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The original of Anthony Persons trouble.

THere was a certain priest named Anth. Person, which frequented much to Windsore, about the year of our Lord, 1540. and using the talent that God had given him in preaching, was greatly esteemed among the people, who flocked so much to his sermons which he made both in the town and country, that the great priests of the castle, with other papists in the town (specially Symons) were sore offended: In so much that Symons at the last begā to gather of his sermons, & to mark his auditors: whereof ensued the death of diverse, and trouble of many honest men. For about a year & more after, a minister of Satan called D. London, Warden of the new College in Oxford, was admitted one of the Prebendaries of Windsore, who at his first coming to Windsore, began to utter his stomach, & to show his affection. For at his first Residēce diner which he made to the clerks (which company for the most parte at that time favored the Gospel) all his whole talk to two Gentlemen strangers at his board (till the table was a taking up) was nothing else but of heretics, and what a desolation they would bring the realm unto, if they might be so suffered. And by S. Mary masters (quoth he to the clerks at the last) I cannot tell, but there goeth a shrewde report abroad of this house. Some made answer, it was undeserved. I pray God it be, quoth he. I am but a stranger & have small experience among you: but I have heard it said before I came hither, that there be some in this house, that will neither have prayer nor fasting.

Then spake Testwood: By my troth sir (quoth he) I think that was spoken but of malice, for prayer (as your mastership knoweth better then I) is one of the first lessons that Christ taught us. Yea mary sir, quoth he, but the heretics will have no invocation to saints, which all the old fathers do allow. What the old fathers do allow, quoth Testwood, I cannot tell, but Christ doth appoint us to go to his father, and to ask our petitions of him in Christ's name. Then you will have no mean between you & god, quoth D. London. Yes sir, quoth Testwood, our mean is Christ, as S. Paul saith: There is one Mediator between god and man, even Jesus Christ. Geue us water quoth D. Londō. Which being set on the boorde, he said grace and washed, & so falling into other communication with the strangers, the clerks took their leave and departed.

When D. London had ben in Windsore a while among his catholic brethren, & learned what Testwood was, & also of Symons, who shown him our Ladies nose (as he called it) what a sort of heretics were in the town and about the same, and how they increased daily by reason of a naughty priest, called Anth. Person, he was so maliciously bent against thē, that he gave himself wholly to the devil to do mischief. And to bring his wicked purpose about, he conspired w ^t the foresaid Symōs (a meet clerk to serve such a curate) and other of like sore, how they might cōpass the matter, first to have all the Archheretikes (as they termed thē) in Windsore & thereabout, indicted of heresy, and so to proceed further. They had a good ground to work upon, (as they thought) which was the six articles, whereupon they began to build and practice thus. First they drew out certain notes of Antho. Persons sermons, which he had preached against the sacrament of the altar, & their popish Mass. That done, they put in sir Phillip Hobby with the good Lady his wife, sir Thomas Cardine, M. Edmund Harman, M. Tho. Weldon, with Snowbal and his wife, as chief aiders, helpers, & mainteiners of Anth. Person. Also they noted D. Haines Dean of Exceter and a Prebendary of Windsore, to be a common receiver of all suspected persons. They wrote also the names of all such as commonly haunted Anthony Persons sermons, & of all such as had the Testament, and favored the Gospel, or did but smell thereof.

Then had they privy spies to walk up and down the Church, to hearken and hear what men said, and to mark who did not reverence the sacrament at the leuation time, and to bring his name to D. London. And of these spies some were Chantrie priests: among the which there was one notable spy, whose name was called sir Will. Bows such a fleering priest as would be in every corner of the Church pattering to himself, with his Portuous in his hand, to hear and to note the gesture of men towards the sacrament. Thus whē they had gathered as much as they could, and made a perfect book thereof, D. London with two of his catholic brethren moe, gave them up to the B. of Winchester Stephen Gardener, with a great complaint against the heretics that were in Windsor, declaring unto him how the town was sore disquieted through their doctrine and evil example. Wherefore they besought his lordships help, in purging the town and castle of such wicked persons. The B. hearing their complaint, and seeing their book, praised their doings, and bade them make friends and go forward, and they should not lack his help. Then they applied the matter with tooth and nail, sparing for no money nor pains taking: as Marbecke saith that he himself heard one of them say, who was a great doer therein, and afterward sory for that he had done, that the suit thereof cost him that year for his part only an hundred marks, beside the death of iii. good geldings.

Now B. Gardener, which had conceived a further fetch in his brain then D. London had, made Wrisley & other of the Counsaile on his side, and spieng a time convenient, went to the king, complainyng what a sort of heretics his grace had in his Realm, and how they were not only crept into every corner of his court, but even into his privy chamber, beseching therefore his majesty, that his laws might be prosecuted: the king giving credit to the counsails words, was content his laws should be executed on such as were offenders. Then had the B. that he desired, & forthwith procured a commission for a privy search to be had in Windsore for books and letters that Anth. Person should send abroad, which commission the king granted to take place in the town of Windsore, but not in the castle.

At this time the canons of Excester (specially Sutharn, Treasurer of the church, and D. Brurewood the Chancellor) had accused D. Haynes their Dean, to the counsel, for preaching against holy bread and holy water, and that he should say in one of his Sermons (having occasion to speak of Matrimony) that marriage and hanging were destiny: upon the which they gathered treason against him, because of the kings marriage. The B. of Winchester (at the same time) had also informed the counsel of M. Hobby, how he was a bearer of Anthony Person, and a great mainteyner of heretics. Wherupon both he and D. Heynes were apprehended and sent to the fleet. But it was not very long after, ere that by mediation of friends, they were both delivered.

Now, as touching the Commission for searchyng of books, M. Warde and Fachel of Reading, were appointed commissioners, who came to Windsore the Thursday before Palme Sunday, in the year of our Lord, 1543. and began their search about xi. of the clock at night. In the which search were apprehended Robert Bennet, Henry Filmer, John Marbecke, and Robert Testwood, for certain books and writings found in their houses against the vi. articles, and kept in ward til monday after, and thē fet up to the Counsaile all save Testwood, with whom the Bailifs of the town were charged, because he lay sore diseased on the Goute. The other three being examined before the Counsaile, were committed to prison, Filmer and Bennet to the bishop of London's Jail, and Marbecke to the Marshalsey: whose examination is here set out, to declare the great goodness of the Counsaile, and the cruelty of the bishop.

The first examination of John Marbecke, before the Counsaile, on the Monday after Palme Sunday. 1544.

THis Marbecke had begun a great work in English, called The Concordaunce of the Bible. Which book being not half finished, was among his other books taken in the search, and had up to the Counsail. And when he came before them to be examined, the whole work lay before the bishop of Winchester Stephen Gardener, at the upper end of the board. Who beholding the poor man a while▪ said: Marbecke, doest thou know wherefore thou art sent for? No, my Lord quoth he. No, quoth the Bishop, That is a marvelous thing. Forsooth my Lord quoth he, unless it be for a certain search made of late in Windsore. I cannot tell wherefor it should be. Then thou knowest the matter well enough quoth the Bishop, and taking up a quire of the Concordance in his hand, said: Understandest thou the Latin tongue? No, my Lord, quoth he, but simply. No, quoth the Bishop? And with that spake M. Wrisley (then secretary to the king) he saith but simply, I cannot tell quoth the B. but the book is translated word for word out of the Latin Concordaunce, and so began to declare to the rest of the Counsaile, the nature of a Concordance, and how it was first compiled in Latin by the great diligence of the learned men for the ease of preachers, concluding with this reason, that if such a book should go forth in English, it would destroy the Latin tongue. And so casting down the quire again, he reached another book, which was the book of Isaiah the prophet, and turning to the last chap. gave the book to Marbecke, and asked him who had written the note in the margent. The other looking upon it, said: forsooth my Lord, I wrote it. Read it quoth the B. Then he read it thus, Heaven is my seat, and the earth is my footstool. Nay, quoth the B. read it as thou hadst written it. Then shall I read it wrong quoth he, for I had written it false. How hadst thou written it, quoth y ^e bishop? I had written it quoth he, thus: Heaven is my seat and the earth is not my footstool. Yea mary quoth the Bishop, that was thy meaning. No, my Lord quoth he, it was but an oversight in writing, for as your Lordship seeth, this word (Not) is blotted out. At this time came other matters into the Counsaile, so that Marbecke was had out to the next chamber. And when he had stood there a while, one of the Counsaile (named sir Anthony Wingfield Captain of the Garde) came forth, and calling for Marbecke, committed him to one Belson of the gard, saying unto him on this wise: Take this man and have him to the Marshalsey, and tell the keeper that it is the Counsels pleasure that he shall entreat him gently. And if he have any money in his purse (as I think he hath not much) take you it from him, left the prisoners do take it, and minister it unto him as he shall have need. And so the messenger departed with Marbecke to the Marshalsey, and did his commission most faithfully and truly, both to the keeper and to the prisoner, as he was commanded.

The second examination of Marbecke, before the Bishops Gentleman in the Marshalsey.

ON the next day (which was Tuesday) by 8. of the clock in the morning, there came one of the B. of Winchesters Gentlemen into the Marshalsey, whose mā brought after him two great books under his arm, & finding Marbecke walking up and down in the Chapel, demanded of the keeper why he was not in irons. I had no such commandment quoth he: for the messenger, which brought him yesternight from the Counsaile, said: It was their pleasure he should he gently used. My Lord quoth the gentleman will not be content with you, and so taking the books of his man, called for a chamber, up to the which he carried the prisoner, and casting the books from him upon a bed, sat him down and said: Marbecke, my Lord doth favor thee well for certain good qualities thou hast, and hath sent me hither to admonish thee to beware and take heed least thou cast away thyself willfully. If thou wilt be plain, thou shalt do thyself much good: if not, thou shalt do thyself much harm. I assure thee, my Lord lamenteth thy case, for as much as he hath always heard good report of thee: wherefor now see to thyself, and play the wise man. Thou art acquainted with a great sort of heretics (as Hobby and Heynes, with other mo) & knowest much of their secrets: if thou wilt now open them at my Lord's request, he will procure thy deliverance out of hand, and prefer thee to better living.

Alas sir, quoth he, what secretes do I know? I am but a poor man, and was never worthy to be so conversant either with M. Hobby, or M. Heynes, to know any part of their minds. Well, quoth the Gentleman, make it not so strange, for my lord doth know well enough in what estimation they had both thee and Anth. Person, for your religion. Of Anth. Person, quoth he, I can say nothing, for I never saw him with them in all my life. And as for myself, I cannot deny, but that they have always (I thank them) taken me for an honest poor man, and shown me much kindness: but as for their secrets, they were to wise to commit them to any such as I am.

Peradventure quoth the Gentleman, thou fearest to utter anything of them, because they were thy friends, lest they hearing thereof, might hereafter withdraw their friendship from thee, which thou nedest not to fear, I warrant thee, for they are sure enough, and never like to pleasure thee more, ner no man else.

With that the water stood in Marbeckes eyes. Why weepest thou quoth the Gentleman? Oh sir, quoth he, I pray you pardon me, these men have done me good, wherefor I beseech the living God to comfort them as I would be comforted myself.

Well quoth the Gentleman, I perceive thou wilt play the fool: and then he opened one of the books, and asked him if he understood any Latin. But a little sir, quoth he. How is it then, quoth the gentleman, that thou hast translated thy book out of the latin Concordance, & yet understandest not the tongue? I will tell you quoth he. In my youth I learned the principles of my Grammar, whereby I have some understanding therein, though it be very small. Then the gentleman began to try him in the latin Concordance & English Bible which he had brought: and when he had so done, & was satisfied, he called up his man to fet away the books, & so departed, leaving Marbecke alone in the chamber, the door fast shut unto him.

About two hours after, the Gentleman came again, with a sheet of paper folded in his hand, & sat him down upon the beds side (as before) & said: by my troth Marbecke, my lord seeth so much willfulness in thee, that he saith it is pity to do thee good. When wast thou last w ^t Haynes? Forsooth, quoth he, about a three weeks ago, I was at dinner with him. And what talk, quoth the Gentleman, had he at his board? I cā not tell now, quoth he. No, quoth y ^e gentleman, thou art not so dull witted, to forget a thing in so short space. Yes sir, quoth he, such familiar talk as mē do use at their boordes, is most commonly by the next day forgotten, and so it was with me. Didst thou never, quoth the Gentleman talk with him, nor with none of thy fellows, of the Mass, or of the blessed Sacrament? No, forsooth, quoth he. Now forsooth, quoth the Gentleman, thou liest, for thou hast been seen to talk with Testwood, and other of thy fellows, an hour together in the church, whē honest men have walked up and down beside you, & as ever they have drawn near you, ye have stayed your talk till they have been past you, because they should not hear whereof you talked. I deny not, quoth he, but I have talked with Testwood and other of my fellows, I cannot tell how oft, which maketh not that we talked either of the Mass, or of the sacrament: for men may common & talk of many matters, that they would not y ^t every man should hear, and yet far from any such thing: therefore it is good to judge the best. Well quoth the Gentleman, thou must be plainer with my Lord then this, or else it will be wrong with thee, and that sooner then thou weenest. How plain will his Lordship have me to be Sir, quoth he? There is nothing that I can do and say with a safe conscience, but I am ready to do it at his Lordships pleasure. What tellest thou me quoth the gentleman of thy conscience? Thou mayest with a sat conscience utter those that be heretics, and so doing thou canst do God and the king no greater service. If I knew sir, quoth he, who were an heretic in deed, it were a thing: but if I should accuse him to be an heretic that is none, what a worm would that be in my conscience so long as I lived: yea it were a great deal better for me to be out of this life, then to live in such torment. In faith quoth the Gentleman, thou knowest as well who be heretics of thy fellows at home, and who be none, as I do know this paper to be in my hand: but it maketh no matter, for they shall all be sent for and examined: and thinkest thou that they will not utter and tell of thee all that they can? yes I warrant thee. And what a foolish dolt art thou, that wilt not utter aforehand what they be, seeing it standeth upon thy deliverance to tell the truth? Whatsoever quoth he, they shall say of me, let thē do it in the name of God, for I will say no more of thē, nor of no man else, then I know. Mary quoth the Gentleman if thou wilt do so, my L. requireth no more. And for as much as now peradventure, thy wits are troubled, so that thou canst not call things even by & by to remembrance, I have brought thee ink & paper, that thou mayest excogitate with thyself, & write such things as shall come to thy mind. O lord, quoth Marbecke, what will my L. do? Will his lordship compel me to accuse men, and wot not whereof? No, quoth the Gentleman, my L. compelleth thee not, but gently entreated thee to say the truth. Therefore make no more ado, but write, for my Lord will have it so, and so laid down the ynke and paper and went his way.

