History of the Reformation, vol. 5
Chapter 7
The Just Men of Lincolnshire—Their Assemblies and Teaching—Agnes and Morden—Itinerant Libraries—Polemical Conversations—Sarcasm—Royal Decree and Terror—Depositions and Condemnations—Four Martyrs—A Conclave—Charles consoles Wolsey
Wolsey did not stay until he was pope, before persecuting the disciples of the word of God. Desirous of carrying out the stipulations of the convention at Bruges, he had broken out against “the king’s subjects who disturbed the apostolic see.” Henry had to vindicate the title conferred on him by the pope; the cardinal had to gain the popedom; and both could satisfy their desires by the erection of a few scaffolds. HRSCV5 747.2
In the county of Lincoln on the shores of the North Sea, along the fertile banks of the Humber, Trent, and Witham, and on the slopes of the smiling hills, dwelt many peaceful Christians—laborers, artificers, and shepherds—who spent their days in toil, in keeping their flocks, in doing good, and in reading the Bible. The more the gospel-light increased in England, the greater was the increase in the number of these children of peace. These, “just men,” as they were called, were devoid of human knowledge, but they thirsted for the knowledge of God. Thinking they were alone the true disciples of the Lord, they married only among themselves. They appeared occasionally at church; but instead of repeating their prayers like the rest, they sat, said their enemies, “mum like beasts.” On Sundays and holidays, they assembled in each other’s houses, and sometimes passed a whole night in reading a portion of Scripture. If there chanced to be few books among them, one of the brethren, who had learnt by heart the epistle of St. James, the beginning of St. Luke’s gospel, the sermon on the mount, or an epistle of St. Paul’s, would recite a few verses in a loud and calm voice; then all would piously converse about the holy truths of the faith, and exhort one another to put them in practice. But if any person joined their meetings, who did not belong to their body, they would all keep silent. Speaking much among each other, they were speechless before those from without: fear of the priests and of the fagot made them dumb. There was no family rejoicing without the Scriptures. At the marriage of a daughter of the aged Durdant, one of their patriarchs, the wedding party met secretly in a barn, and read the whole of one of St. Paul’s epistles. Marriages are rarely celebrated with such pastimes as this! HRSCV5 747.3
Although they were dumb before enemies or suspected persons, these poor people did not keep silence in the presence of the humble; a glowing proselytism characterized them all. “Come to my house,” said the pious Agnes Ashford to James Morden, “and I will teach you some verses of Scripture.” Agnes was an educated woman; she could read; Morden came, and the poor woman’s chamber was transformed into a school of theology. Agnes began: “Ye are the salt of the earth,” and then recited the following verses. Five times did Morden return to Agnes before he knew that beautiful discourse. “We are spread like salt over the various parts of the kingdom,” said this Christian woman to the neophyte, “in order that we may check the progress of superstition by our doctrine and our life. But,” added she in alarm, “keep this secret in your heart, as a man would keep a thief in prison.” HRSCV5 747.4
As books were rare, these pious Christians had established a kind of itinerant library, and one John Scrivener was continually engaged in carrying the precious volumes from one to another. But at times, as he was proceeding along the banks of the river, or through the forest glades, he observed that he was followed. He would quicken his pace and run into some barn, where the friendly peasants promptly hid him beneath the straw, or, like the spies of Israel, under the stalks of flax. The bloodhounds arrived, sought and found nothing; and more than once those who so generously harbored these evangelists cruelly expiated the crime of charity. HRSCV5 748.1
The disappointed officers had scarcely retired from the neighborhood when these friends of the word of God came out of their hiding-place, and profited by the moment of liberty to assemble the brethren. The persecutions they suffered irritated them against the priests. They worshipped God, read and sang with a low voice; but when the conversation became general, they gave free course to their indignation. “Would you know the use of the pope’s pardons?” said one of them; “they are to blind the eyes and empty the purse.”—“True pilgrimages,” said the tailor Geoffrey of Uxbridge, “consist in visiting the poor and sick—barefoot, if so it please you—for these are the little ones that are God’s true image.”—“Money spent in pilgrimages,” added a third, “serves only to maintain thieves and harlots.” The women were often the most animated in the controversy. “What need is there to go to the feet,” said Agnes Ward, who disbelieved in saints, “when we may go to the head?” “The clergy of the good old times,” said the wife of David Lewis, “used to lead the people as a hen leadeth her chickens; but now if our priests lead their flocks anywhere, it is to the devil assuredly.” HRSCV5 748.2
Erelong there was a general panic throughout this district. The king’s confessor John Longland was bishop of Lincoln. This fanatic priest, Wolsey’s creature, took, advantage of his position to petition Henry for a severe persecution: this was the ordinary use in England, France, and elsewhere, of the confessors of princes. It was unfortunate that among these pious disciples of the word men of a cynical turn were now and then met with, whose biting sarcasms went beyond all bounds. Wolsey and Longland knew how to employ these expressions in arousing the king’s anger. “As one of these fellows,” they said, “was busy beating out his corn in his barn, a man chanced to pass by. `Good morrow, neighbor,’ (said the latter), `you are hard at it!’—`Yes,’ replied the old heretic, thinking of transubstantiation, `I am thrashing the corn out of which the priest make God Almighty.’” Henry hesitated no longer. HRSCV5 748.3
