or may satisfy God the father for our sin, save only Christ, and the shedding of his blood.

He that preacheth that works do merit, or be any mean to our salvation, or any part of our iustificatiō preacheth a doctrine of the devil.

If anything else save only Christ, be any mean towards our iustificatiō, then did not Christ only justify us.

I say that thy good works, nor anything that thou canst do, can be one jot or title towards thy iustificatiō. For if they be, then is not Christ a full justifier, and that I will prove hy a familier example. Be it in case that I have .2. servants, the one is called John, and the other Robert, & I promise to send you such a day xx.l. by John my servant and at my day I send you by John my servant xix.l.xix. s. xi. d. ob. q. and there lacketh but one farthing, which Robert doth bring thee, and so thou hast thy xx.l. every penye and farthing. Yet will I ask if I be true of my promise, or no, and thou mayst say nay. And why? because I promised to send thee that whole, xx. pound by John and did not, for there lacked a farthing, which Robert brought. Wherefore I say, if thy works do merit or bring one little jot or title toward thy justification, then is Christ false of his promise, which said that he would do altogether.

One Scripture I will bring you (which they cannot writhe) to prove that Christ was only promised to be our only Justifier, our only mean, and that is in the xxij. of Genesis, where it is written: In thy seed shall all people be blessed, meaning thereby only Christ: and he said not in thy seeds, nor in the works of thy seeds. Wherefore all they that preach, that works be any part or mean toward our justification, do make God false of his promise.

They that preach that works do merit, do make works the tree, which are but the fruits of justice, wrought by him that is already a just man, which cannot choose but bring forth good fruit.

I would ask a question, whether he that worketh be a good mā, or bad, for he must be one of them. If he be a good man, he cannot choose but bring forth good fruits: if he be an ill mā, he can bring forth no fruit, but ill fruit, for a good tree cannot bring forth ill fruit.

He that saith that works do merit anything towards our salvation, doth make works check mate with Christ & plucketh from Christ that is his, & giveth it to works. Some will ask, wherefor then should I do good works? I answer, good works are to be done for no cause else, but only for the glory of God, and not that they do merit anything at all. And he that saith that works are to be done for any other cause, thē for the glory of God only and will have thē to merit, or be any mean towards our justification, I say he lieth, and believe him not.

He that cā show me in any scripture, that works do merit, or by any mean to our justification: for the first scripture I will (without any further judgment) lose both mine ears, for the second, my tongue, and for the third my neck. For I dare say he cannot prove in all the whole scripture one title: wherefor believe them not.

Men say that we deny good works, and fasting, and prayer. They lie on us, we deny nothing but popish works, and popish fasting, and popish prayer, & he that preacheth that works do merit, or fasting doth merit, or prayer doth merit, doth preach a popish doctrine.

If you ask when we will leave preaching of works, even when they do leave to preach that works do merit, & suffer Christ to be a whole satisfier, & only mean to our justification, & till thē, we will not cease in God's cause to set forth only Christ to be a full & perfect, & only satisfaction.

If you ask, if good works shall be rewarded, I say yea, and with no less then eternal glory, but for no merit that they deserve, for they deserve nothing: but only because god hath promised, not for the merit of the work, but for his promise sake, and he will not break his promise.