Now was Marbecke so full of heaviness and woe, that he wyst not what to do, nor how to set the pen to the book to satisfy the Bishops mind, unless he did accuse men to the woundyng of his own soul. And thus being compassed about with nothing but sorrow and care, he cried out to God in his heart, falling down with weeping tears and said:

O most merciful father of heaven, thou that knowest the secret doings of all men, have mercy upon thy poor prisoner which is destitute of all help and comfort. Assist me (O Lord) with thy special grace, that to save this frail and vile body, which shall turn to corruption at his time, I have no power to say or to write anything, that may be to the casting away of my christen brother: but rather (O Lord) let this vile flesh suffer at thy will and pleasure. Grant this, O most merciful father, for thy dear son Jesus Christ's sake.

Then he rose up and began to search his conscience what he might write, and at last framed out these words: Whereas your Lordship will have me write such things as I know of my fellows at home: pleaseth it your lordship to understand, that I cannot call to remembrance any manner of thing whereby I might justly accuse any one of them, unless it be that the reading of the new testament (which is common to all men) be an offense: more thē this I know not.

Now the Gentleman about his hour appointed, came again, and found Marbecke walking up and down the chamber. How now, quoth he, hast thou written nothing? yes Sir, quoth he, as much as I know. Well said, quoth the Gentleman, and took up the paper. Which when he had read, he cast it from him in a great fume, swearing by our lords body, that he would not for xx. pound, carry it to his L. and master. Therefore quoth he, go to it again, and advise thyself better, or else thou wilt set my Lord against thee, and then art thou utterly undone. By my troth Sir, quoth Marbecke, if his Lordshyppe shall keep me here these seven years, I can say no more then I have said. Then wilt thou repent it, quoth the Gentleman, and so putting up his penner and inkehorne, departed with the paper in his hand.

The third examination of Marbecke, before the Bishop of Winchester himself in his own house.

THe next day, which was Wednesday, by viii. of the clock in the morning, the bishop sent for Marbecke to his house at S. Mary Oueries, and as he was entering into the bishops hall, he saw the bishop himself coming out at a door in y ^e upper end thereof, with a rolle in his hand, and going toward the great wyndow, he called the poor man unto him and said: Marbecke, wilt thou cast away thyself? No my Lord quoth he, I trust. Yes, quoth the B. thou goest about it, for thou wilt utter nothing. What a devil made thee to meddle with the scriptures? Thy vocation was another way, wherein thou hast a goodly gift, if thou didst esteem it? Yes my Lord, quoth he, I do esteem it and have done my part therein, according to that little knowledge that God hath given me. And why the devil quoth the Bishop, dydst thou not hold thee there? and with that he flang away from the wyndow out of the Hall, the poor man following him from place to place, til he had brought him into a long gallery, and being there, y ^e bishop began on this wise: A sirha, quoth he, the nest of you is brokē I trow. And unfolding his roll (which was about an elne long) he said: Behold, here be your captains both Hobby and Haynes, with all the whole pacte of thy sect about Windsore, & yet wilt thou utter none of them. Alas my lord quoth he, how should I accuse them, by whō I know nothing? Well, quoth the bish. if thou wilt needs cast away thyself, who can let thee? What helpers haddest thou in setting forth thy book: Forsooth my lord, quoth he none. Now quoth the bishop? how can that be? It is not possible that thou shouldest do it without help. Truly my L. quoth he, I cannot tell in what part your lordship doth take it, but how soever it be, I will not deny but I did it without the help of any man save God alone. Nay quoth the B. I do not discōmend thy dilligēce, but what shuldest thou meddle with that thing which pertained not to thee?

And in speaking these words, one of his Chaplaynes, (called M. Medow) came up and stayed himself at a window, to whō the bishop said, here is a marvelous thing. This fellow hath taken upon him to set out the Concordance in english, which book whē it was set out in latyn was not done without the help and diligence of a dosen learned men at the least, and yet will he bear me in hand that he hath done it alone. But say what thou wilt, quoth the B. except God himself would come down from heaven and tell me so, I will not believe it: and so going forth to a window, where two great Bibles lay upon a cusshion, the one in Latin, and the other in English, he called Marbecke unto him, and pointing his finger to a place in the Latin Bible, said: Canst thou English this sentence? Nay my L. quoth he, I trow I be not so cunning to give it a perfect English, but I can set out the English thereof in the English Bible. Let see, quoth the B. Then Marbecke turning the English Bible, found out the place by and by, and read it to the Bishop. So he tried him a three or four times, till one of his men came up and told him the Priest was ready to go to Mass.

And as the B. was going, said the Gentleman which had examined Marbecke in the Marshalsey the day before: Shall this fellow write nothing while your Lordship is at mass, for he passeth not on it. It maketh no matter quoth the Bishop, for he will tell nothing, and so went down to hear Mass, leaving Marbecke alone in y ^e gallery. The B. was no sooner down, but the Gentleman came up again with ink and paper. Come sirha quoth he, my Lord will have you occupied till Mass be done, perswadyng him with fair words, that he should be soon dispatched out of trouble, if he would use truth and plainness. Alas sir, quoth he, what will my Lord have me to do? for more then I wrote to his Lordship yesterday, I cannot? Well, well, go to quoth the Gentleman, & make speed, and so went his way. There was no remedy but Marbecke must now write some thing: wherefore he calling to God again in his mind, wrote a few words as nye as he could frame them, to those he had written the day before. When the B. was come from Mass, and had looked on the writing, he pushed it from him, saying: what shall this do? It hath neither head nor foot. There is a marvelous sect of them (quoth the B. to his men) for the devil cannot make one of them to bewray another. Then was there nothing among the Bishops Gentlemen, as they were making him ready to go to the court, but Crucisige upon the poor man. And when the bishops white ratchet was on him and all: well Marbecke, quoth he, I am now going to the Court, and was purposed, if I had found thee tractable, to have spoken to the kings majesty for thee and to have given thee thy meat, drink, & lodging here in mine house: but seeing thou art so willful and so stubborn, thou shalt go to the devil for me.

Then was he carried down by the B. men, with many railing words. And coming through the great chamber, there stood D. London, with two mo of his fellows, waiting the bishops coming: and passing by them into the Hall, he was there received of his keeper, and carried to prison again. It was not half an hour after, ere that the B. sent one of his Gentlemen to the under keeper called Stokes, commanding him to put irons upon Marbecke, and to keep him fast shut in a chamber alone, and when he should bring him down to dinner or supper, to see that he spake to no man, nor no man to him: & furthermore, y ^t he should suffer no manner of person (not his own wife) to come & see him or minister anything unto him. When the porter (who was the cruellest man that might be, to all such as were laid in for any matter of religion, and yet as God would, favorable to this poor man) had received this commandment from the B. he clapt irons upon him & shut him up, giving warning to all the house, y ^t no man should speak or talk to Marbecke, whensoever he was brought down, and so he continued the space of iii. wekes & more, till his wife was suffered to come unto him.

The suit of Marbeckes wife to the Bishop of Winchester.

MArbeckes wife, at the time of her husbands apprehension, had a young child of a quarter old, sucking upon her breast: & when her husband was taken from her, & had away to the Counsail, not knowing what should be come of him, she left the child and all, and gate her up to Londō, and hearing her husband to be in the Marshalsey, goeth thither. But when she came there, she could in no wise be suffered to see him, which greatly augmented her sorrow. Then by counsel of friends, she gate her to the B. of Winchester (for other help was there none to be had at y ^t time) making great suit to have his license to go & see her husband, and to help him with such things as he lacked. Nay quoth the B. thy husband is acquainted with all the heretics that be in the Realm, both on this side the Sea and beyond, and yet will he utter none of them. Alas my Lord quoth she, my husband was never beyond the seas, nor no great traveler in the Realm to be so acquainted, therefore good my Lord let me go see him. But all her earnest suit from day today would not help, but still he put her of, harping always upon this string: thy husband will utter nothing. At the last, she finding him in the court at s. James going toward his chamber, was so bold to take him by y ^e ratchet and say: O my Lord, these 18. days I have troubled your Lordship: now for the love of God, and as ever ye came of a woman, put me of no longer, but let me go to my husband. And as she was standing with the Bishop & his men, in a blind corner going to his chamber, one of the kings servants called Henry Carrike, and her next neighbor, chanced to be by: & hearing the talk between the B. and her, desired his Lordship to be good Lord unto the poor woman, which had her own mother lying bedred upon her hands, beside 5. or 6. children. I promise you quoth the B. her husband is a great heretic, & hath read more scripture then any man in the Realm hath done. I cannot tell my Lord, quoth Carrike, what he is inwardly, but outwardly he is as honest a quiet neighbor as ever I dwelt by. He will tell nothing quoth the B. He knoweth a great sort of false harlots, and will not utter thē. Yes my Lord quoth Carrike, he will tell, I dare say, for he is an honest man. Well, quoth the B. (speaking to the wife) thou seemest to be an honest woman, and if thou love thy husband well, go to him, and give him good counsel, to utter such naughty fellows as he knoweth, and I promise thee he shall have what I can do for him: for I do fancy him well for his Art, wherein he had pleased me as well as any man: and so stepping into his chamber, said she should have his letter to the keeper. But his mind being changed he sent out his ring by a Gentleman, which Gentleman delivered the ring to his man, charging him with the Bishops message. And so his man went with the woman to the water side, & took boat, who never rested railing on her husband all the way, till they came to y ^e prison: which was no small cross unto the poor woman.

And when they were come to the Marshalsey: the messenger shown the B. ring to the Porter, saying: Master Stokes, my Lord willeth you by this token, that ye suffer this woman to have recourse to her husband: but he straitly chargeth you, that ye search her both coming & going least she bring or carry any letters to or fro, & that she bring nobody unto him, nor no word from no mā. God's blood quoth the Porter (who was a foul swearer) what will my Lord have me to do? Can I let her to bring word from any man? Either let her go to her husband, or let her not go for I see nothing by him but an honest man. The poor woman fearing to be repulsed, spake the Porter fair, saying: Good master be content, for I have found my Lord very good Lord unto me. This young man is but the Gentleman's servant which brought the ring from my Lord, & I think doth his message a great deal more straiter then my Lord commanded the Gentleman, or that the Gentleman his master commanded him. But nevertheless good M. quoth she, I shall be content to strip myself before you both coming and going, so far as any honest woman may do with honesty. For I intend no such thing, but only to comfort and help my husband. Then the Messenger said no more, but went his way, leaving the womā there, who from that time forth, was suffered to come and go at her pleasure.

The fourth examination of Marbecke, before the Commissioners in the Bishop of London's house.

ABout a three weeks before Whitsonday, was Marbecke sent for to the B. of London's house, where sat in Commission Doctor Capon, Bishop of Salisbury, Doctor Skyp Bishop of Harford, Doct. Goodricke Bishop of Eli, Doct. Okyng, Doct. May, and the Bishop of London's Scribe, having before them all Marbeckes books. Then said the Bishop of Salisbury: Marbecke, we are here in commission sent frō the kings majesty, to examine thee of certain things whereof thou must be sworn to answer us faithfully & truly. I am content my lord quoth he, to tell you the truth so far as I can, and so took his oath. Then the Bishop of Salisbury laid forth before him, his 3. books of notes, demanding whose hand they were. He answered they were his own hand, & notes which he had gathered out of other men's works, 6. years ago. For what cause quoth the Bishop of Salisbury diddest thou gather them? For none other cause my Lord, quoth he, but to come by knowledge. For I being unlearned & desirous to understand some part of scripture, thought by reading of learned men's works to come the sooner thereby, & where as I found any place of Scripture opened and expounded by thē, that I noted as ye see, with a letter of his name in the margent, that had set out the work. So me think quoth the Bishop of Eli (who had one of the books of notes in his hand all y ^e time of their sitting) thou hast read of all sorts of books both good and bad, as seemeth by the notes. So I have my Lord, quoth he. And to what purpose, quoth the Bishop of Salis. by my truth, quoth he, for no other purpose but to see every man's mind. Then the B. of Salis. drew out a quire of the Concordance, and laid it before the B. of Harford, who looking upon it a while, lifted up his eyes to D. Oking (standing next him) and said: Thys man hath ben better occupied, then a great sort of our priests. To the which he made no answer.