On the 20th October 1521, nine days after the bull on the Defender of the Faith had been signed at Rome, the king, who was at Windsor, summoned his secretary, and dictated an order commanding all his subjects to assist the bishop of Lincoln against the heretics. “You will obey it at the peril of your lives,” added he. The order was transmitted to Longland, and the bishop immediately issued his warrants, and his officers spread terror far and wide. When they beheld them, these peaceful but timid Christians were troubled. Isabella Bartlet, hearing them approach her cottage, screamed out to her husband: “You are a lost man! and I am a dead woman!” This cry was re-echoed from all the cottages of Lincolnshire. The bishop, on his judgment-seat, skillfully played upon these poor unhappy beings to make them accuse one another. Alas! according to the ancient prophecy: “the brother delivered up the brother to death.” Robert Bartlet deposed against his brother Richard and his own wife; Jane Bernard accused her own father, and Tredway his mother. It was not until after the most cruel anguish that these poor creatures were driven to such frightful extremities; but the bishop and death terrified them: a small number alone remained firm. As regards heroism, Wickliffe’s Reformation brought but a feeble aid to the Reformation of the sixteenth century; still if it did not furnish many heroes, it prepared the English people to love God’s word above all things. Of these humble people, some were condemned to do penance in different monasteries; others to carry a fagot on their shoulders thrice round the market-place, and then to stand some time exposed to the jeers of the populace; others were fastened to a post while the executioner branded them on the check with a red-hot iron. They also had their martyrs. Wickliffe’s revival had never been without them. Four of these brethren were chosen to be put to death, and among them the pious evangelical colporteur Scrivener. By burning him to ashes the clergy desired to make sure that he would no longer circulate the word of God; and by a horrible refinement of cruelty his children were compelled to set fire to the pile that was to consume their father. They stretched forth their trembling hands, held in the strong grasp of the executioners Poor children! But it is easier to burn the limbs of Christians than to quench the Spirit of Heaven. These cruel fires could not destroy among the Lincolnshire peasantry that love of the Bible, which in all ages has been England’s strength, far more than the wisdom of her senators or the bravery of her generals. HRSCV5 748.4
Having by these exploits gained indisputable claims to the tiara, Wolsey turned his efforts towards Rome. Leo X, as we have seen, was just dead (1522). The cardinal sent Pace to Rome, instructing him to “represent to the cardinals that by choosing a partisan of Charles or Francis they will incur the enmity of one or the other of these princes, and that if they elect some feeble Italian priest, the apostolical see must become the prey of the strongest. Luther’s revolt and the emperor’s ambition endanger the papacy. There is only one means of preventing the threatening dangers It is to choose me Now, go and exert yourself.” The conclave opened at Rome on the 27th December, and Wolsey was proposed; but the cardinals were not generally favorable to his election. “He is too young,” said one; “too firm,” said another. “He will fix the seat of the papacy in England and not in Rome,” urged many. He did not receive twenty votes. “The cardinals,” wrote the English ambassador, “snarled and quarrelled with each other; and their bad faith and hatred increased every day.” On the sixth day, only one dish was sent them; and then in despair they chose Adrian, who had been tutor to the emperor, and the cry was raised: Papam habemus! HRSCV5 749.1
During all this time Wolsey was in London, consumed by ambition, and counting the days and hours. At length a despatch from Ghent, dated the 22nd January, reached him with these words: “On the 9th of January, the cardinal of Tortosa was elected!” Wolsey was almost distracted. To gain Charles, he had sacrificed the alliance of Francis I; there was no stratagem that he had not employed, and yet Charles, in spite of his engagements, had procured the election of his tutor! The emperor knew what must be the cardinal’s anger, and endeavoured to appease it: “The new pope,” he wrote, “is old and sickly; he cannot hold his office long Beg the cardinal of York for my sake to take great care of his health.” HRSCV5 749.2
Charles did more than this: he visited London in person, under pretence of his betrothal with Mary of England, and, in the treaty then drawn up, he consented to the insertion of an article by virtue of which Henry VIII and the mighty emperor bound themselves, if either should infringe the treaty, to appear before Wolsey and to submit to his decisions. The cardinal, gratified by such condescension, grew calm; and at the same time he was soothed with the most flattering hopes. “Charles’s imbecile preceptor,” they told him, “has arrived at the Vatican, attended only by his female cook; you shall soon make your entrance there surrounded by all your grandeur.” To be certain of his game, Wolsey made secret approaches to Francis I, and then waited for the death of the pope. HRSCV5 749.3