Then said the Bishop of Salisbury, whose help hadst thou in setting forth this book? Truly my Lord, quoth he, no help at all. How couldest thou, quoth the bishop, invent such a book, or know what a Concordance meant, w ^t out an instructer. I will tell your Lordship, quoth he, what instructer I had to begin it. When Thomas Matthews bible came first out in print, I was much desirous to have one of them: and being a poor man not able to buy one of them, determined with myself to borrow one among my friends, & to write it forth. And when I had written out the 5. books of Moses in fair great paper, & was entered into the book of Joshua, my friend M. Turner chanced to steal upon me unawares, & seeing me writing out the Bible, asked me what I meant thereby. And when I had told him the cause: Tush, quoth he, thou goest about a vain and tedious labor. But this were a profitable work for thee, to set out a Concordance in English. A Concordance said I? what is that? Then he told me it was a book to find out any word in the whole Bible by the letter, & that there was such a one in Latin already. Then I told him I had no learning to go about such a thing. Enough, quoth he, for that mater, for it requireth not so much learning, as diligence. And seeing thou art so painful a man, and one that cannot be unoccupied, it wer a goodly exercise for thee. And this (my Lord) is all the instruction that ever I had before or after, of any man. What is that Turner, quoth the B. of Salis.? Mary, quoth D, May, an honest learned man, and a Bachelor of Divinity, and sometime a fellow in Magdalene college in Oxford. Howe couldest thou, quoth the B. of Salisb. with this instruction, bring it to this order and form, as it is? I borrowed a Latin Concordance, quoth he, and began to practice my wit, and at last with great labor and diligence, brought it into this order, as your lordship doth see. A good wit with diligence, quoth the bysh. of Harford, may bring hard things to pass. It is great pity quoth the Bish. of Eli, he had not the Latin tongue. So it is, quoth D. May. Yet cannot I believe, quoth the Bishop of Salisb. that he hath done anymore in this work, then written it out after some other that is learned.

My Lord's, quoth Marbecke, I shall beseech you all to pardon me what I shall say, and grant to my request if it shall seem good unto you. Say what thou wilt, quoth the Bishops. I do marvel greatly wherefor I should be so much examined for this book, & whether I have committed any offense in doing of it or no? If I have, then were I loathe any other to be molested or punished for my fault. Therefore to clear all men in this matter, this is my request, that ye will try me in the rest of the boke y ^t is undone. Ye see that I am yet but in the letter L. Beginning now at M. & take out what word ye will of that letter, & so in every letter following, and give me the words in a piece of paper and set me in a place alone where it shall please you, with ink and paper, the English Bible, and the Latin concordance: and if I bring you not these words written in the same order & form that the rest before is, then was it not I that did it, but some other.

By my truth Marbecke, quoth the Bishop of Eli, that is honestly spokē, and then shalt thou bring many out of suspicion. That he shall, quoth they all. Then they bad Doct. Oking draw out such words as he thought best in a piece of paper, and so rose up: and in the mean time, fell into other familiar talk with Marbecke (for the Bishop of Eli and Harford both, were acquainted w ^t him afore, and his friends, so far as they durst) who perceiving the Bishops so pleasauntly disposed, besought them to tell him in what danger he stood. Shall I tell thee Marbecke, quoth the Bishop of Sarum? Thou art in better case then any of thy fellows, of whom there be some would give 40.li. to be in no worse case then thou art, whose sayings the other affirmed. Then came D. Oking with the words he had written, & while the Bishops were perusing them over, Doctor Oking said to Marbecke (very friendly) on this wise: Good M. Marbecke make hast, for the sooner ye have done, the sooner ye shall be delivered. And as the Bishops were going away, the bishop of Harforde took Marbecke a little aside, and informed him of a word which D. Oking had written false, and also to comfort him, said: Fear not, there can no law condemn you, for anything that ye have done, for if ye had written a 1000. heresies, so longe as they be not your sayings nor your opinions, the law cannot hurt you. And so went they all with the Bishop of Sarum to dinner, who taking the pore man with them, who dined in the hall at the Stewardes borde: and beside that, had wine and meat sent down from the bishops table.

When dinner was done, the Bishoppe of Sarum came down into the Hall, commanding ink and paper to be given to Marbecke, and the 2. books to one of his men to go with him, at whose going he demanded of the Bishop, what time his Lordship would appoint him to do it in. Against tomorrow this time, quoth the Bishop, which was about 2. of the clock, and so departed.

Marbecke now being in his prison chamber, fell to his business, & so applied the thing, that by the next day when the Bishop sent for him again, he had written so much, in the same order & form he had done the rest before, as contained iii. sheets of paper and more. The which, when he had delivered to the Bishop of Sarum (Doc. Oking standing by) he marveled and said: Well Marbecke, thou hast now put me out of all doubt. I assure thee, quoth he (putting up the paper into his bosom) the king shall see this or I be 24. hours elder: but he dissembled every word, and thought nothing less then so. For afterward, the matter being come to light, and known to his grace what a boke the poor man had begun, which the Bishops would not suffer him to finish: the king said he was better occupied then they that took it from him. So Marbecke departed from the bishop of Sarum to prison again, and heard no more of his book.

The 5. examination of Marbecke, before D. Oking and M. Knight Secretary to the Bishop of Winchester, in S. Mary Ouers Church.

VPon Whitsonday following, at after noon, was Marbecke sent for once again to S. Mary Ouers, where he found D. Oking with another gentleman in a gown of Damaske, with a cheyne of gold about his neck (no mo in all the church but they two) sitting together in one of the stalls, their backs toward the church door, looking upon an Epistle of M. John Calvin's, which Marbecke had written out. And when they saw the prisoner come, they rose and had him up to a side alter, leaving his keeper in the body of the church alone. Now as soon as Marbecke saw the face of a gentleman (which before he knew not by reason of his apparel) he saw it was the same person that first examined him in the Marshalsey, and did also cause him to write in the Bishops gallery, but never knew his name, till now he heard Doct. Oking call him M. Knight. This M. Knight held forth the paper to Marbecke and said, look upon this, and tell me whose hand it is. When Marbecke had taken the paper, & seen what it was, he confessed it to be all his hand saving y ^e first leaf, and the notes in the margent Thē I perceive, quoth Knight, thou wilt not go from thine own hand. No Sir quoth he, I will deny nothing that I have done. Thou doest well in that, quoth Knight, for if thou shouldest, we have testimonies enough besides, to try out thy hand by: but I pray thee tell me, whose hand is the last leaf? That I cannot tell you, quoth Marbecke. Thē how camest thou by it, quoth Knight? Forsooth I will tell you quoth he. There was a priest dwelling with us upon a v. or .vi. years ago, called Marshall: who sent it unto me with the first leaf written, desiring me to write it out with speed, because the copy could not be spared past an hour or twain and so I wrote it out, and sent him both the copy and it again.

And howe came this hand in the margent, quoth he, which is a contrary hand to both the other? That I will tell you, quoth Marbecke▪ When I wrote it out at the first, I made so much hast of it, that I understood not the matter: wherefore I was desirous to see it again, and to read it with more deliberation, and being sent to me the second time, it was thus coted in the margent as ye see. And shortly after this, it was his chance to go beyond the seas (where he lived not long) by reason whereof the Epistle remaineth with me: but whether the first leaf, or y ^e notes in the margent were▪ his hand, or whose hand else, that I cannot tell. Tush, quoth D. Oking to M. Knight, he knoweth well enough, that the notes be Heynes own hand, If you know so much, quoth Marb. ye know more then I do, for I tell you truly I know it not. By my faith Marbecke, quoth Knyghte, if thou wilt not tell by fair means: those fingers of thine shall be made to tell. By my truth Syr, quoth Marbecke, if ye do tear the whole body in pieces (I trust in God) ye shall never make me accuse man wrongfully. If thou be so stubborn, quoth D. O king, thou wilt die for it. Dye M. Okyng, quoth he? Wherefore should I die. You told me the last day before the Bishops, that as soon as I had made an ende of the piece of Concordance they took me, I should be delivered, and shall I now die? This is a sudden mutation. You seemed then to be my friend: but I know the cause, ye have red the ballet I made of Moses chair, and that hath set you against me, but whensoever ye shall put me to death, I doubt not to die God's true man and the kings. How so, quoth Knight? howe canst thou die a true man unto the king, when thou hast offended his laws? Is not this Epistle, and moste of thy notes thou hast written, directly against the 6. articles? No syr quoth Marbecke: I have not offended the kings laws therein: for since the first time I began with the Concordance (which is almost 6. years ago) I have been occupied in nothing else: So that both this Epistle, and all the notes I have gathered, were written a great while before the 6. Articles came forth, and are clearly remitted by the kings general pardon. Trust not to that, quoth Knight, for it will not help thee. No I warrant him, quoth Doct. Okyng, and so going down to the body of the church, they committed him to his keeper, who had him away to prison again.

The suit of Filmers wife, to the Bishops which sat in commission, for her husband.

IN like manner, y ^e wife of Filmer knowing her husbands trouble to be only procured of malice by Simon's his old enemy, made great suit and labor unto the Bishops which were commissioners, desiring no more of them, but that it would please their goodness to examine her husband before them, and to hear him make his purgation. Thys was her only request to every of the Bishops from day today, wheresoever she could find them. In so much that two of the Bishops (Eli and Harforde) were very sorry (considering the importune and reasonable suit of the woman) that it lay not in them to help her. Thus travailing long up and down from one to another, to have her husband examined, it was her chance at the last to find the Bishops all three together in the Byshoppe of Eli his place, unto whom she said: O good my Lord's for the love of God, let now my poor husband be brought forth before you, while ye be here all togethers. For truly my Lord's, there can nothing be justly laid against him, but that of malicious envy and spite, Simon's hath wrought him this trouble. And you my Lord of Salisburye, quoth the poor woman, can testify (if it would please your lordship to say the truth) what malice Simons bare to my husband when they were both before you at Salisbury (little more then a year ago) for the Uicar of Wyndsors matter. For as your Lordship knoweth, when my husband had certified you of the Priests sermon, which you said was plain heresy: then came Symons (after the Prieste himself had confessed it) and would have defended the priests error before your Lordship, and have had my husband punished. At what time it pleased your Lordship to commend and praise my husband for his honesty, and to rebuke Symons for maintaining the Priest in his error, & thereupon commanded the priest to rekant his heresy at his coming home to Windsore. This (my Lord) you know to be true. And now my Lord's, quoth the woman, it is most certain, that for this cause only did Symons evermore afterward threaten my husband to be even with him. Therefore good my Lord's, call my husband before you, and hear him speak: and if ye find any other matter against him then this that I have told you, let me suffer death. Is this so my Lord, quoth the B. of Eli and Harforde? and the other could not deny it. Then they spake Latin to the B. of Salisbury, and he to them, & so departed. For the matter was so wrought between Doctor London and Symons, that Filmer could never be suffered to come before the Commissioners to be examined.

The manner of their condemnations, and howe they died.

WHen the time drew nigh that the kings majesty (who was newly married to that good and virtuous Lady Katherine Parre) should make his progress abroad, the foresaid Stephen Gardener B. of Winchester had so compassed his matters, that no man bare so great a swinge about the king, as he did. Wherewith the Gospellers were so quailed, that the best of them all looked every hour to be clapt in the neck. For the saying went abroad, that the B. had bent his bow to shoot at some of the head Deare: but in the mean time 3. or 4. of the poor rascals were caught, that is to say, Anthony Person, Henry Filmer, and John Marbecke, and sent to Wyndsore by the sheriffes men, the Saturday before S. James day, and laid fast in the towns Gaile: and Testwood (who had kept his bed) brought out of his house vpō crouches, and laid with them. But as for Bennet, (which should have been the fifth man) his chance was to be sick of the Pestilence, and having a great sore upon him, was left behind in the bish. of London's gaile, whereby he escaped the fire.

Now these men being brought to Wyndsore, there was a sessions special procured to be hold̄ the Thursday after, which was S. Annes day. Against the which Sessions (by the counsel of D. London and Symons) were all the farmers belonging to the College of Wyndesore, warned to appear: because they could not pike out Papists enough in the town, to go upon the jury. The judges that day were these.

Doctor Capon Bishop of Salisbury.
Syr William Essex Knight,
Syr Thomas Bridges Knight.
Syr Humfrey Foster Knight.
Master Franklen Dean of Wyndsore.
And Fachel of Reading.

When these had taken their places, and the prisoners brought forth before them, then Robert Ockam occupying for that day the Clarke of peace his • oume, called Anthony Person, according to the manner of the Courte, and red his Inditement, which was this.

First, that he should preach two years before, in a place called Wyngfield, and there should say: that like as Christ was hanged between two thieves, even so whē the priest is at mass, and hath consecrated and lifted him up over his head, then he hangeth between 2. thieves, except he preach the word of God truly, as he hath taken upon him to do.

Also that he said to the people in the Pulpet: ye shall not eat the body of Christ, as it did hang upon the Cross, gnawing it with your teeth, that the blood run about your lips, but you shall eat him this day, as ye eat him tomorrow, the next day, and every day: for it refresheth not the body, but the soul.

Also, after he had preached and commended the Scripture, calling it the word of God, he said as followeth: This is the word, this is the bread, this is the body of Christ.

Also he said, that Christ sitting with his Disciples, took bread, and blessed, and brake it, and gave it to his disciples, saying: Take and eat it. This is my body. What is this to us, but to take the Scripture of God, and to break it to the people.

To this, Anthony answered & said: I will be tried by God and his holy word, and by the true Church of Christ, whether this be heresy or no, whereof ye have Indited me this day. So long as I preached the Bishop of Rome and his filthy traditions, I was never troubled: but since I have taken upon me to preach Christ and his Gospel, ye have always sought my life. But it maketh no matter, for when you have taken your pleasure of my body, I trust it shall not lie in your powers to hurt my soul. Thou callest us thieves, quoth the Bishop. I say, quoth Anthony, ye are not only thieves but murderers, except ye preach and teach the word of God purely and sincerely to the people, which ye do not nor never did, but have allured them to all Idolatry, superstition and hypocrisy, for your own lucre & glory sake, through the which ye are become rather bitesheepes then true bishops, biting and devouring the poor sheep of Christ like ravening wolves never satisfied with blood: which God will require at your hands one day, dout it not. Then spake Symons his accuser, standing within the bar, saying: It is pity this fellow had not been burnt long ago as he deserved. In faith (quoth Anthony) if you had as you have deserved, you were more worthy to stand in this place then I: but I trust in the last day when we shall both appear before the tribunal seat of Christ, that then it will be known which of us 2. hath best deserved this place. Shall I have so long a day, quoth Symons, holding up his finger? Nay, then I care not: and so the matter was jested out.

Robert Testwoode.

THen was Testwoode called, and his Inditement read, which was that he should say in the time that the priest was lifting up the Sacrament: what wilt thou lift him so hie? What yet hier? Take heed, let him not fall.

To this Testwoode answered, saying it was but a thing maliciously forged of his enemies to bring him to his death. Yes (quoth the B.) thou hast been seen, that whē the Priest should lift up the Sacrament over his head, then wouldest thou look down upon thy book, or some other way, because thou wouldest not abide to look upon y ^e blessed Sacrament. I beseech you my Lord▪ quoth Testwood, whereon did he look that marked me so well? Mary quoth Bucklayer the Kynges Attorney, he could not be better occupied, thē to mark such heretics that so despised the blessed Sacrament.

Henry Filmer.

THen was Filmer called and his Inditement read: that he should say that the Sacrament of the saultare is nothing else but a • imilitude and a ceremony: and also if God be in the Sacrament of the altar, I have eaten twenty God's in my days.

Here ye must understand, that these words were gathered of certain communication which should be between Filmer and his brother. The tale went thus.

This Henry Filmer coming upon a Sunday from Clewer his Parish church, in the company of one or two of his neighbors, chanced in the way to meet his brother (which was a very poor laboring man) and asked him whether he went. To the Church said he. And what to do, quoth Filmer? To do quoth he, as other men do. Nay, quoth Filmer, you go to hear mass and to see your God. What if I do so, quoth he? If that be God (should Filmer say) I have eaten 20. God's in my days. Tourne again fool and go home with me, and I will read thee a Chapter out of the Bible, that shall be better then all that thou shalt hear or see there.

This tale was no sooner brought to Doct. London by William Symons (Filmers utter enemy) but he sent for the poor man home to his house, where he chearished him with meat and money, telling him he should never lack, so long as he lived: that y ^e seely poor man (thinking to have had a daily friend of D. London) was content to do and say whatsoever he and Symons would have him say or do against his own brother. And when D. London had thus won the pore man, he retained him as one of his household men, until the court day was come, and then sent him up to witness this foresaid tale against his brother. Which • ale Filmer denied utterly, saying that D. London (for a little meat and drink sake) had set him on, and made him to say what his pleasure was: wherefor my Lord (quoth Filmer to the bishop) I beseech your Lordship weigh the matter indifferently, for as much as there is no man in all this town, y ^t can or will testify with him, that ever he heard any such talk between him and me: and if he can bring forth any that will witness the same with him, I refuse not to die. But say what he could, it would not prevail.

Then Filmer seeing no remedy, but that his brothers accusemēt should take place, he said: Ah brother, what cause hast thou to show me this unkindness? I have always ben a natural brother unto thee and thine, and helped you all, to my power, from time to time, as thou thyself knowest: and is this a brotherly part, thus to reward me now for my kindness? God forgive it thee my brother, & give thee grace to repent. Then Filmer looking over his shoulder, desired some good body to let him see the book of statutes. Hys wife being at the end of the hall, and hearing her husband call for the book of statutes, ran down to the keeper, and brought up the book, & gat it conveyed to her husband.

The Bishop seeing the book in his hand, starte him up from the bench in a great sum, demanding who had givē the prisoner that book, commanding it to be taken from him, and to make search who had brought it, swearing by the faith of his body, he should go to prison. Some said it was his wife, some said the keeper. Like enough (my lord) quoth Symons, for he is one of the same sort, & as worthy to be here as the best, if he were rightly served. But howsoever it was, the truth would not be known, and so the Bishop sat him down again.

Then said Filmer: O my Lord, I am this day judged by a law, & why should not I see the law that I am judged by? The law is, I should have two lawful witnesses and here is but one, which would not do as he doeth, but that he is forced thereunto by the suggestion of mine enemies. Nay, quoth Bucklayer the kings atturney, thine heresy is so heinous, and abhorteth thine own brother so much, that it forceth him to witness against thee, which is more then two other witnesses.

Thus (as ye see) was Filmer brought unjustly to his death, by the malice of Symons and D. London, who had enticed that wretched caitiff his brother, to be their minister to work his confusion. But God which is a just reuēger of all falsehode & wrongs, would not suffer that wretch long to live upon earth, but the next year following, he being taken up for a laborer to go to Bullaine, had not been there three days, ere that (in exonerating of nature) a Gunne took him and tore him all to pieces: And so was these words of Solomon fulfilled: A false witness shall not remain unpunished.

John Marbecke.

THen was Marbecke called, and his Inditement read, which was that he should say: That the holy Mass, when the Priest doeth consecrate the body of our Lord, is polluted, deformed, sinful, and open robbery of the glory of God, from the which a Christian heart ought both to abhor and flee. And the elevation of the Sacrament is the similitude of the setting up of Images of the calves in the Temple built by Jeroboam: and that it is more abomination then the sacrifices done by the Jews in Jereboam's temple to those calves. And that certain and sure it is that Christ himself is made in the mass, man's laughing stock.

To this he answered and said, that these words whereof they had indicted him, were not his, but the words of a learned man called John Calvin, and drawn out of a certain Epistle which the said Calvin had made, which Epistle he had but only written out, and that long before the 6. Articles came forth: so that now he was discharged of that offense by the kings general pardon, desiring that he might enjoy the benefit thereof.

Then was the Iurye called, which were all Farmers belonging to the College of Wyndsore, whereof few or none had ever seen those men before, upon whose life and death they went. Wherefore the prisoners (counting the farmers as partial) desired to have the Towns men, or such as did know them, and had seen their daily conversations, in the place of the Farmers, or else to be equally joined w ^t them: but that would not be, for the matter was otherwise foreseen and determined.

Now when the Jury had taken their oth and all, Bucklayer the kings atturney began to speak: and first he alleged many reasons against Anth. Person, to prove him an heretic. Whych when Anth. would have disproved, the Bishop said: let him alone, Syr, he speaketh for the K. & so went Bucklayer forth with his matter, making every man's cause as heinous to the hearers, as he could devise. And when he had done and said what he would, then Sir Humfrey Foster spake to the Quest in the favor of Marbecke on this wise: Masters quoth he, ye see there is no man here that accuseth or layeth any thing to the charge of this poor man Marbecke, saving he hath written certain things of other men's sayings with his own hand, whereof he is discharged by the kings general pardon: therefore ye ought to have a conscience therein. Then start up Fachel at the lower ende of the benche, and said: What can we tell whether they were written before the pardon, or after? They may as well be written since as afore, for anything that we know. These words of Fachel (as every man said) were the cause of Marbeckes casting that day.

Then went the Jury up to the chamber over the place where the judges sat, and in the mean time, went all the Knights and gentlemen abroad, saving the Bishop Syr William Essex, and Fachell, which three sat still upon the Benche till all was done. And when the Jury had been togethers above in the chamber, about the space of a quarter of an hour, up goeth Symons (of his own brain) unto them▪ and tarried there a pretty while, and came down again. After that, came one of the Jury down to the bishop, and talked with him and the other twain a good while, whereby many conjectured, that the Jury could not agree of Marbecke. But whether it were so or no, it was not long after his going up again, ere that they came down to give their verdit. And being required according to the form of the law to say their minds: one called Hyde dwelling beside Abyngton, in a lordshyp belonging to the College of Wyndsore, speaking in the mouthe of the rest, said they were all guilty.

Then the Judges beholding the prisoners a good while (some with watery eyes) made courtesy who should give judgment. Fachel requiring the bishop to do it, he said he might not: the other also being required, said they would not. Then said Fachel, it must be done: one must do it, and if no man will, then will I. And so Fachell being lowest of all the bench, gave judgment. Then Marbeck being y ^e last upon whom sentence was given, cried to the bish. saying: Ah my Lord, you told me otherwise when I was before you and the other two bishops. You said then, that I was in better case then any of my fellows, and is your saying come to this? Ah my L. you have deceived me. Then the B. casting up his hand, said he could not do withal.

Now the prisoners being condemned and had away, prepared themselves to die on the morrow, comforting one another in the death and passion of their master Christ, who had led the way before them, trusting that the same lord which had made them worthy to suffer so far for his sake, would not now withdraw his strength from them, but give them steadfast faith & power to overcome those fiery torments, and of his free mercy and goodness (without their deserts) for his promise sake, receive their souls. Thus lay they all the night long (til very dead sleep took them) calling to God for his aide and strength, and praying for their persecutors, which of blind zeal and ignorance had done they wist not what, that God of his merciful goodness would forgive them, and turn their hearts to the love and knowledge of his blessed and holy word: Yea such heavenly talk was among them that night, that the hearers watching the prison without, whereof the Sheriff himself was one, with diverse gentlemen moe, were constrained to shed out plenty of tears, as they themselves confessed.

On the next morrow, which was Friday, as the prysoners were all preparing themselves to go to suffer, word was brought them that they should not die that day. The cause was this. The Bishop of Sarum, and they among them had sent a letter by one of the Sheriffs Gentlemen, called M. Frost, to the bishop of Winchester (the Court being then at Oking) in the favor of Marbecke. At the sight of which letter, the bishop straight way went to the king, and obtained his pardon.

Which being granted, he caused a warrant to be made out of hand for the sheriffes discharge, delivering the same to the messenger, who with speed returned with great joy (for the love he bare to the party) bringing good news to the town, of Marbeckes pardon: whereat many rejoiced. Of this pardon were diverse conjectures made. Some said it was by the suit of the good Shriffe syr William Barington, and syr Humffray Foster (with other Gentlemen moe that favored Marbeck) to the B. of Sarum and the other Commissioners, that the letter was sent.

Some said again, that it came of the Bishop of Sarum and Fachels first motion, being pricked in conscience, for that they had so slēderly cast him away. Other thought again, that it was a policy purposed afore, by the Bishop of Winchester, of Sarum, and of D. London, because they would seem to be merciful. Which conjecture rose upon this occasion. There was one Sadocke dwelling in the town which was great with D. London and Symons: and he should say 4. days before the sessions began, that the prisoners should be all cast and condemned, but Marbecke should have his pardon.

Other there were that thought the foresaid Bishops with D. London, had done it for this purpose: that he now having his life, would rather utter such mē as they would have him to do, then to come in like danger again. Which conjecture rose upon this: Symons meeting with Marbeckes wife, said thus unto her: your husband may thank God & good friends: my Lord of Winchester is good Lord unto him, which hath got his pardon. But shall I tell you, quoth he? his pardon will be to none effect, except he tell the truth of things to my Lord & other of the counsel, when he shall be demanded, for unto that purpose only is he reserved. Alas sir, quoth she, what can he tell? Well womā quoth Symons, I tell thee plain, if he do not so, never look to have thy husband out of prison, and so departed from her.

The like meaning did M. Arche make to Marbecke him self, on the saterday in y ^e morning, that the men should be brent, when he came to confess them. I have nothing, quoth he, to say unto you Marbecke at this time, but hereafter you must be content to do as shall be enjoined you: meaning he should be forced to do some unlawful thing, or else to lie in perpetual prison. And this was moste likely to have been attempted, if they had proceeded in their purpose: whose intent was to have gone thorough the whole realm, in the like sort as they had begun at Wyndsore, as the Bishop of Sarum confessed openly and said, that he trusted ere Christmas day following, to visit and cleanse a good part thereof. But moste commonly, God sendeth a shrewed Cow short horns, or else many a thousand in England had smarted.

On saterday in the morning, that the prisoners should go to execution, came into the prison two of the Canons of the College, the one called Doctor Blithe, and the other master Arche, which two were sent to be their confessors, master Arche asked them, if they would be confessed, and they said yea. Then he demanded if they would receive the Sacrament. Yea said they with all our hearts. I am glad quoth Arche, to hear you say so, but the law is (quoth he) that it may not be ministered to none that are condemned of heresy. But it is enough for you that ye do desire it. And so had them up to the Hall to hear their confessions, because the prison was full of people. Doctor Blyth took Anthony Person to him to confess, and master Arche the other two. But how soever the matter went between the Doctor & Anthony, he tarried not long w ^t him but came down again, saying he would no more of his doctrine. Do you call him Doct. Blith, quoth Anthony? He may be called Doct. Blind for his learning, as far as I see. And soon after, the other two came down also. Thē Anthony seeing much people in the prison, began to say y ^e Lord's prayer, whereof he made a marvelous godly declaration, wherein he continued til the Officers came to set them away, and so made an end. And taking their leave of Marbecke (their prison fellow) they praised God for his deliverance, wishing to him the increase of godliness & virtue, and last of all besought him heartily to help them with his prayer unto God, to make them strong in their afflictions, and so kissing him one after another, departed.

Now as the prisoners passed thorough the people in y ^e streets, they desired all the faithful people to pray for them, & to stand fast in the truth of the gospel, & not to be moved at their afflictions, for it was the happiest thing that ever came to them. And ever as Doctor Blithe and Arche (who rod on each side the prisoners) would persuade them to turn to their mother holy Church: away would Anthony cry, away with your Romish doctrine and all your trompery, for we will no more of it. When Filmer was come to his brothers door, he stayed and called for his brother, but he could not be seen, for Doctor London had kept him out of sight that day, for the nonce.

And when he had called for him three or four times, and saw he came not, he said: and will he not come? Then God forgive him and make him a good man. And so going forth they came to the place of execution, where Anthony Person with a cheerful countenance, embraced y ^e post in his arms, and kissing it, said: Now welcome mine own sweet wife: for this day shalt thou and I be married together in the love and peace of God.

And being all three bound to the post, a certain young man of Filmers acquaintance, brought him a pot of drink, asking if he would drink. Yea quoth Filmer, I thank you. And now my brother quoth he, I shall desire you in the name of the living Lord, to stand fast in y ^e truth of the gospel of Jesus Christ, which you have received, and so taking the pot at his hand, asked his brother Anthony, if he would drink. Yea brother Filmer quoth he, I pledge you in the Lord.

And when he had drunk, he gave the pot to Anthonye & Anthony likewise gave it to Testwoode. Of which drinking their adversaries made a jesting stock, reportyng abroad that they were all drunk & wist not what they said, when as they were none otherwise drunk then as the Apostles were, when the people said they were full of new wyne, as their deeds declared. For when Anthonye and Testwoode had both drunken, & given the pot from them, Filmer rejoicing in the Lord, said: Be merry my brethren, & lift up your hearts unto God, for after this sharp breakfast, I trust we shall have a good dinner in the kingdom of Christ our Lord and redeemer. At the which words Testwood lifting up his hands and eyes to heaven, desired the Lord above to receive his spirit. And Anthony Persone, pulling the straw unto him, laid a good deal thereof upon the top of his head, saying: Thys is God's hatte: now am I dressed like a true soldier of Christ, by whose merits only, I trust this day to enter into his joy. And so yielded they up their souls to the father of heaven, in the faith of his dear son Jesus Christ, w ^t such humility and steadfastness, that many which saw their patient suffering, confessed that they could have found in their hearts (at that present to have died with them.

How all their conspiracies were known.

YE have heard before of one Robert Bennet, howe he was at the first apprehended with the other four persons aforesaid, and committed to the B. of London's prison, and about the time he should have gone to Wyndsore, fell sick of the pestilence, by mean whereof he remained still in prison.

This Bennet, & Symons (ye shall understand) were the greatest familiars and company kepers y ^t were in all Windsore, & never (lightly) swerved the one frō the other, saving in matters of religiō, wherein they could never agree. For Bennet the one Lawyer, was an earnest Gospeller, & Simon's the other Lawyer, a cankered papist: but in all other worldly matters, they cleaved together like burrs.

Thys Bennet had spoken certain words against their little round God, for the which he was as far in as the best, and had suffered death with the other, if he had gone to Windsore when they went. And now that the mater was all done and finished, it was determined by the bishop of Salisburye, that Robert Ockam on the Mondaye after the men were burnt should go to the Bishop of Winchester with the whole process done at the Sessions the Thursday before.

Then Symons, at Bennets wives request, procured of the bishop of Salisbury his favorable letter to the bishop of Winchester for Bennets deliverance. Which letter Bennets wife (for as much as her own man was not at home, which should have gone with the letter) desired Robert Ockam to deliver it to y ^e Bishop, & to bring her word again: who said he would. So forth went Ockam toward the bishop of Winchester with his budget full of writings, to declare and open all things unto him that were done at Wyndsore Sessions: but all their wicked intents (as God would have it) were soon cut off, and their doings disclosed. For one of the Queens men (named Fulke) which had lien at Windsore all the time of the business, and had got knowledge what a number were privily indicted, and of Ockams going to the bishop of Winchester, gate to the Court before Ockam, and told sir Thomas Cardine & other of the privy chamber, how all the matter stood. Wherupon Ockam was laid for and had by the back, as soon as he came to Oking, and kept from the bishop.

On the next morrow very early, Bennets wife sent her man to the Courte after Ockam, to see howe he spedde with her husbands letter. And when he came there, he found sir Thomas Cardine walking with Ockam up and down the green before the Courte gate: whereat he marueled, to see Ockam with him so early, mistrusting the matter: whereupon he kept himself out of sight, till they had broken off their communication.

And as soon as he saw M. Cardine gone (leaving Ockam behind) he went to Ockam and asked him, if he had delivered his masters letter to the Bishop. No, said Ockam, the king remooueth this day to Gilforde, and I must go thither, and will deliver it there. Mary, quoth he, and I will go with you, to see what answer you shall have, and to carry word to my mistress, and so they rode to Gilford together. Where Bennets man (being better acquainted in the town then Ockam was) gat a lodging for them both, in a kinsmans house of his.

That done, he asked Ockam, if he would go and deliver his mistress letter to the Bishop. Nay (said Ockam) you shall go and deliver it yourself, and took him the letter. And as they were going in the streate togethers, and coming by the Earl of Bedfordes lodging (then Lord privy seal) Ockam was pulled in by the sleeve, & no more seen of Bennets man, till he saw him in the Marshalsey. Then went Bennets man to the bishops lodging and delivered his letter. And when the Bishop had red the contents thereof, he called for the man that brought it. Come Syrha, quoth he, you can tell me more by mouth, then the letter specifieth, & had him into a little garden. Now, quoth the Bishop, what say you to me? Forsoth my Lord, quoth he, I have nothing to say unto your Lordship, for I did not bring the letter to the Town. No quoth the Bishop, where is he that brought it? Forsoth my Lord quoth he, I left him busy at his lodging. Then he will come, quoth the Bishop. Bid him be with me betimes in the morning. I will quoth he, do your lordships commandment, and so he departed home to his lodging. And when his kinsfolks saw him come in, alas cosin, quoth they, we are all undone. Why so, quoth he, what is the matter? Oh said they, here hath been since you went, M. Padget the kings secretary, with sir Tho. Cardine of the privy chamber, and searched all our house for one that should come to the town w ^t Ockam: therefore make shift for yourself as soon as you cā. Is that all the matter, quoth he? then content yourself, for I will never flee one foot, hap what hap will. And as they were thus reasoning together, in came y ^e foresaid searchers again, & when M. Cardine saw Bennets man, he knew him very well, & said: was it thou that came to the town w ^t Ockam? Yea sir, quoth he. Now who the devil (quoth M. Cardine) brought thee in company w ^t that false knave? Then he told them his business, and the cause of his coming, which being known, they were satisfied, and so departed. The next day had Bennets man a discharge, for his master (procured by certain of the privy chamber) and so went home.

Now was Ockam all this while at my Lord privy Seals, where he was kept secret, til certain of the Counsaile had perused all his writings, among the which they found certain of the privy Chamber indicted, w ^t other the kings Officers, with their wives, that is to say, Sir Tho. Cardine, sir Phillip Hobby, with both their Ladies. M. Edmund Harman, M. Thomas Weldone, with Snowball and his wife. All these they had indicted by the force of the 6. Articles, as aiders, helpers, and maintainers of Anthony Person. And beside them, they had indicted of heresy (some for one thing, and some for another) a great number moe of the Kings true and faithful subjects. Whereof the kings Majesty being certified, his grace of his special goodness (without the suit of any man) gave to the foresaid Gentlemen of his privy Chamber, and other his servants with their wives, his gracious pardō. And as God would have the matter further known unto his majesty, as he road one day a huntinge in Gilforde Park, and saw the Sheriff with syr Humfrey Foster sitting on their horse backs together, he called them unto him, & asked of them, how his laws was executed at Windsore: Then they beseching his grace of pardon, told him plainly that in all their lives they never sat on matter under his graces authority, that went so much against their consciences, as the death of these men did, and up and told his grace so pitiful a tale of the casting away of these poor men, that the King turning his horsehead to depart from them, said: Alas poor Innocents.

After this, the king withdrew his favor from the B. of Winchester, & being more and more informed of the conspiracy of doctor London and Symons, he commanded certain of his counsel, to search out the ground thereof.

Whereupon Doctor London and Symons were apprehended and brought before the Counsail, and examined upon their oath of allegeaunce. And for denying their mischievous and traitorous purpose, which was manifestly proved to their faces, they were both perjured, and in fine, adjudged as perjured persons, to wear papers in Wyndsore, and Ockam to stand upon thē pillerie in the town of Newbery where he was borne▪

The judgment of all these 3. was to ride about Windsore, Reading and Newbery, with papers on their heads, and their faces turned to the horse tales, & so to stand upon the Pillerye in every of these Towns, for false accusation of the forenamed Martyrs, and for perjury.

And thus much touching the persecution of these good Saints of Windsore, according to the copy of their own acts, received and written by John Marbecke, who is yet alive, both a present witness, and also was then a partye of the said doings, and can testify the truth thereof.

Aunswere to the cavilling adversaries touching John Marbecke.

WHerefore against these crooked cauillers, which make so much ado against my former boke, because in a certain place I chanced to say that Bennette and Filmer had their pardon (when in deed it was Bennet and Marbecke) be it therefore known, protested, denounced, and notified, to all & singular such carpers, wranglers, exclamers, deprauers, with the whole brood of all such whisperers, railers, quarelpickers, corner creepers, fault finders & spidercatchers, or by what name else so ever they are to be titled that here I openly say, affirm, profess, hold, maintain & write the same as I said & wrote before in the latter castigations of my book: that is, that John Marbecke was with the other condemned, but not burned, cast by the law but by pardon saved, appointed with the rest to die, & yet not dead, but liveth (God be praised) & yet to this present day singeth merely, and playeth on the Organes, not as a dead man, amongst Foxes martyrs (as it hath pleased some in y ^e court to encounter against me) but as one witnessed & testified truly in the book of Foxes Martyrs to be a live. And therefore such manner of persons, if y ^e disposition of their nature be such; that they must needs find faults, then let them find them where they are, and where those faults by their finding may be corrected. But whereas they be corrected already, & found to their hands, & also amended before, let then these legend liars look on their own legends, and there cry out of lies, where they may find enough, and cease their bitinge there, where they have no just cause to bark.

And admit that I had not foresene and corrected this escape before, touching the matter of John Marbecke, but that the place still had remained in the boke, as it was, that is, that the said John Marbecke, which as yet alive, had then died & suffered w ^t the other 3. the same time at Wyndesore: yet what gentle or courteous reader, could have therein any just matter to triumph & insult against me, seeing the judicial acts, the records, & registers, yea & the bishops certificate, & also the write of execution remaining yet in Recorde, sent to the king, did lead me so to say and think? For what man writing histories, who cannot be in all places to se all things, but following his records & registers, where in he seeth the said Marbecke to be judged and condemned with the rest, would otherwise write or think, but that also he was executed and burned in the same company?

But now I correct and reform the same again, and first of all other, I find the fault, and yet am I found fault withal. I correct myself, and yet am I corrected of other. I warn the Reader of the truth, and yet am I a liar. The book it self showeth the escape, and biddeth in stead of 4. to read 3. burned, and yet is the book made a legēd of lies.

Briefly, where I prevent all occasion of cavilling to the uttermost of my diligence, yet cannot I have that law, which all other books have, that is, to recognise & reform mine own errata.

Wherefore to conclude, these men, whosoever they are if they will be satisfied, I have said enough: if they will not, whatsoever I cā say, it will not serve, and so I leave them: I would I could better satisfy them. God himself amend them.

The persecution in Calyce, with the Martyrdom of George Bucker, otherwise called Adam Damlyp, and others.

AT what time John Marbecke was in the Marshalsey, which was about the year of our Lord. 1544. there was in the said prison with him one George Bucker, named otherwise Adam Damlyp, who having continued in the said prison 3. or 4. years, at last by the commandment of Winchester, was had to Calais by John Massy, the keeper of the Marshalsey, and there hanged, drawn, & quartered for treason pretensed, which was a little before the condemnation of the Windsore men aforesaid, as is by the letters of the said John Marbecke to me signified.

Touching which story of Adam Damlyp, for so much it includeth matter of much trouble and persecutiō that happened in Calais, to digest therefore and comprise the whole narration therefore in order, first I will enter (the Lord willing) the story of Damlip, and so proceed in order to such as by the said occasion were afflicted and persecuted in the town of Calais.

Persecution in the town of Calais.

Persecutors.	Persecuted.	The Causes.
John Dove, Prior of the gray Friars in Calais. Syr Gregory Buttol, Priest. Stephen Gardener, Bysh. of Winchester. D. Sampson Bishop of Chichester. D. Clarke Bishop of Bathe. D. Repse B. Norwich. Haruey, commissarie in Calais. Lady Honor, wife to the I. Lisle deputy of Calais. Syr Thomas Palmer, Knight. John Roochwoode Esquire. Rich. Long, soldier of Calais. Francis Hastings soldier. Hugh Coūsel servant· Syr Rafe Ellerker Knight. Syr John Gage.	George Bucker, or else called Adam Damlyp. A poor laboring mā. W. Stevens. Thom. Lancaster. John Butler commissary. W. Smith Priest. Raffe Haire. Jacob a Surgeon. A Fleming. Clement Philpot servant. Jeffrey Loueday. Dodde. Sir Edmond Priest. W. Touched, Postmaister. Pet. Bequet. Anthony Pickeryng gentleman. Henry Tourney gentleman. George Darby, Priest. John Shepherd. W. Pellam. W. Keuerdall. John Whitwood. John. Boote, Ro. Cloddet. Copen de Hane, alias James Cock. Math. Hounde. W. Crosbowmaker.	IN the year of our Lord 1539. the Lord Cromwell being yet alive, there came to Calais one Georg Bucker, alias, Adam Damlyppe, who had been in time past a great Papist and Chaplain to Fisher bishop of Rochester, and after the death of the bishop his master had travailed through France Dutchland, and Italy, and as he went, conferred with learned men concerning matters of controversy in Religion: and so proceedinge in his journey to Rome, whereas he thought to have found all godliness and sincere Religion, in the end, he found there (as he confessed) such blasphemy of God, contempt of Christ's true religion, looseness of life, and abundance of all abominations and filthiness, that it abhorred his heart and conscience any longer there to remain: although he was greatly requested by Cardinal Pole, there to continue, and to read 3. Lectures in the week in his house, for y ^t which he offered him great entertainment. Whyche he refused, & so returninge homeward, having a piece of money given him of the Cardinal at his departure, to the value of a French crown toward his charges, came to Calyce, as is aforesaid. Who as he was there waiting without the gate for passage into England, and being there perceived by certain Calyce men, namely, William Stevens, and Thomas Lancaster through conference of talk to be a learned man, and also well affected: and moreover howe that he being of late a zealous Papist, was now returned to a more perfect knowledge of true Religion, was by them heartily entreated to stay at Calais a certain space, and to read there a day or two to the intent he might do some good there after his payneful travel, unto the people. To this request Adam gladly consented, so as he might be licenced by such as were in authority, so to do.

Whereupon the said Stevens at the opening of the gates, brought him unto the Lord Lisle the kings Deputy of the town and marches of Calais, unto whom he declared thoroughly what conference and talk had been between Adam Damlip and him. Which known, the▪ said Lord Deputy instauntly desired the said Damlip to stay there and to preach three or four days or more at his pleasure, saying that he should have both his license & the Cōmissaries also (which then was sir John Butler) so to do. Where after he had preached three or fourt times, he was so well lyked both for his learning, his utterance and the truth of his doctrine, that not only the soldiers & commoners, but also the Lord Deputy and a great part of the Counsel, gave him marvelous great praise and thanks for it, and the said Lord Deputy offered unto him a chamber in his own house, and to dyne and sup every meal at his own mess, to have a man or two of his to wait upon him & to have whatsoever it were that he lacked, if it were to be had for money, yea & what he would in his purse to buy books or otherwise, so as he would tarry there among them, & preach only so long as it should seem good to himself. Who refusing his Lordships great offer, most heartily thanked him for the same, and besought him to be only so good unto him, as to appoint him some quiet & honest place in the town where he might not be disturbed nor molested, but have opportunity to give himself to his book, and would daily once in the forenoon, and again by one a clock at after noon, by the grace of God, preach among them according unto the talent that God had lent him. At which answer the Lord Deputy greatly rejoiced and thereupon sent for the foresaid W. Stevens, whom he earnestly required to receive and lodge the said Damlip in his house, promising whatsoever he should command, to see it paid with the most: and moreover would send every meal frō his own mess a dish of the best unto them, and in deed so did: albeit the said Damlip refused that offer, showing his Lordship that thin diet was most convenient for Studentes. Yet could not that restrain him but that every meal he sent it.

This godly man by the space of xx. days or more, once every day at vii. of the clock preached very godly, learnedly & plainly, the truth of the blessed sacrament of Christ's body and blood, mightily enueying against all Papistrye and cōfuting the same, but especially those two most pernicious errors or heresies, trifling Transubstantiation, and the pestilent propitiatorye Sacrifice of the Romish Mass, by true conference of the Scriptures, and applying of the ancient Doctors, earnestly therewith oftentimes exhorting the people to return from their Popery, declaring how Popish he himself had been, and how by the detestable wickedness that he did see universally in Rome, he was returned so far homeward, and now became an enemy through God's grace, to all papistry: showing therewith, that if gain or ambition could have moved him to the contrary, he might have been enterteyned of Cardinal Poole (as you have heard before) but for very conscience sake joined with true knowledge, grounded on God's most holy word, he now utterly abhorred all Papistry, and willed them most earnestly to do the same.

And thus he continued a while reading in the Chapter house of the White Friers, but the place being not big enough, he was desired to read in the Pulpit, and so proceeding in his Lectures (wherein he declared howe the world was deceived by the Romaine Bishops, which had set forth the damnable doctrine of Transubstantiation, and the real presence in the Sacrament, as is aforesaid) he came at length to speak against the Pageaunt or Picture set forth of the Resurrection which was in Saint Nicholas Church, declaring the same to be but mere Idolatry, and illusion of the Frenchmen before Calais was English.

Upon which Sermon or Lecture, there came a Commission from the King to the Lord Deputy, M. Grendfield, sir John Butler Commissary, the Kings Mason, and Smith, with others, that they should search whether there were (as was put in writing, and under Bull and Pardon) three hosts lyeng upon a Marble stone, besprinkled with blood, and if they found it not so, that immediately it should be plucked down, and so it was. For in searching thereof, as they brake up a stone in a corner of the Tumbe, they instead of the three hosts, found souldered in the Cross of Marble lyeng under the Sepulcher, three plain white counters which they had painted like unto hosts, and a bone that is in the typ of a sheep's tail. All which trumpery Damlip shown unto the people the next day following, which was Sunday, out of the Pulpit, and after that they were sent by the Lord Deputy to the King.

Notwithstanding the Devil stirred up a Dove (he might well be called a Cormorant) the Prior of the white Friers. Who with Syr Gregory Buttoll, Chapleyne to the Lord Lisle, began to bark against him. Yet after the said Adam had in three or four Sermons confuted the said Friers erroneous doctrine of transubstantiation, and of the propitiatory Sacrifice of the Mass: the said Frier outwardly seemed to give place, ceasing openly to inuey, and secretly practiced to peach him by letters sent unto the Clergy here in England: so y ^t within viii. or x. days after, the said Damlip was sent for to appear before the Bishop of Canterbury, with whom was assistant Stephen Gardener, Bishop of Winchester, D. Sampson, Bishop of Chichester, and diverse other, before whom he most constantly affirmed and defended the doctrine which he had taught, in such sort answering, confuting, & soluting the objections, as his adversaries, yea even among other, the learned godly and blessed Martyr Cranmer then yet but a Lutheran, marvelled at it, & said plainly, that y ^e Scripture knew no such term of transubstantiation. Then begā the other Bishops to threaten him, shortly to confute him with their accustomed argument, I mean fire and fagot, if he should still stand to y ^e defense of that he had spoken. Wherunto he constantly answered, that he would the next day deliver unto them fully so much in writing as he had said: whereto also he would stand, and so was dismissed.

The next day at the hour appointed to appear, when they looked surely to have apprehended him, in the mean season he had secrete intimation from the Bishop of Canterbury, that if he did anymore personally appear, he should be committed unto Warde, not like to escape cruel death. Wherupon he (plaieng in deed then somewhat old Adams part, for such is man, left in his own hands) had him commended unto them, and sent them four sheets of paper learnedly written in the Latin tongue, containing his faith with his arguments conferences, of the Scriptures, and allegations of the Doctors, by a messenger or friend of his. Which done, he having a little money given him in his purse by his friends, stepped aside, and went to the West country, and there kept all the time, while great trouble kindled against God's people in Calais, upon the same, as ye shall hear, the Lord permitting.

After his departure, the Kings Majesty was advertised, that there was great dissention & diversity of pernicious opinions in his said town of Calais, greatly tending to the danger of the same. Wherupō, during yet the days of the Lord Cromwell, were sent over Doct. Champion Doctor of Divinity, & M. Garret, who after was burned, two godly and learned men, to preach and instruct the people, and to confute all pernicious errors, who in effect preached and maintained the same true doctrine which Adam Damlip had before set forth, and by reason thereof, they left the Town at their departure very quiet, and greatly purged of the slander that had run on it.

After the departure of the said Champion and Garret, one Sir William Smith Curate of our Lady Parishe in Calais, a man very zealous, though but meanly learned, did begin to preach, and earnestly to inuey against Papistry and willful ignorance: exhorting men obediently to receive the word, and no longer to contemn the same, least God's heavy plagues and wrath should fall upon them, which always followeth the contempt of his holy word. Which sir William Smith, for that sometime he would be very fervent & zealous, sharply inueying against the despisers of the word, was moved by some of y ^e Counsel there, who would seem to favor God's word, that he should not be so earnest against them that yet could not away with the same, willing him to bear with such, for by bearing with them they might hap to be won.

Well, well, said the same Smith (openly in the Pulpit one day as he preached) some men say I am too earnest, and will me to bear with such as continue open enemies against Christ's holy Gospel, and refuse, nay forbid that any should read the Bible or holy scripture within their house: but let all such take heed, for before God, I fear that God for their contemning of his word, will not long bear with them, but make them in such case as some of them shall not have a head left them upon their shoulders to bear up their cap withal: which also after came to pas.

This Smyth continued in the diligente bestowing of his talent there, till shortly after the devil got such hold in the harts of a number of God's enemies, that he with diverse other godly men were called over into England, and charged with erroneous opinions worthy of great punishment, as hereafter more at large shall appear.

First the Lord Lislie the Kings deputy there, whom we shown to be the maintainer of Damlip (albeit he were himself of a most gentle nature, & of a right noble blood, the base son of that noble Prince King Edward the fourth) being fiercely set on, and incessauntly enticed by the wicked Lady Honor his wife, who was an utter enemy to God's honor, and in Idolatry, hypocrisy, & pride incomparably evil, she being daily and hourly thereunto incited and provoked by Sir Thomas Palmer Knight, & John Rookewood Esquire, two enemies to God's word, beginning now to flourish at Calais: these I say, with certain other of the Counsel of the said Town of Calais, to the number of vii. mo besides themselves, seeking occasion or rather a quarrel, where no just cause was givē, begā to write very heinous letters and grievous complaints unto the Lord's of the privy Counsel, against divers of the Town of Calais, affirming that they were horribly infected with heresies and pernicious opinions: As first the foresaid Adam Damlip, who though he were for a time escaped their hands, yet stacke still in their remembrance from time to time, until at last the innocent man was cruelly put to death as a traitor, as hereafter shall appear.

Also besides this Damlip, they complained of Thomas Broke, Rafe Hare, likewise of Sir John Butler then Commissary, and Sir W. Smith, James Cock, aliàs Coppen de Hane, James Barber & other, and the names of them all sent over. Of the wich persons, first the said Thomas Broke, and Rafe Hare, Coppen de Hane, and James Barber were apprehended and sent over, and committed to prison in Westminster gate, and then commanded to appear before the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bish. of Winchester, the Bishop of Chichester, and ten other appointed by the Kings majesties commission, for the examination of them. And their accusers also were sent over with letters from the Counsel there, unto his privy Council here, in the furtherance of their malicious suits against those honest men, with certain special letters directed unto the Lord Fitzwilliams then Earl of Southhampton, & great Admiral of England, to the L. Sandes, Lord Chamberlayne of the Household, likewise also to sir William Kingstone Knight, Comptroller of y ^e household, and to D. Sampson, then B. of Chichester, and other tending all to one effect, that is to say, to the utter destruction of these godly men, if God after his wonted manner, had not mightily preserved them, and, as it were overshadowed them with the wings of his mercy.

That the same may the better appear, you shall understand that first Rafe Hare, a man rude and so unlearned, that scarce he could read, yet through God's grace, was very zealous, and therewith lead so godly & temperate a life, as not one of his enemies could accuse or blame the same his sober life and conversation. Thys Rafe Hare was charged to be one, that had spoken against auriculare confession, against holy bread and holy water, yea and beside that, he was one which would not lightly swear an oath, nor use almost any manner of pastime, nor good fellowship, as they term it, but was always in a corner by himself, looking on his book. The poor simple man being charged by the Commissioners, y ^t he was a naughty man & erroneous, and that he could not be otherwise, coming out of a town so infected with pernicious errors & sects as that was, was willed by them to take good heed to himself, least through obstinacy he turned his erroneous opinions to plain heresy: for an error defended, is heresy.

My good Lord's said the poor man, I take God to record, I would not willingly maintain an error or heresy, wherefore I beseech you, let my accusers come face to face before me. For if they charge me with that which I have spoken, I will never deny it. Moreover, if it be truth, I will stand unto it, and otherwise if it be an error, I will with all my heart utterly forsake it, I mean if it be against God's holy word. For the Lord is my witness, I seek, and daily pray to God, that I may know the truth, and flee from all errors, and I trust the Lord will save me, and preserve me from them.

Aha, quoth the Bishop of Winchester, do you not hear what he saith my Lord? I perceive now thou art a naughty fellow. Alas my Lord, said Rafe Hare, what evil said I? Mary Syr, you said, the Lord, the Lord, and that is, Symbolum haereticorum, said Winchester. What is that my Lord, for God's sake tell me, said Hare? Thou art naught, thou art naught, said he. At which words y ^e simple man began to tremble, and seemed much dismayde and driven into a great agony and fear. Which thing Winchester well perceiving, said unto him: Rafe Hare, Rafe Hare, by my truth I pity thee much. For in good faith, I think thee to be a good simple man, & of thyself wouldest mean well enough, but that thou hast had shrewd and subtle schoolemaisters, that have seduced thee good poor simple soul, and therefore I pity thee: and it were in deed pity that thou shouldest be burnt, for thou art a good fellow, a tall man, and hast served y ^e King right well in his wars. I have heard thee well commended, and thou art yet able to do the King as good service as ever thou wast, and we all will be a mean to his grace to be good and gracious Lord unto thee, if thou wilt take pity of thyself, and leave thy errors. For I dare say for us all, that be Commissioners, that we would be loath that thou should be cast away. For alas poor simple man, we perceive thou hast been seduced (I say) by others.

How sayest thou therefore? thou knowest my Lord of Canterburies grace here is a good gentle Lord, and would be loath thou shouldst be cast away. Tell me, canst thou be content to submit thyself unto him, and to stand unto such order, as he and we shall take in this matter? How sayest thou man? speak. The poor man therewith falling upon his knees, and sheeding tears, answered, speaking to the Archbishop of Canterbury in this wise: My good lord, for Christ's sake be good unto me, and I refer myself unto your graces order, do with me what you please.

The Bishop of Canterbury, considering what danger he was ready to fall in, & pitieng the same (though the simplicity of y ^e man was so great, that he perceived it not) said, nay Rafe Hare, stand up, & advise thyself, and commit not thyself to me, for I am but one man, and in Commission but as the other are, so that it lieth in me to do nothing. But if thou do commit thyself unto all, then thou committest thyself unto the law, and the law is ordained to do every mā right. Go to Raph Hare, said Winchester, submit thyself to my Lord and us: it is best for thee to do so. Whereupon he fell upon his knees again, and said: My Lord's and masters all, I submit myself wholly unto you. And therwithall a book was holden him, and an oth given him to be obedient unto them, and to all Ecclesiastical laws: and straightway he was enjoined to abjure, and to bear a fagot three several days, & moreover, the poor man lost the living that he had at Calais.

This simple man hearing his penance, piteously lamented, and earnestly at the first denied to stand thereunto, with piteous exclamation, saying: O my Lord of Winchester, my Lord of Winchester, have you made me a logge ready to be laid upon the fire, whensoever any wicked man falsely of malice, by provocation of the devil, shall lay any small trifle to my charge? Or shall I be thus handled, nothing proved to my face against me? Alas, I have always hated errors and heresies. Content thyself Hare: there is now no remedy, thou must either do thy penance, or be burnt, said the Commissioners. Thus have you heard how Ralph Hare did speed.

Then was Thomas Broke called for, against whom it was objected by some of the Counsels letters of Calais, that he was a seditious fellow. Among these accusers besides the rest, was one Richard Long, another Francis Hastings, men of arms, who charged y ^e forenamed Tho. mas Broke, and one Geffray Loueday Esquire, for staying and maintaining the foresaid Adam Damlyp at Calais: as who had promised unto him a stipend to preach such heresies and pernicious opinions, as afterward he taught there: and that these two daily gathered many several sums of money, for the entertainment of the said Adam. Howbeit, the foresaid Hastings failed in the proof thereof. For Loueday proved that he was viii. days be • ore Damlips coming to Calais, and during xiv. days continually after he began to preach, abiding at Paris, there occupied about necessary affairs of Charles Duke of Southfolke. And Broke during the said time, was at London daily attendant in the Parliament house, whereof he had enough to bear witness, against y ^e untrue surmise.

After that, came three at once against the said Broke, well armed as they thought, who had not only consulted together before of the matter, and put it in writing at Calais, beside their conference and talk by the way keeping company from thence hither, but also had obtained from the Lord Deputy and others of the Counsel, special letters as is aforesaid: and among other, one letter unto the Bishop of Chichester, for the earnest and speedy furtherance of the advancement of their accusations against Brooke.

The first of these three was a young Gentleman lately brought up under the said Brooke in the office of custom, whose name was Edmund Payton.

The other was one Robert Poole, a man (as it was commonly reported) both base borne, and also such a one, as in his youth for murthering a man with a clubbe in Bow lane in London, was fain by obtaining the Kings pardon, to save his neck.

The third was one Tho. Boys, who showing more honesty then the rest, affirmed not that he himself heard y ^e said Broke speak anything of that which was objected against him, but justified that either of the other two had steadfastly affirmed to him, that Broke had spoken unto them those things here under objected against him.

The young man first objected against the said Broke, that he should say that the thing which the Priest useth to hold up over his head at Mass, is not the natural body of Jesus Christ: for if that were so, who so would, might have their belly full of God's, their guts full of God's, and he that had lately received the Sacrament before he went to the Sea, might happily vomit God up again on shypboord.

And thus much he brought over in writing with him from Calais, and added thereto, as it should seem, to exasperate the Commissioners and the rest of the Clergy against him, certain other heinous words spoken against Bishops and Priests. Which words the said Broke there denied, confessing nevertheless that certain private talk he had with him touching the Sacrament, wherein he shown to the young man the right use of the same, concluding, that albeit with our mouths we received very material bread and wine, yet by faith, all Christian mē do receive, eat, and drink, to their great comfort and benefit, the very natural body and blood of Christ, which was both borne of the virgins Mary, and suffered death on the Cross for the remission of their sins: which most holy Sacrament, who so came unworthily unto, the same was so far from the eating of Christ's body and blood, that all such (without hearty repentance) do eat their own damnation. And to conclude with him in that private talk he told him, that if the gross & unlearned error of transubstantiation, were in deed matter of truth and sincere doctrine, then not only this should follow of it, that every mā who would, might have everlasting life (for they might when they would receive the outward Sacrament, seen with our eyes, which the Priests call Christ's natural body, and who so eateth Christ's body, and drinketh his blood, hath everlasting life, saith Christ) but also there should great absurdities follow thereby, as whē a mā happeneth to go to the sea, having lately received the sacrament, he should put it over boorde, or do it on the hatches, & therefore exhorted the said Payton to leave that gross error.

The second accuser was Poole, who objected against him, that about two years past, he himself dining with the said Brooke, with xv. or xvj. other honest men, heard him thus say at the table, that the thing which the Priests use to hold up over their heads, was not the very body and blood of Christ, but a sacrament to put us in remembrance thereof. Unto whose objections the said Broke answered, that a man in mirth might well enough with charity beshrewe such a guest, as when he had dined with a man, could so long after remember to say him such a grace: and required of Poole, of whence the rest of the guests were. He answered they were of the town all. Then inferred he, that he was sure Poole could as well remember some of their names which then were present, as freshly to keep in mind (for so by oth upon a book he had af • irmed) every word of the whole matter which he objected: but for that the matter was utterly untrue. Whereupon▪ the said Brooke desired their honors to consider the slendernes of his tale.

To be short, he with the rest of his fellows, to wit, Rafe Hare, Coppen, and James the Barber, were for that time dismissed.

During the time while these four were thus in examination at London, the other two, to wit, Syr William Smith preacher, and John Butler, by commandment were apprehended in Calyce, and bound by surety not to pass the gates of the town of Calyce. In the which town, the said John Butler Commissary was accused by Rich. Thorpe and John. Ford, soldiers of Calais, saiing that he should say, that if the Sacrament of the alter be flesh, blood, and bone, then there is good aqua vitae at John Spisers. Upon which accusation the said Thorpe and Forde brought for records before the Counsayle of Calyce, Marraunt Haynes, John Luckes, Harry Husson, and Harry Troste, all of the parish of Oye beside Calyce. Whereupon shortly after, the said John Butler and Sir William Smith were sent for, and by one Swallow a purseuant, which set up the other aforesaid, brought into England, unto the house of the said Swallow, dwelling by S. James, where the Kings majesty lay at that time, and the next day being Thurseday, after dinner, Butler & Smith were brought to the star chamber before the privy Counsayle, where both sedition and heresy was objected against them: and after much talk, was said unto them by the Lord Cromwell, that they should make their purgation by the law: And from thence by the foresaid Swallow they were sent to the Fleet.

The next day being Friday, after dinner, Butler and Smyth were sent for to come to Bathe place, where they were brought into the Chapel, there sitting D. Clarke, Bishop of Bathe, Doctor Sampson, then Bishop of Chichester, Doctor Repse, the Bishop of Norwich, who was a Monk, being fast a sleep. Then was objected unto Butler with great reverence, the opprobrious words spoken against the blessed Sacrament, rehearsing (as is aforesaid) the articles. Butler required to have them in writing, and so would make answer in writing. The which they would not grant him: and upon that answer he stood. Then choler gathered in the Bishop of Chichester. The story were too long to write: yet part ye shall understand.

Chichester found great fault that Butler made not low cursie, being stubborn and arrogant, as he said, and in fine, found fault with his shirt. Then turning him about, he called to his brother Bannester being present (that time dwelling in Pater noster Row) to make answer for the shirt. He said, I can make answer for the shirt. No good answer said Chichester. Forsooth, said he, the shirt is mine▪ I lent it him, because he brought none with him, for he was not permitted to have any servant. A good answer said the Bishop of Bathe. Then Butler made low courtesy, and said, the shirt is answered. Then Chichester said, thou mockest us. But he said no. And thus much concerning that time.

The story of William Smyth.

THen after Butler, was Sir William Smith, Curate of our Lady Parish in Calais, called before them, and charged in a manner with the same heinous errors and pernicious opinions, that were objected against the said Rafe Hare, and thereto was added, that he had spoken and preached against our blessed Lady, against prayeng to Saints, against doing of good works, and many other like things: and therewithal, one Richard Long, a man of arms of Calais, proved against the said Sir Smyth, and y ^e foresaid Brook by an oath taken upon a book, that the said Smith and Brooke did eat flesh together in Lent in the said Brookes house. For a Millers boy, said he, came into Brookes kitchen, and saw half a Lamb lie a roasting at the fire. Whereas the truth is, that the said Sir William Smith during all the Lent, came never once within the said Brookes house. And it is as true also, that the said Richard Long, upon a displeasure taken with his wife, went shortly after out of his own house, to the Iu • rie end of the haven at Calais, where desperately he drowned himself, not one boy, but many men, women, girls, and boys seeing him miserably taken up again stark dead: all which lamented his pitiful ruin. A terrible example unto all such as are ready to forswear themselves on a book upon malice, or whatsoever other cause it be: a thing in these days over rise everywhere, and almost nowhere regarded as it ought to be.

The trouble of John Butler.

THere was also called before them sir John Butler, then Commissary of Calais, whom they would have burdened with the maintenance, or (at y ^e leastwise) sufferance, of the foresaid Adam Damlip, which preached so long time there, and was not by him punished. Who for his defense answered, that the Lord Deputy and the whole Counsel there so highly entertained, and so friendly used the said Damlyp, and with their own presence & high commendations outwardly so allowed and comēded his doctrine, that it lay not in him to do otherwise thē he did: & therefore humbly besought their Lordships and other the Commissioners to be good unto him. At whose hands, after long attendance given, he was discharged, & so returned home again, being also dismissed of his Commissaryship.

The recantation of certain Calyce men.

NOw to declare what order was taken with these foresaid Calycemen, it was appointed that sir W. Smith, Rafe Hare, James Cock, and James Barber, should be sent to Calais, there to abjure and to do penance. Where sir W. Smith was enjoined to make the Sermon, Rafe Hare, James Cock, and James Barber standing with fagots vpō their shoulders. The Sermon was made in y ^e market of Calais. Which being done, they went with their fagottes about the market place, the Drumme and Fife going before them, and then returning to the Commissioners with testimonial of the same, they departed. Albeit in this recātation, the said W. Smith Curate of our Ladies Church handled his Sermon after that sort, as in effect he denied nothing at all that he had before preached or taught, but yet it satisfied somewhat his adversaries malicious harts, in that it bare the name of a recantation, according to the Commissioners order, appointing him thus openly to preach, and so to depart the town and marches.

As touching James Barber aforesaid, for so much as his dwelling was not at Calais, but four miles off from the town, it was therefore enjoined him to bear his Fagot, not at Calais, but on the Saturday next following to stand in the market there, where he dwelled, with his Fagot upon his shoulder, and the said Syr William Smyth likewise there preached as before.

And thus much concerning the first Commission sent over to Calais to inquire upon the heretics there.

Another Commission sent over to Calais.

AFter all these things done and past, the grudgyng minds of the adversaries yet were not satisfied, but still suggested new complaints to the Kings ears against the town of Calais, making the king believe, that through new opinions the town was so divided, that it was in great danger of the adversary to be overcome.

Whereupon shortly after, the week before Easter next following, other new Commissioners were sent over by the King to Calais, to wit, the Earl of Sussex, Lord great Chamberlain, the Lord S. John, Sir John Gage Knight, Sir John Barker Knight, M. Layton, Clerke of the closet, and Doctor Currin, with special instructions besides signed by the Kings Majesty's own hand: for his highness had been incensed once again from the Counsel at Calais, that the town was in peril through dissension, and diversity of opinions. Upon their arriuall, M. Doct. Currin preached a notable Sermon, exhorting all men to charity, having nothing in his mouth but charity, charity. But as it seemed afterward, such a burning charity was in him and the rest of the Commissioners, that had not God pitied the innocence of men's causes, there had a hundred been burnt or hanged shortly after.

But it happened far otherwise. For of the number of those accusers, four were by those Commissioners sent over into England, to wit, Clement Philpot, servant to the Lord Lisle, sir Edmund, Curate of our Ladies Church, W. Touchet a Postmaister, Peter Bequet, of the which four, Touchet and Bequet were sent to their places again: the other two were drawn, hanged, and quartered at London. But contrary, of all them that were accused, there was not one that lost one hear of his head.

After the Sermon was done, on the morrow to wit, on Sherethurseday, all the Commissioners solemnly received the Sacrament. And at after noon, the Counsel were with the Commissioners, and after their consultation, tipped staves warned, above the number of four score, so perverse persons as the like were not in y ^e town or marches, to appear on the morrow at viii. of the clock before the Counsel at the Staple Inn, who at their appearance were commanded upon their allegiance, to present all such heretics, schismatics, and seditious persons, as they did know: and in no wise to doubt or dread so to do, for they should have great advantage thereby, yea they should have either their linings, or their goods, and besides that, they should have great thanks at the Kings Majesty's hand, and his honorable Counsel, and what friendship they of the Kings Counsel there could show them. All that good Friday, even till x. of the clock at night, those wicked and malicious persons occupied their time in answering to diverse and sundry questions.

These things were not so secretly done, but they were bewrayed and came to honest men's knowledge. Whereupon such fear and distrust assaulted all men, that neighbor mistrusted neighbor, the master the servant, the servant the master, the husband the wife, the wife the husband, and almost everyone the other, that lamentable it was to see how mourningly men and women went in the streets, hanging down their heads, showing evident tokens of the anguish of their harts.

The second trouble of Thomas Brooke.

VPon Easter Monday, one Hugh Council an honest man, servant to the said Brooke, was convented before them, and by the space of xiv. days, not suffered to return to his masters house, but kept in custody, and many times examined upon Articles and Interrogatories, in hope to have found worthy matter, either of heresy or treason against the said Brooke: and the same day that Brooke was committed to Warde, the said Hugh Council was discharged.

The Wednesday in the Easter week, sundry Questes were charged by their oaths to make inquisition for all manner of heresies, erroneous opinions and seditions, as a Quest of Aldermen, another of men at arms, and another of Constables and Uintners, another of common Soldiers, and another of Commoners.

And shortly after their presentments, on good Friday, there was convented before the Commissioners, and straighte were sent to close prison, Anthony Pickering Gentleman, Harry Tourney Gentleman, Syr George Darby Priest, John Shepherd, William Pellam, William Keuerdale, John Whitwoode, John Boote, Roberte Clodder, Copen de Hane, & Matthew de Hound. Upon whom ran sundry brutes: Some said they should be hanged, some said burnt, some said hanged drawn and quartered, some said nailed to the Pillery: so that pitiful it was to see the lamentation that their wives, their children, servants, and friends made secretly where they durst, for that they found everywhere words of discomfort, and nowhere of comfort, but still Inquisition was made.

The second trouble of William Stevens.

THe foresaid William Stevens after his return from London above mentioned, besides many other Articles laid to him for religion, to y ^e number of 40. or welnie, was by y ^e Lord Deputy charged y ^t he had stayed the foresaid Adam Damlip, hired him to preach, and gave him meat, drink and lodging, coming from the arrant traitor Cardinal Poole, and suborned by him: and that he had received money of him, to the intent he should preach in Calais false & erroneous doctrine, whereby y ^e town being divided & at contention within it self, might easily be overcome & won by the Frenchmen. Whereunto the said Stevens answered, that whatsoever he had done unto the said Adam Damlip, he had done it at the earnest request & commandment of the said Lord Deputy. Whereupon, if it had been treason in deed, he must have been more faulty.

Then the said William Stevens was again the second time by the said Commissioners sent over into England, & clapt in the tower, & afterward, to wit, immediately after the said Commissioners repair unto the Kings highness, y ^e said Lord Deputy was sent for over, & likewise put into the Tower, where he continued a long time. And whē the Kings Majesty minded to have been gracious unto him, & to have let him come forth, God took him out of this world, whose body resteth in y ^e Tower, & his soul w ^t God, I trust, in heaven, for he died very repentant. But y ^e wicked Lady his wife immediately upon his apprehensiō, fell distraught of mind, & so continued many years after. God for his mercy, if she yet live, give her his grace to repent.

The second Monday after Easter, the foresaid Brooke was convented before the Commissioners, and committed to close prison in the Mayors Gayle.

Then the Counsel of Calais, doubting lest there should not be any sedition or heresy proved against him, did call one George Bradway before them, who occupied y ^e Controllers office in the custom house. This mā was kept in close prison, so as neither his wife then great with child, nor any other his friends might repair unto him. Where, after y ^t he had often times been borne in hand, that there were diverse concealements come to light that were made by Brooke in the office of Custom, and y ^t the said Bradway should be grievously punished if he would acknowledge none of thē, nor burden y ^e said Brooke with no kind of concealment: the poor simple man, hoping thereby to get release of his imprisonment, accused the said Brooke, that he had for a long time concealed four grotes every day for his Clerks wages, & to that accusation they caused the simple man to set his own hand before witnesses.

Wherevpon, after a day or two, the said Bradway grieved in his conscience for the same his most untrue accusation, did with a knife enterprise to cut his own throat: but God of his mercy so directed his wicked purpose, that the back of his knife was toward his wesande. Whereby though the wound were broad, yet he escaped with life. And as he gave a groan with the sudden pain that he felt, the Gayler came up, and bereft him of the knife. But thorough the giltines of the false accusation, and shame of the world, the mā lost his wits, who then staring and dismayed was dismissed out of prison, and a long time after went in piteous case so dismayed about the street, to the great impoverishing of him, his poor wife and family.

This kind of handling of the said Brooke, made all his friends, but specially his wife, to be greatly afeard of the malice of his enemies: the rather also, for that all his goods and lands were ceised. And his wife thrust into the meanest place of all his house, with her children and family, the keys of all y ^e doors and chestes beside taken from her. Who for y ^t she was rigorously entreated at sir Edward Ringleis hand, Controller of the Town (an office of no small charge, though he knew not a B from a battledore, nor ever a letter of the book) saying unto her, that if she lyked not the room, he would thrust her quite out of the doors: well Sir, said she, well, the Kings slaughter house had wrong when you were made a Gentleman, and with all speed she wrote a letter to the Lord Cromwell, therein discoursing how hardly and sore those poor mē were handled, that were committed to ward and close prison, and that all men feared (what through the malice of their Papistical enemies, and the great rigor and ignorant zeal of those that were in authority) they should shortly for their faith and consciences, being true men, and such as reverently feared God, be put to death, but chiefly her husband, who was yet more extremely handled then any other: So that, unless his honor voutchsaued to be a mean to the Kings majesty, that they with their causes might be sent over into England, they were but dead men.

Whereupon the said Lord Cromwell wrote speedily his letters unto the Commissioners, declaring the kings majesties pleasure and commandment was, that the arrant traitor and heretic Brooke, with a dosen or twentye complices, should with their accusers be immediately sent over, that here in England they might receive their judgment, and there at Calais to the great terror of like offenders hereafter suffer according to their demerits.

Now by the time that the said Commissioners had received these letters, they had made out precepts for 8. or 9. score honest men more to be cast in prison. But these letters so appalled them, that they stayde, and afterward sent no moe to ward. But making then as diligent inquisition as was possible, to have found some worthy matter against those before named, whereby there might have been some color, both of the Counsels grievous complaints, and of the Commissioners rigorous dealing, whē no such thing could fall out, because they would be assured y ^t they should not go unpunished, they first banished thē the town and Marches of Calais with a Trumpet blown, under pain of death, for a hundred year and a day if that one day had been left out, all had been marde, and then sent them back to prison, staying them there upon hope that the L. Cromwell should come into captivity sooner then he did. But at last, to wit, on May day, they sent the xiii. prisoners through the market, the said Brooke going before with irons on his legs, as the chief captain, the rest following him, two and two without irons, unto shipbord, & then were they all coupled in irons two & two together. Where, because they were loath to go under the hatches. Sir John Gage with a staff smote some of them cruelly: Whereupon Anthony Pickering said unto him, Syr, I beseech you yet be as good unto us as you would be to your horses or dogs: let us have a little air that we be not smothered. Yet that request could not be obtained, but the hatches were put down close, and they guarded and kept with a great company of men, and so sailing forward, by God's merciful providence, were within 24. hours, at ancker before the Tower of London.

And when the Lord Cromwell understood they were come, he commanded their irons to be smit off at the Tower wharfe, and the prisoners to be brought unto him.

When he saw them he smiled upon them, steadfastly beholding each of them, and then said: Sirs, you must take pain for a time. Go your way to the Fleet, and submit yourselves prisoners there, and shortly you shall know more, so in deed they did, for that evening he sent them word they should be of good cheer, for if God sent him life, they should shortly go home with as much honesty, as they came with shame.

Whilest these xiii. persecuted men lay in the Fleet, and W. Stevens in the Tower, to wit, the xix. day of July, an. 1541. the foresaid Lord Cromwell for treason laid against him, was at Tower hill beheaded, as is before specified in his story, who made there a very Christian end. Then had the poor Calais men great cause to fear, if they had not altogether depēded on the merciful providence of their heavenly father, whose blessed will they knew directed all things. But he in the midst of their deep troubles and miseries so comforted them, that even as the dangers and troubles increased, so likewise did their consolation & joy in him, so far forth, as Matthew de Hound, one of those xiii. who was in trouble only for that he heard Copen de Hall read a Chapter of the New Testament, and was as deep in punishment, and in banishmente from his wife, children, and country, as the rest, got in short time such instruction, that having therewith a soul and conscience fraughted full of godly zeal unto God's glory, and the true doctrine of Christ, within a few months after his deliverance out of the Fleet: for inueying constantly against the wicked honoring of images, & praying unto Saints departed, was cruelly in a most constant faith and patience, burned in Flaunders.

Now therefore when all hope in man was past, the right honorable L. Audeley, lord Chancellor of England, without further examination, discharged first the said 13. that were in the Fleet, and at length two years after, he delivered W. Stevens also by the Kings own motion, out of the Tower, saying at y ^e discharging of those 13. sirs, pray for the Kings Majesty, his pleasure is y ^t you shall all be presently discharged. And though your livings be taken from you, yet despair not: God will not see you lack. But for God's sake sirs beware how you deal with popish Priests: for, so God save my soul, some of them be knaves all. Sirs, said he, I am commanded by the counsel to tell you, that you are discharged by virtue of the kings general pardon, but that pardon excepteth and forbiddeth all sacramentaries, and the most part, or all of you are called sacramentaries. Therefore I cannot see how that pardon doth you any pleasure. But pray for the Kings highness, for his graces pleasure is, that I should dismiss you, and so I do, and pity you all: Farewell sirs.

So giving God most hearty thanks for his mighty and merciful delivering of them, they departed dismissed, as you have heard, being in deed in very poor estate: but not in so miserable state as all those eight Counsailours of Calais were within one yere and a half after. For whereas the other three Counsailers which seemed more favorable to them: to wit, the Lord Gray, sir George Carow, and sir Rich. Grinefield, which purged the town of those sclaunders that untruly were raised upon it, and therefore for a time were in their princes high displeasure: within y ^e year were all three in greater favor then ever they were before, and that not without the reward of xx. pound by year to him & to his heirs, who had least: the other eight Counsailours, unjustly charging them and the town of sedition and heresy: to say, the Lord Lisle, the Lord Sandes, Sir John Wallop, sir Edward Rinsley, Rob. Fowler Esquire vice treasurer, sir Tho. Palmer knight, called long Palmer, W. Simpson Esquire vndermarshall, & John. Rockwod, were either greatly out of their Princes favor, and in the Tower or else where prisoners, either else by very desperate deaths in outward appearance, taken out of this world: For tediousness I will rehearse but only the horrible ende of the said Rockwood, the chief stirrer up of all the afflictions afore spoken of: who even to the last breath staring & raging, cried, he was utterly damned: and being willed to ask God mercy, who was ready to forgive all that asked mercy of him, he braied & cried out, All too late, for I have sought maliciously the deaths of a number of the honestest men in the town, and though I so thought them in my heart, yet I did that lay in me to bring thē to an evil death: all too late therefore, all too late. Which same words he answered to one that at the departure of the xiii. in irons towards England, said: Sir, I never saw men of such honesty, so sharply corrected, & taking it so patiently and joyfully. Rockwod thē fetching a friske or two, scoffingly answered: All too late. The vndermarshal suddenly fell down in the Counsaile chamber, and never spake word after, nor shown any token of remembrance. The plagues of the other also, as I am credibly infourmed, were little better.